Fear #1

Monday, 29th November 2021

You’re living in the past Marge: this post is finished with and the new months entry has begun..

It was the vaccine speaking..

Sunday, 28th November 2021

I have made-up with Amanda.

Partly because I’m getting bored being oppositional and contrary and partly because it absorbs more energy to be snarky than not like maybe partly because it’s childish – no actually, I don’t mind being childish so scratch it last one.

Oh and check out this perfect web I saw all rained-up on the way out this morning..

And when I say I’ve made up with her, that is to say I’ve told her I am going to stop being bitchy – those exact words – which I will because I like her generally; that’s not to say I wont start getting the shits again if she doesn’t stop being snarky too – obviously if she still wants to moo at me randomly when I’m being perfectly nice to her, I will start to become fucked-off again.

From my end though, I’m bored with leering at her.

I still want more money and will still be sniffing around for a job that pays me the minimum $32/hr I’m worth – just as a cleaner who can keep up with the work – and I’m not even differentiating myself from the other room attendants: everyone doing that job should be on a starting rate of $32/hr and Amanda should be doing everything in her power to get us the best rate and conditions possible – including arguing with managers and owners if that’s what it comes to – that’s a supervisor – and that’s what any good team leader would do, if they wanted a strong team of workers loyal to them.

Not that anyone wants to just hang around their workplace after they’ve finished, but I’ve never in my life seen a group of people who want OUT of the place they work so bad, they practically burn holes in the carpet running away the moment they’ve finished their work.

Anyway, there’s no point being an arsehole in the meantime so I will stop bitching about Amanda and her supervision and maybe just write about improvements that should be made here and in mm, less bitchy language.

Does make me a little sad in a way though: my stating that Amanda and Housekeeping can be better, her response to that is a kind’ve shocked outrage – that anyone would even suggest she could possibly be improved in any way – when so far as she’s concerned, she’s killing it and that’s the start and end of any discussion there.

The sad comes from knowing that she doesn’t know how much better she could be doing it because she’s so vacuum-sealed inside her own opinion of how awesome she’s doing and she is doing awesomely sure, by 1800s standards, but could have Housekeeping running much better if she’d listen – instead she instantly jumps to offended – even when the advice isn’t meant to offend.

Maybe, maaaaybe the way I made my suggestions – by yarping and bitching and complaining to anyone who’ll listen – isn’t the best way, but I am obviously invested since i work there too and though I would like to see Amanda be a supervisor everyone loves instead of just her boyfriend and two or three other cleaners of the nine we have, I also want my workplace to be better and have been tracking the place long enough now to know exactly the kinds of changes that’ll make that happen.

I have to recoil my vaporizers tonight: they’re getting too gunked-up for the flavour to be, tasty, now and I have another monthly audible members credit, but no idea what to buy with it – there’s SO MANY books, I don’t even know what I feel like listening to.

Exactly the same way I’ll get “stuck” in the biscuit aisle – completely fucking incapable of deciding which of the 200 kinds of shit to buy; Audible has so many categories and genres and so many books within all those, it almost gives me a headache trying to decide ๐Ÿคฌ

There’s also plenty of “included” members books and podcasts, but honestly audibles’ podcasts are fucking trash and the free books are well, much more hit-and-miss than the books you purchase.

Shit, I also have to remember to renew my domain name this coming week: soon as a domain expires, arsehole companies buy them up then attempt to resell them for like $8000 which is a fucking lowly way to try and make money – the actual domain name only costs $AUD15/YEAR right, but iunno must be bots that sniff-out expired domains then buy them for that $AUD15 and once those fuckheads have them, there’s nothing you can do to help your domain back – other than pay whatever ransom they want.

Course it’s not at all illegal: anyone can buy a domain name when it’s free, but yeah hate those shifty motherfuckers – I had psychaesthetic.com for YEARS until I let it expire, then like within days I got paid and went to renew it – found some cock-slime had bought and was selling it for thousands of dollars.

Turned out fine THAT time, because I’ve got a registered business name and ABN and .com.au is obviously a better domain suffix to have, but yeah long as I remember – I just got an email telling me I’ve got 60 days, so I don’t want to forget about it this time.

Saturday, 27th November 2021

You know, I’m unaware even how long I’ve been putting up with white deodorant marks in the armpits of my black merino tops but I have fucking finally, finally found an aluminium-free anti-perspirant that actually works!

It’s a thing!

I’ve tried so many times with various brands of hippie bullshit – simply to stop the fuckin marks in my shirts from regular deodorants – only to find my armpits stink by the end of the day.

Now, I have a real anti-perspirant that yeah, my armpits smell just perfectly fresh right now, after a full day of sweating – from both the work and caffeine.

NO more white marks to soak outta my wool, and no stupid wanker hippie anti-perspirant failures that do nothing yet cost three times more than any well-known brands.

Equally awesome: the perfect plate of food for a day as cold and wet as this – Braised Steak & Onion on not just any buttered toast, but brioche because all other bread is peasant shit.

You could argue the tinned shit I’m putting on that brioche is lowly peasant shit, perhaps, but like Baked Beans it’s the kind of classic food that is above such judgements, so they do not apply.

