leave me alonely

It is weird that I so desperately want to be left alone while at the same time wanting to hang out with my mates. Left alone wins out each time, and so it was once again today.

The dogs were bastards, so no worse than average. I thought I'd heard then a little after six but now think it was a possum on or in the roof that woke me. I let the boys in - the back door had been open all night but they'd been confined to the sunroom - and went back to bed. Rowlf jumped up onto the bed, leaving muddy footprints on the sheet before he scurried off as I yelled at him. But the damage was done, I was awake. A swim was well overdue, so I packed some supplies in a backpack, leaded up and we headed for Clive Park.

The boys must have sensed I was tired and emotional because they decided to tweak my nips the whole way; either that or they knew they were heading for a swim and could not contain themselves. OK, so they weren't that bad (and lets face it, they are never bad, it is the owner you need to blame...) and we got to the park and I let them off their leads they belted into the water. There were a couple of kayakers with their boats on the shore when we arrived...and...how cool is this...they unpacked a small stove, a cooler bag of food and started preparing egg and bacon. I mean really, how cool is that? Rowlf, usually the food obsessed monster was more water obsessed and refused to let me stop hurling his floating kong toy (great present Bro) into the Harbour over and again. While my atention was on Rowlf Rumpole took the opportunity to go on a bacon hunt. The little bastard; yes everyone, I monster my dogs as they pull on their leads and I don' ever feed them. I'm a very bad man.

Like I say, they were bastards today. But still very cool, and I lvoe spending time with da boyz.

Knackered - well, me at least - I fed the boys, took a shower and headed out to the city, via a Milsons Point breakfast and a walk over the Bridge, to try and find birthday presents for Sal. Not as easy as it sounds.

Sal, if I may address you directly as you Lord (lady?) it up in Brisbane, I wanted to get you an iPhone. But they ain't out yet. So tough. I took a look at the new Macbook Air and didn't buy one. I doubt they would have accepted my credit card, covered as it would have been in man-goo. Damnit, if ever a computer could be sexy it's the Macbook Air.

Any-hoo, I got a couple of things, one of which isn;t a book on architecture that I looked at several of, took a few shitty pictures and meandered back home to slob out for the remainder of the day. And that's Sunday done.

In other news...Aus is bidding for the Soccer - sorry about that; soccer should not be needed, I should have just said THE - World Cup 2018, and both Cunard ships Queen Elizabeth II and Queen Victoria are in town, or rather moored next to it. Getting the bus home I missed a woman falling from the Bridge (was she pushed?), next door's yappy-as-fuck pomeranian is starting to get right on my tits (I will not tolerate my boys barking if I think it'll piss off the neighbours) and the Newcastle Jets beat the Central Coast Mariners (do we really need the nicknames?) in the A-League final. The Mariners have, apparently, a yellow and blue army. Belting goal to win it though. I burnt my forearms yesterday; four and half hours on the bike can do that: I'd suncreened in parts...just not those parts.

So how about the self-imposed isolation? Well I am happy with my own company, and as I am easy to anger at the moment that is probably a good thing. I really don't know how to get a handle on it. I'm a smart kid, I know when I'm being a twat...but I keep going when I know I should hold off. I guess there must be some sub-consciously-perceived-Darwinian pay off. Fucked if I know what it is though. Maybe I need to be unhappy every now and then? I dunno; and half a bottle of wine and a rumbo (second coming up) are hardly going to bring clarity. I thought I was tee-total? Weird...

So that's ya lot.

Hold on...one more thing...as I got up to refill my glass I thought "hmm, quiet; not as doggy as I'd expect." So I looked out over the back garden and there they are, sitting happily in each other's company. Oh yeah, Rowlf has what appears to be a log in his jaws. One of those bigguns, like the ones you see floating down Canadian rivers. Maybe he's dug up a railway sleeper? Doesn't look a lot like it came from any of the trees around the garden. Odd. Sigh.