Welcome Aboard Ladies!!

Greetings to you also, buddy boy…

Hey there folks. It’s Mister Itchy bum himself online here; rocking and rubbing from side to side in this rickety old director’s chair. If only I had a spare hand to scratch with, girlfriends. It sure is delightful to find a post from two lovely ladies from the wild wild west. Who is that blonde bombshell pictured with you, Ms Obedie? I would sure love to be pressed up close to her bosoms like that watering can, right now. Maybe you can pass on my number? You and I are the luckiest fellas in cyberspace wouldn’t you agree, Larry, I mean Lars…sorry old pal, I’m getting you mixed up with the deranged serial killer in my novel; he’s been stuck in my head for days; I almost feel like his dopelganger.
By the way, you sure are one wise, witty woman, Ms Obedie; can I compliment you on your fine camera work; you even made me look photogenic in this remarkable expose of country life in the inner city. I’m so proud; you managed to capture my burgeoning pot belly. It’s the fattest I’ve been in years; you aint the only one piling on the puppy fat, Lars Anderstrum. I do wish you included my brand new punk shoes, however; they’re the drawcard of this outfit, my dear.
You sure missed one mighty fine picnic by the charming ol’ Yarra, Lars. Ms Obedie rocked up with a buffed up stud and her delightful daughter, Suschi. She had that babe in one arm and a bottle of rose tucked under the other! She presented me with a delicious cupcake with a candle in the centre; I presumed it was laced with hashish and fed it to the goats. You never know with them environmental types; they’re always fooling around with hallucinogenic plants or boiling up magic mushrooms.
A fabulous time was had by all, blowing our party horns and sucking lollipops in the sunshine. It was the best birthday I ever had (that I can remember) and it was far superior than the last two I spent in a hospital bed. Those nurses jabbed me with syringes left, right and centre and I didn’t even get to choose the darn drug! Unfortunately no one brought plates to the shindig so we had to dish up the potato salad on the cardboard invites supplied by one inventive party goer. Of course there were other gourmet dishes like pesto pasta salad and roasted corn cobs and we washed those kernels down with strawberry champagne and a bottle of Bailey’s Irish cream. One party goer was inclined to show us how skilled she was at fitting a stack of those horns in her mouth all at once! The whole crowd was impressed, particularly myself, being a fellatio fanatic from way back. Ms Obedie was kind enough to share her classy bottle of Rose and drank us under the table, of course. That foxy mama sure can polish off the flutes; although she’s settled down since her wild days’ of popping pills and rampant bisexuality in the nightclubs of Fitzroy!
Mind you, it was the antics of the children that were the highlight of the day; little Uschi had us in stitches diving into the chocolate brownies, crying ‘cuddles, mummy, cuddles’ and ‘shokolade, mummy, shokolade.’ Meanwhile, four year old Kahli was tearing about wearing fairy wings, waving her magic wand and making us slur our words and get all dizzy in the head. You sure know you’re getting old when your friends turn up with children, buddy. I had birthday cake and booze coming out my ears by the end of the day and we were all high as kites on sugar, tootin’ them horns at passers by and blowing bubbles of detergent at the donkeys and cows. Ms Obedie blew the biggest bubble I ever saw and it popped me right in the face; I was seeing stars and bubbles, fairies and queens all at once, buddy!
Excuse me for a moment while I check out the fine black American specimen who just walked into this café in Brunswick. I’m choking on my decaf latte and I’m too nervous to even look up from this notepad. Especially since I got a nasty ol’ golden staph infection right here on my face; it’s kind o’ like a giant weeping scab on my chin and I was just at the clinic getting the damn thing swabbed. Yo, Ms Obedie; why don’t I hire you to create a photographic AIDS journal before you pick up those garden tools?
My, I don’t think I’ve seen such a fine specimen of a man since I smoked that fella’s crackpipe in San Francisco, honey. Thank the lord I’m drinking decaf; I’m shakin’ all over as it is!
Anyhow, Lars, we wrapped up the day with a game of ‘Fantales trivia’ back at my public housing pad. The little ones converted my bed into a trampoline while Ms Obedie told us about all the boys you made out with on that shabby old mattress. She also talked about her love of Phil Collins, that fine musician from the USA. Uschi tried to strangle my teddy bear, Oscar, to death and I praise the lord those children never found my stash of AIDS drugs and anti depressants!
There’s not much to tell after that, buddy. I spent the next week eating left over cake and chocolate, taking antibiotics for my staph infection and herbal sedatives for insomnia. For some reason I was full of angst after turning 34 and I suspect it was something to do with that Scorpio full moon smouldering in the cosmos. So I trust you enjoyed this relatively smut free diatribe and I hope we get to see a photograph of you real soon, my little cream puff!

Love to y’all
JJ