I haven’t had Braised Steak & Onions for so long either – literally years – but I remember it with the same sentimental revelry as other classic easy meals.

Fuck yeah: there’s really no other tinned soup or casserole brand or whatever, that actually tastes great straight outta the tin and heated – all those shitty ‘Chunky Heinz’ things always taste weird; the veges are always far too overcooked, the meat is just stupid little flecks that’re somehow dry in spite of being soaked in gravy for who knows how long before you heat and eat the shit..

Braised Steak & Onions is a only one that tastes like what it’s meant to: beef casserole.

I also see supermarkets are abundantly stocked in one litre bottles of Eggnog now and I happen to have been vaping Eggnog flavoured eliquid for quite a while so you KNOW I’ll be swapping the standard custard I’ve been taking to work for breakfast with that godly shit.

I’ve already vaped half a 200mL bottle as a matter of fact and probably should mix some more before I run out ๐Ÿ˜ฑ

The drugs though: my plan to come home, get stoned and draw each night hasn’t happened because the person meant to be supplying me hasn’t supplied me more than a sample like fucking a month ago, but whatever that’s fine – I spent two years not giving a shit about 420 and it’s turned out to not be as important as I thought it’d be.

Saves me hundreds too: hundreds that I should really be saving anyway, because the next fucking lockdowns are probably on the way if international news is anything to go on with all the vaccinations we’ve already had proving completely useless against new strains of COVID that’re already fuckin spreading overseas.

Right as we’re opening our borders to international travel, new variants are starting to gain traction and it obviously only takes one infectious arsehole to board one plane to Australia – time they land, every last arsehole in that flight wil be infectious and we end up with stay-at-home orders all over again.

Never even mind the new virus strain though: the general public themselves could well turn out to be more dangerous than COVID itself when so many more people collectively lose their shit in increasing numbers – especially after we all went ahead and got double injections of shit nobody really wanted in their bloodstream, but did it anyway because we were told that’s what would allow us to return to a halfway normal life again.

I mean, people were starting to get seriously angry with the last lockdown – mandate a THIRD and even the Normies will start throwing bricks through windows.


Friday, 26th November 2021

You know both Coles and Woolies now sell Panadol with 65mg caffeine per tablet?

I didn’t even know this was a thing until a week ago when I saw them and have been eating them like lollies: they’re much easier than having to fuck around with actual coffee, and given there’s around 60mg caffeine per cup I get more caffeine from the tablets than the drink.

In a rare moment her inner-karen didn’t get the best of her, Amanda told me I’ll give myself a heart attack when I rocked-up to work the other morning already shaking like a leaf, told her I’d had four coffee’s and four 65mg caffeine tablets and I’m feeling kinda, weird and sweaty.

Yes, that Amanda: she’s not always evil – just most the time.

Probably secretly hoping my heart would stop, but if so I didn’t detect it in her, affect.

Yes, she was the first person at the hotel I gave this diary to: I wrote an entire month about her before the lockdown and gave her the URL the day I started writing that post so she could follow-on from the start – a start where I fully intended to write about how adorable and cute she was and within a week she was pissing me off with her nagging – never telling me how well I’m doing, only how I’m too slow even when we both KNOW I’m averaging half an hour per room.

Matter of fact, I’ve ONLY given this diary to Amanda and Marina – they’re the only two I liked for the first couple weeks.

Gotta get ready: being too lazy to wash any of the 10 pairs of socks I’ve recently bought, I simply, bought more today – another 3x pack – really, they’re $7 for two pairs and almost cheap enough to be disposable so what the fuck, why bother washing them when you can just wear a new pair every day.

Judging by the car parks at both supermarkets in town too, the hotel will be fucking packed: you watch, she’ll give me *most* of the vacant, full rooms to clean so she can give the retard-easy occupied rooms to her bummies and then turn around and tell me she doesn’t know WHY it’s taking me so long to get eight check-ins and another six dirty rooms done – like everyone else isn’t only doing half the fucking work I am.

Pay Level 3 Amanda! Don’t gimme bullshit about it – I’m already due for Level 2 and you’ve got some bitchiness to make amends for – pay me what I’m fucking worth if you want me to feel any loyalty to you and the hotel.

It isn’t like I haven’t asked other people – both outside the hotel and in – what they think of a minimum wage position where I’m paid less than anyone else when I not only do more work, but add more to the hotel in terms of warmth and persona than most the other dead-cells shuffling around the place and I consistently get a similar response “Fuck em! Fuck that shit! Get another job there’s heaps coming up now lockdowns are over anyway.”

Only Michele is of the mind I should stay and accept being treated like a brainless arsehole and she’s probably just sick of loaning me money all through lockdown, so she’d probably be telling me to swim in raw human sewage for $25/hr if it meant I had an income again.

Amanda, right here..

So here Babe, I will give you the simple no-bullshit way to resolve this little bump in the road and make everyone happy and by everyone, I mean you and me – because fuck everyone else.

