My Playlist for Today

I've been enjoying my long weekend. I actually got a short story published on Kindle, if anybody wants to check it out. It's a cheeky little piece of noir that will appeal to your inner Carrie, and make you chuckle with unholy glee (and who doesn't want to chuckle with unholy glee sometimes?) Here's a link: click here

I've been devising a bit of a playlist to reflect my mood these past few days. Here we are:

1. Over the Border by Skyhooks. This was released in 1979 as a dig at that draconian old fuck Sir Joh Bjelke-Peterson and his despotic views on protesters. I think it could get a re-release now for Peter Dutton and Michaelia Cash. Don't get me wrong, I too get irritated when protesters obstruct people going about their lawful business, or when they commit acts of vandalism or trespass. However, for Dutts and La Cash to propose suspension of any welfare payments is really foul, and possibly a violation of the relevant Criminal Code as it relates to a public officer. People in receipt of social security who are charged with crimes don't automatically have payments suspended, so why would people arrested in relation to alleged offences committed in relation to protesting get payments suspended? By the way, Senator Cash, if a person has carried out their obligations with job seeking, then it's nobody's business if they protest. They're allowed to. Dutton's crap about naming and shaming the protesters on social media makes about as much sense as trying to slam a revolving door, because the protesters would most likely have shared images to their own media already. What about people who are protesting, and are already employed? Are you going to have a word with their employers about suspension of payments, too? Go away, you pair of clowns; you've both completely blown every inner spring and cog you have.

2. Tired of Waiting for You by the Kinks. I had to take my fifteen-year-old son clothes shopping yesterday. Never mind shooting up like a weed; he's shot up like a triffid, and none of his shorts fit him. We attended our local Big W yesterday, and chose (after much prevarication and fart-arsing) three pairs of shorts for him to try. He went into the cubicle, and I leaned against the counter and sighed, knowing what I was in for. Time passed slowly. 'Have you got them on yet?' I called. 'Geez, Mum; you need to calm down' was the response from the cubicle. More time went by. I called to him that I could have learned a new language in the time it was taking for him to change. As the minutes went by, I called to him that not only could I have learned a new language, I could be speaking it colloquially by now. Finally, the curtain was drawn back, and my son stepped from the cubicle as though stepping onto a stage - with the shorts on over the pair he was already wearing. I had to suppress an almost insurmountable urge to wail to the sky, and told him to try the damned things on properly and be quick about it (in the full knowledge my kid just doesn't do 'quick').

3. White Room by Cream, because RIP Ginger Baker.

4. Joker and the Thief by Wolfmother. I'm thinking about going to see the movie Joker this afternoon.

5. Still the One by Orleans, because last week Mr Bingells and I celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary. We showed our kids our wedding album. It was a fun trip down memory lane, and a sad one, too, when we saw photographs of people no longer with us: my father, my husband's father, my husband's grandparents, our best man, two of my uncles, one of my aunts, one of my husband's uncles, my former boss... Sigh. It was a bittersweet experience.

Ciao for now.