  1. Increase my pay to level-3 – I won’t tell a soul.
    I don’t even wanna hear a scrap about this: after 1 year we’re entitled to level-2 pay rates anyway and I’ve been there for almost that long – given I merge my entire personality into my work and that personality is as bright as the Sun, I am absolutely unique and so much more than your typical brain-dead room attendant so well worth the highest pay-rate you have.
  2. Don’t bitch to managers about me – especially out of spite.
    I’ve never even raised my voice at a woman I’ve lived with – let alone a coworker, so any rubbish about ‘bullying’ is just that and my dropping an f-bomb or whatever is simply my talking honestly to you: I would rather you spoke to me the same way than talk like a slimy politician. We’re cleaners in an adult environment not pre-school teachers, you know and complaining to management just to be a cow, is a betrayal of trust – I say something to you, I’m telling it to you personally – not as a ‘representative of carrington incorporated’.
  3. Just shuddup and be nice – and I ๐Ÿ’™ U 2
    If you’re paying me enough I will tolerate you taking your foul moods and shit out on me to a point, but try and share the snarky around instead of only ever targeting me or expect me to start getting shitty if you’re only being a bitch to me when I’ve done nothing wrong.
  4. Don’t try to bullshit me – really, it makes you look like a complete sleaze.
    I want to know what’s going on each day, before it happens: like, at the start of the day you tell me if there’s anything out the ordinary going to happen with rooms, co-workers leaving for whatever, events or early arrivals – spare me the gate-keeper of knowledge horseshit: Housekeeping will always run smoother when the Housekeeping staff know what’s going on generally with everything in our department. Also, don’t do things like consistently tell me I’m slower than I am, thinking that’ll somehow lead to be working faster when I’m usually working as fast as reasonable anyway and telling me I basically suck – when I know I don’t – only makes me stop giving a fuck what you’ve got to say because when everything you say has a badly hidden agenda to it, nothing you say is honest, trustworthy or worth listening to.

That’s all you’ve gotta do: I will respond to each of these, exactly how you want me to.

I’ll return to being warm towards you – because I still love you when you’re not being a bitch or thinking you can bullshit me without my seeing you’re doing it – and have no complaints about being underpaid and nobody but you and me will ever know about the pay level increase: I will tell anyone asking, that I’m on the same pay rate as they are and we’ve decided to be nice because really, we love each other – professionally, you know.

I should add a forth item to the list above: don’t try and lie to me – I’m too smart for you to get away with it and even if I don’t detect it through your body language, I’ll find out you’d fed me bullshit later – whether through people or seeing patterns that prove you’ve lied.

I hate people who lie – it’s insulting to my intelligence, makes them look like weasels and it’s just fucking bad.

That’s the end of the workplace suggestions and feedback section.

You know it’s little wonder the world is so full of fat motherfuckers these days: 500g of Natural Confectionery Company Snakes are on special for $4.50 Just THREE small potatoes cost about the same amount! Now, that Golden Gaytiime chocolate-coated popcorn is on special too: I grabbed two while I was there, then held out a packet for Samantha to come and take from me – at the checkout in Woolies a while ago – but as soon as I’ve held it out and called to her to come get them, the red-haired supermarket chick at the self-serve machines walks up to me with her hand out to grab them asking, ‘You don’t want ’em anymore?’

“No. Yeah, no: I want *her* to have them..” and used the popcorn to point at Sam – who wouldn’t come take them since I hadn’t finished paying for them yet, so woolies redhead returned to standing in the middle and no longer wanted to take them off me, which I don’t understand – they were already scanned and I was about to pay for everything so, what the fuck.

That’s the second thing I’ve given Sam this week: the aforementioned 500g packet of snakes being the first.

It’s not, I don’t even know why I’ve given things to people because I really don’t give any fucks about kissing arse, and I’m not trying to hit on them, NOR do I expect gratitude in any form: it’s not like I’m giving them actual healthy food right – I eat all of that don’t worry – I think, it’s just the sheer amount of money I spend on myself is enough that I really do not care about a bag of lollies or whatever and, well, I already know that popcorn is good so I know only an idiot wouldn’t like them.

Also, it’s not like I’m doing anything that makes me go outta my way to buy these things for other people: I’m already there, I usually have already decided to buy some for myself and simply grab a second packet, then decide who I’ll give it to.


I want Scarlett.

Thursday, 25th November 2021

I just went into Big-W for new underwear: three pairs of Bonds Boxers I get then take them to the cute checkout chick instead of the self-service machines.

I hand her a bundle with tags sticking out everywhere – obviously more than one pair just glancing at all the waist-bands, cardboard tags and the weight of them all – she only charges me for one!

What a fuckin’ sweetheart – gave me $45 worth of boxer shorts for $15.

Maybe she’s shitty about being unappreciated by her employer too, and I thought about pointing it out, then realized there’s no fucking way she could’ve mistaken what I gave her as a single pair; then realized that since she did not scan the additional pairs, she won’t get in any shit because there’s no record of them ever going in the bag – Big-W will just think someone shoplifted them when stocktaking numbers roll around.

Finally, I’ve booted-up my laptop for the first time in, in, quite a while: browsing jobs on my phone is all good and well, but my resume’s on this laptop and navigating site’s – or writing – is obviously much easier with a keyboard and mouse.

Also, no wait I’ve gotta make coffee and get settled..

We all remember Golden Gaytime Ice-creams: now they have a caramel popcorn version, and they are very fucking good and that’s from someone who hates the little husk that’s always getting stuck in your throat: an annoyance Dogmeat and I have given a name – “Popcorn Tongue: that annoying feeling there’s a bit of fingernail stuck to the back of your tongue, or throat, or the roof of your mouth, or anywhere else those little fucking husky bits get stuck.”

Dogs get Popcorn Tongue eating grass that subsequently turns the wrong way round and winds-up stuck in in their throat: evidenced by the dumb dog flicking it’s dumb tongue out over and over – trying to unstick the stucky blade of half-chewed grass which, well, you would think once would be enough to stop the animal wanting to eat grass again but dogs are – we all know – exceptionally stupid.

Popcorn Tongue.

Even with this irritation, the ice-cream inspired popcorn is awesome: caramel drenched popcorn pieces with drizzled white and milk chocolate plus those little bits of crushed biscuit – trust me, if you like other popcorn you will LOVE this shit.

I don’t even like popcorn and I love it.

Except the little husky bits..

WHAT THE FUCK useless science nerds wasting billions on boring shit like cancer while we still have to suffer fingernails in our popcorn.

Second job I applied for just then, is $35-$55/hour just to hang out and take old people to the movies!

Don’t even need a qualification OR car OR a license.. just a criminal/police clearance (which I have) and “some” experience hangin’ out with aged pensioners.

Took me a while scanning for any example of me doing anything like that in my life to date, then it hit me: Old-Brian!

Old Brian!

He’s dead now course, but I didn’t kill him and I did all kinds of shit with Brian: from taking him to buy a phone, to listening to him babble endlessly, hell I even cleaned his flat when he moved into that retirement place on the main street.

I’ll listen to anyone dribble shit for fuckin $55 an hour.


Wednesday, 24th November 2021

Boy, do we have a conundrum: an impasse that is going to resolve itself in one of two ways; given Amanda is a Leo so almost entirely composed of mindless ego, I am quite sure I’ll be working somewhere else before Christmas – she won’t utilize intelligence to improve anything but rather, dig her heels in, lose yet another great staff-member, leave herself without enough people and still somehow kid herself into believing she’s won by not submitting to the lowly cleaners’ demands, because her ego runs all of her.

IF she was smart, she would immediately slide my pay rate to level-3 without any bullshit and listen to my advise: I am not in the slightest interested in actually being supervisor and unlike her boyfriend I’m not interested in stroking her ego – I want her to pull her head out her arse and be a better supervisor – opposed to just mincing around the hotel trying to appear like one – and I want my job to be worth the effort.

Either I stay: which case Amanda needs to immediately increase my pay level to match my level of experience as a cleaner and stop being snarky to me so her and I get along,

Or I leave: start seriously applying for jobs with an hourly rate that reflects my value to another employer.

They are the only two options far as I’m concerned now, because I’ve seen enough to know the hotels’ attitude to casual workers overall: they’ll smile and say good morning to us all; once a month at staff meetings the Duty Manager and one the owners will blow smoke up our arse about how important we are while paying the absolute minimum they can legally get away with paying to the hardest working staff in the hotel and as long as those rooms are done, none of them give a solitary fuck how unhappy their workers are about being there, about physical injuries accumulated from the work.

Just shut the fuck up and get it done faster bitches and be thankful we pay you anything: we’ll lie to you, use you any way that makes our lives easier and squeeze every last drop out of you – all while giving as little as humanly possible back and anyone dumb enough to stay in spite of being nothing but cheap labour to us, well you’re obviously stupid cunts for sticking around so deserve to exploited by us – the little managers and minor bosses of one little hotel in one little town someplace.

The others might be happy grovelling like rats for any scraps management feel like throwing their way – sad for them, really: maybe it’s conditioning? Maybe they’ve just been there so long they started actually buying all that horseshit along the way?


I do know I’ve always been paid more for doing less work than this by managers and supervisors who have done a lot more work than me for the position they hold: here, it’s almost no money for endless work with bosses who do less than anyone else and think deceiving their workers will somehow make for workers who feel lucky to be working there.

What the actual fuck.

Way I understand it, the only two reasons people stay and work at this hotel long-term, is either (a) they’ve been given better pay or a better position within the hotel or (b) they’re just so fucking dumb they actually think developing arthritic joints prematurely for fuck-all money is a valid employment trajectory.

I am way too fucking smart for the latter and one-sided loyalty to anyone or anything is for idiots.

More I think it all out on the page, there’s really no conundrum here at all: find a better job with better pay as quickly as possible – that is how it’s resolved.

So as an aside: I’ve had 11 or 12 rooms every day, which – multiplied by about 6 days I’ve been rostered-on – gives a total of 66 to 72 rooms I’ve cleaned just this week.

The hotel only has 65 rooms all up, so – give or take – I have cleaned every room in the hotel with a few extras thrown-in, in just the last six days.

Show up and do the work: THAT is enough to demand better pay and spesh treatment alone in a such a full-on job, plus the personality and warmth I give to guests that shits all over the kind of artificial kindness some staff probably think is pretty convincing, even though it’s just not: everyone can detect fake warmth and nobody wants some robotic arsehole pretending to be interested in them – least of all guests who have paid good money to stay in a place that’s meant to be about hospitality.

I’m not kissing anyone’s arse for better pay and decent conditions: I’ve been paid $32/hour with more hours than I could even do, for years now just cleaning schools and I work my fucking dick off every day to make Amanda and the hotel look good – that’s all I need to be doing to looked after as an employee and if this hotel won’t do that, there’s always going to be other places that will.

And now for something nice that happened today.

Actually, it’s late and I’m too fucked to recount today’s nicenesses but I will say, I do like the guests aspect of hotel room flipping – enough to be quite alright with the idea of taking another housekeeping job in another hotel if no super awesome one catches me.

It’s yeah, most the work blows but guests – most guests at least – keep the work, workable ๐Ÿค”


Tuesday, 23rd November 2021

Such a relaxing day OMGoodness.

And now I’m home: there’s so many jobs around now! Not only shitty cleaning ones either – I mean they’re all various types of unskilled shit, but the world is re-opening right in time for christmas and new year and apparently vacant jobs are rampant.

Compared to pre-lockdown it’s an employees market.

Sunday, 21st November 2021

Dogmeat, Dogmeat, Dogmeat ๐Ÿ˜

She doesn’t have the shits with me after all ๐Ÿ˜

These Turkey nuggets were for dinner, and very filling but good on fresh hotdogs buns from Baker’s Delight with Garlic Aioli, which I had..

I need another moniker for you: Dogmeat is getting old and was never reflective of my opinion of you ๐Ÿค”

Also, we’ve got two days Amanda-free, so I won’t have her creeping up to snap and snark at me like the world’s tiniest bridge troll – til, what, Saturday WOO!!

Samantha will be filling in and though Sam’s kinda too much one of us and too nice to be trolling co-workers anytime she’s shitty about something not even related to those co-workers, she’ll settle into supervising just fine once she relaxes: it’s not like she’s really gotta do much more than walk around, help with the occasional bed and check what we’re all doing and oh, right; order soone biscuits and toilet paper every couple weeks ๐Ÿ™„

Can’t forget that.

The cleaners themselves are the ones who actually keep housekeeping functioning and I don’t understand how anyone could get an ego about supervising those cleaners: without cleaners the supervisor would be totally fucked, yet take away the supervisor and the work will still get done just fine.

It’s almost retarded, for that supervisor to be thinking themselves more important than the workers themselves – especially good ones.

Sunday, 21st November 2021

Amanda Amanda, Amanda..

What is wrong with you: the cleaners who stay are the people who like you enough to put up with your mood swings and pissiness and I, would already have gone if I didn’t like you on some kind of personal level.

So I get there this morning and after grabbing my board then sitting at Amanda’s desk to check the hotel’s booking computer for which of my rooms had already checked-out so I know which ones I can start on, I grab my shit and head up to the “Trad” hallway – short for “Traditional” though I have no idea why, but these are the rooms I usually do even though they’re some of the slowest rooms to clean because – being the cheapest rooms in the hotel – they don’t have bathrooms built-in: the bathrooms are a separate block and everyone hates these rooms because of how long they take.

I started with these rooms then just found it easier to do the same ones every day because, repetition right, so pretty soon any supervisor on tells me I’m “getting” my Trads aas if that’s some grand prize of cleaning or whatever, when I would rather get a Colonial wing every day because they’re much faster and easier.

Anyway I start walking that way and Amanda walks with me – starts talking about how she’s already done the beds and restocked 34, 35 and 38 and she wants me to just do the bathrooms -for these rooms (plus vacuum, so basically she’s just made the beds, changed the bins and restocked the coffee stuff) before starting my other checkins.

“I have to apologize to you”, I interrupt and she slows talking about the rooms a moment.

“I mean, I’ve been ORDERED to apologize to you, for telling you to go fuck yourself, like WEEKS ago.”

She quietly tells me ‘Okay..’, then kinda does this gooshy ‘aw shucks’ little slump as if I’ve just told her she’s gorgeous or some shit and I’m unsure WHAT was with THAT because I was not trying to compliment her – simply get this apology done with – and I made sure to explain the motivation behind my saying sorry as I continued.

“I figured we’d forgotten about that text the day after I sent it, until DEREK has a little word with me as I was leaving yesterday; using politically correct words like ‘bullying’ and ‘behavior’ and telling me I should just ‘man up’ and all sorts of, whatever”

Did I even actually get to the apology itself?

Pretty sure I did.

I can’t remember, but then she tells me I shouldn’t really be telling any supervisor to fuck off and I agree basically – winding-up the ‘little talk’ before returning to talking more boring shit about rooms.

“You gonna go down and tell Derek to cancel that ‘official warning now?”

‘No, Jason you shoul..’

“How many warnings do I get?”


“Oh! That’s, generous. That’ll be like, another two years worth then at this rate.”

‘What? No! Just don’t do it again: don’t tell people to go fuck themselves and you won’t get warnings.

“Mmm, yeah sure, okay..”

Making it sound so easy not to..

Fast forward to around two o’clock, I’ve done all my own rooms PLUS one of Marina’s – like the twelve I had on my list to start with weren’t enough – when I open the door and a checkout room and see this pretty little, whatever, of coconut ice or something, wrapped in holographic cellophane.

Immediately, I take it and leave it on Amanda’s desk for her, then tell her on the way down the hall there’s something edible and pretty on her desk..

Yeah I took a photo: I was going to just text it to let her know, but I saw her coming around the corner so I just told her it was there.

Maybe that’s why she’s so bi-polar: I stopped leaving fruit and snacks on her desk like, seven months ago when she started being emotionally unstable and annoying ๐Ÿค”

Maybe, if I resume dumping food on her desk she’ll be well fed enough to not be so irritating ๐Ÿค”

Totally doubt it would make any difference though: mental illness cannot be cured with food ๐Ÿ˜

And sure it was just some shit some guests left behind and their room, but they were placed in front of the TV in a way that made them obviously meant to be a gift to the cleaners – which we get occasionally – and was still a nice gesture on my part.

Would I eat it?

No fucking way: I would throw it straight in the bin like I do all food guests have handled, and Amanda should have binned it too, but it’s the thought that counts.

I’m sure it’s edible mind, probably delicious but I don’t yeah I just can’t see any guest food as edible, well the exception is unopened milk left in the fridge – that’s a refill for my drink bottle and since it’s unopened, uncontaminated plus usually only bought the night before.

Anyhoo, I get to the last room on my list – room 26 – and figure since Amanda hasn’t come to ask me to help anyone else, I can finally relax and take my time with this one – it’s 1:50 PM after all and I’ve finished the million other rooms so cool.

At ten past two Amanda knocks then enters the room and asks me what’s going on with 39? Apparently I’d scribbled it out without thinking while Cerissa was talking to me and comparing how many rooms we both had.

39, was one the new guys rooms I had apparently been given because he’s too fuckin slow, even though he had less rooms to start than than I had, and Amanda had added it to my board in pen – I hadn’t dibe 39 yet! Fuckit!

I end up going back to the Traditional wing and do 39 in under half an hour, but midway through I needed white bin liners so I go to the staff room to grab some where I see Amanda and while I’m there, ask her why I have had more rooms than anybody else has for days now.

Instantly she’s on the defensive and ramps up from that to near screeching that she did four of my rooms for me (again: she did do the bed, bin and coffee in three of my rooms first thing, but that’s not quite half the rooms since there’s a separate bathroom for every room that I still had to do, vacuum and wipe the rooms down, and I dunno where any fourth room was in that), then – and here’s the punchline in her rant at me: ‘You’ve done like, NO WORK TODAY Jason, literally nothing!’ then tells me I need to just work faster, or some shit, when I’ve actually been averaging around 30 minutes per room for days now.


You fucking kidding me woman!

The question really, is how she went from calm and nice in the morning to just full-on bitch-mode by afternoon: started out, I was happy she’d helped by doing some of the three rooms on my list, but by afternoon – even though everyone was on-time with our work and actually all finished at the same time, why she’s winding me the fuck up ๐Ÿค”

I propose mental illness as the only valid cause of such radical mood swings, though I also did tell her before the lockdown she could scream all she wants at me and I’ll still just give her daggers until I’ve calmed down, then forget about it.

This is one day, for one cleaner in ONE SECTION at the hotel and even then, very heavily abbreviated for time’s sake.

I’ve got eat and get ready before I finish.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you how to be a superior supervisor, because I have had a lot of those over the years, but there’s just not enough time left in the night to list all the changes needed for that to be a thing.

I can start though, with the subject of drama: though you might like to see as little of it as possible – thinking it gets in the way or slows-down our work – cleaning is a inherently boring, repetitive job and drama is how we have fun while we’re doing it: the more you eliminate that drama, the less fun we get to have and if you did manage to eliminate all drama between cleaning staff, all you would have left are a smattering of dead-hearted wraiths skulking around cleaning rooms like souless robots – super polite, super efficient, super depressing for guests and other workers alike – staff who are so polite and sound fake are repellent to most people.

As a disruptive personality, I manufacture drama which translates to fun by giving other people shit to talk about and as a genuine person, I can speak to any guest without sounding fake or coming across as someone only pretending to want to talk to them.

I have heaps of meta improvements to your approach to supervising racked-up and ready to go, because I an exceptionally good at reading groups of people and how they interact.

Dogmeat has the shits with me for some reason, though that’s alright: I have a different fish in my skillet to distract me for now anyway.

Saturday, 20th November 2021

Now I’m annoyed: stupid thing to do – I cannot work with someone I distrust, which means I’ve already severed what little attachment I had towards that job and started looking for another one.

One the managers had a little chat with me as I was leaving today: apparently Amanda had complained officially over my dropping the f- bomb in a text to her a few weeks ago.

Said manager is using bullshit words like “workplace bullying” and telling me to “man up and just apologize”, neither of which make much sense given I have no issue apologizing: I haven’t because any engagements between Amanda and me have been no different to how they were before I sent her that text – and Amanda does not seem in any way to be feeling “bullied”, because she’s not, because I didn’t bully her – I sent her a single text telling her to fuck herself; hardly bullying and I resent the assertion I even would.

So now – having received my first ‘official warning’ – one more inadvertently offensive thing I do could result in dismissal which means I have to find another job because this one is now insecure.

All over a complaint about something that never actually bothered her in the first place: cleaning has always been a pretty raw job and that’s certainly not the first time I’ve cussed at a supervisor – it’s pretty much a given you can speak honestly in physical labour jobs, yet here we’ve got a supervisor who complains without even being offended, instantly killing any trust between worker-supervisor and causing another cleaner to start looking elsewhere – simply because of her ego problems – in the nine months I have been there alone, half a dozen new cleaners have left – specifically telling us it’s Amanda they can’t stand about the job: one left right in the middle of a shift telling everyone Amanda thinks far too highly of herself and she’s had enough of her.

I’ve been advised by someone to just apologize then shuddup and “work hard”, though that someone isn’t a cleaner so doesn’t know that ‘hard’ is the only way there is to work in that job and when have I ever been able to shuddup about anything that’s pissing me off.

On the rare occasion I actually do shuddup about something it’s because I’m quietly plotting my next move and this isn’t one of those occasions.

There’s so many cleaning positions around and good workers are at a premium – especially in a tourist town with the holidays coming up, so whatever – it’ll be an employees market with the lockdowns ending and christmas coming.

I’ll be finding another place to work regardless – why waste my adrenal glands getting pissy until then right.

Friday, 19th November 2021

6:27 PM

And, like this could’ve possibly ever been improved, I discovered marshmallows aren’t only for hot chocolate..

They go equally well – arguably better even – on hot malted milk: not some stupid concentrated malt extract either, but the top shelf Nestlรฉ granulated shit – it’s got exactly the same texture and eat it with a spoon mildness that Milo has but yeah it’s, there’s really nothing like it and for some reason (unpopularity I assume but don’t understand) Nestlรฉ are still the only brand of malted milk in supermarkets today.

I mean anybody who loves Milo would love this shit too, yet at $10 per medium tin it’s much more expensive than Milo but for caffeine-free beverages before bed, hot milk has been pretty much habitual for me going on over a year now and yeah I’ve heard there’s meant to be Triptomine in warm milk that supposedly helps you fall asleep and yeah, that’s possibly why I began drinking it before bed, I think it was more about just being caffeine-free and testing not like tea or coffee that actually kept me drinking it every night.

So even before the half year of lockdowns I’d just got used to drinking plain warm milk, then today I went for a walk down the tea and coffee aisle in search of something else hot and where I usually would have spotted then grabbed the Chai Tea, I saw this – literally on the top shelf – in it’s familiar sky blue label and here we are.

It’s not only excellent, malt is the only addictive that makes milk taste better without radically changing the base flavour of the milk itself or overpowering it.

Then add a layer of marshmallows: 5-star rated hot drink.

Yeah, I am aware a whole daily entry about peanut butter and malted milk doesn’t make for riveting reading, but I don’t have to be profound on a schedule, or funny, or ranty: today, I feel like writing boring shit about sandwiches and milk, so I will write about sandwiches and fucking milk.

4:26 PM

Okay, once I’m up and moving around it’s fine – to clarify: it’s having to leave the warm, soft, sleepy confines of bed I really dislike – course once I’m awake with a coffee in myself I actually no longer give a shit about bed or sleeping at all.

It’s just that sudden, rude, godamn interruption to my sleep: 5:50 AM, BUH-DUH BUH BUH, BUH… BUH-DUH BUH BUH, BUH… BUH-DUH BUH BUH, BUHโ€ฆ FUCK YOU PHONE!

Anyway, for the very first time in my life today I tried that so adored American staple peanut butter and jelly sandwich, though I jam obviously because we know “jelly” is just the American name for jam, though I would be willing to bet that their jam isn’t packed with fruit like ours, but – knowing the kind of shit Americans consider edible – only a smear of the fruit and the rest just artificial flavourings to mimic fruit.

I used Beerenberg Strawberry & Rubard plus fresh Bakers delight rolls and it was very good: much the same as a ham doughnut, but with a nutty taste in there with all the fat and sugar and fruit.

Fruit & nut chocolate is a perfect match of course and the same goes for concentrated berry and peanut.

I made two this morning in fact, but didn’t have time to eat the second one so I’ll have it for dinner and no butter: the peanut butter is almost 80% fat and fills the same purpose.

Dogmeats suggestion and she did not lead me wrong and it’s probably packed with energy too: with the sugar and sucralose from the jam, plus the protein from the peanut butter and packed with carbs from the bread, it’s no doubt ideally suited as a lunch for physical workers.

And though it took me until around 2:30 PM to finish the last of my 9 rooms today, I’ve gotta say I am happy to already be fine when I get home and no longer exhausted – a state that only lasted a few days last week before I adapted and the better food started improving my overall energy levels.

Thursday, 18th November 2021

I propose, that anytime the word “narcissist” be used, we correct the verbiage to “piece of shit” or any of a dozen more truthful and accurate terms – leech, parasite, sponge, loser; grown arse fucking man-baby.

Garden variety manipulation and selfishness should never be glorified with pretty psychiatric words, you know and though a lot of people in the cess-pool of sickness we call society today would love to be considered sociopaths or narcissists, most are just try-hard dickheads who were so spoilt by their mothers they’re a waste of fucking space and will ruin you before moving on to suck some other unsuspecting woman dry.

As for the gaslighting: I will keep you grounded and sane through any bullshit you’re fed Dogmeat and I am not going anywhere as long as you’re not.

One week back at work and I already feel more alive than I have in half year of lockdowns: like a living death – imprisoned in four walls that already felt like a fucking tomb before this stupid virus turned everything around.

I mean, I’ve had a headache three days outta the last seven and this morning blew snot out my nose as black as fucking road tar, but yeah wow so glad I got vaccinated.

I still cannot believe those dumb cocksuckers thought it was a good idea to harangue everybody into being jabbed, when all they really needed to do was vaccinate those who are at serious risk of complications from covid infection: they should only have been vaccinating the 10% of the population who are already in bad health, not healthy people who would’ve fought the virus off like any other bout of the flu – instead, who knows how many complaints of heart problems will surface in the general populace and already women are complaining they’ve become sterile because of after being vaccinated and if it can do that, logically an increase in birth defects will follow on from there, not that I need to give a shit about that but there’ll be plenty of other ‘cracks’ in human wellbeing that can affect any of us – even me – and if course the consent forms at vaccination time already have everyone signing a disclaimer that neither the government OR healthcare industry are in any way liable for damages caused by any of the vaccines at any point, while press statements in the future will simply state the federal government were only acting on the “best medical advise” at the time, which means no politician will ever be held responsible for vaccination ill effects years down the road.

Politicians are all such cowardly fucking worms.

Wednesday, 17th November 2021

You’re beautiful, Dogmeat.

Now, you know the last thing I ever want is to see you reassured in any way – I mean a happy woman UGH how disgusting – but it’s true and now is the only time to be giving you affirmation of this fact because now is the only time I don’t have to worry you’re head will grow so big and fat it rolls once then plops off your shoulders completely.

Phew, glad that putrid, chick-flick moment is outta the way.

Tuesday, 16th November 2021

Thirteen rooms today.

With only four cleaners rostered today it was no great task to sus out the others boards and for some reason, I had more rooms than anyone else there.

Yes, I realize fully that details on work for the day isn’t the most exciting thing to be writing about – certainly not the kind of observational musings that make for compelling reading – but that’s what I’ve just spent the day doing, so that is predominant in my mind when I open chrome on my phone and tap Edit, so you’ll have to just either endure it or withhold from visiting for another week or so – by then I’ll have settled into working again to the point each day is Groundhog Day enough to not bother thinking about once I’ve finished.

Monday, 15th November 2021

Not a lot to write today and now I’ve eaten (beans on toast incidentally), I’ve gotta get ready for the morning before I let myself relax – by relax I mean get comfortable then probably fak asleep – but I was certainly slow today: with only five rooms taking me until 1:30PM though all those rooms had to be changed from doubles to split single beds, which meant twice the beds.

I’ve never been any good with single beds and they mostly just look dodgy the way I make them, but Amanda finally pointed out what was wrong about how I was doing them and we both agreed they’re the most difficult beds to make, because the mattresses are so much lighter than the queens and kings, soon as you lift a corner to tuck the sheets, the other corner nearest comes undone but anyway she showed me a better way and they’re fine now.

Took me from 9:30 to 12:50 to get just four checkins done though, which was fucking stressing me out but I have to say and did, that the second Pfizer dose I got the other day definitely has given me some symptoms – I even snuffed my nose and told Amanda it’s all blocked and snotty, plus there’s the out of shape thing from being so lazy throughout lockdown and going to ten hours sleep a night to five, PLUS the sudden physical work, is leaving me noticeably slower than I was pre-lockdown.

I said this several times, but really it’s unnecessary: everyone is similar; nobodies fit as panthers and we’re all having a painful restarting of work to varying degrees, but still it’s probably more annoying to me than anyone else – knowing how fit I was prior to spending half a year just sitting around every day and now having to start off again like a fat kid being told he’s gotta stop eating cake and start on that new fitness regime he’s been talking about, like right now.

Still, within a couple weeks I’ll have the income again to eat something decent before work each day along with the several coffees I usually have and my activity levels will increase along with the better quality diet until I’m whirring on all cylinders again.

Already after a few days I’m not so tired tonight and in few weeks time I’ll have enough left over when I get home to get stoned and draw until bedtime ๐Ÿ˜Š

Right now the artwork and creativity is on hold until I re-adapt to the physical demands of work again.

Just wish I could jump forward in time those few weeks and skip this shit leading back up to that *yawn* and I’ve also gotta start a $1,000 saving account, so I can start looking for a share place and finally get the fuck outta this shithole and go back to living with actual human beings again.

No updating my wardrobe this time around; no ordering vape supplies or any other shit online and no impulsive purchasing – just saving my escape money.

Don’t worry Dogmeat: we will escape our individual sticky-traps and save one another along the way: all you gotta do is let us close enough to warm each other up

And write: whether you allow me or anyone else to read them or not, download your thoughts out of your head and into the world โค

Sunday, 14th November 2021

Everything, actually it’s not that everything hurts after several days of work starting up again, it’s that everything feels drained of energy: like I could easily go lay down and fall asleep right now I reckon, except I can’t because I’ve gotta get ready for tomorrow then stuff some kind of food in me so I’m not even more drained tomorrow.

Everyone is has the pissies too: mostly because we’re outta shape from six months of just sitting around eating, but also partly because it’s dawning on everyone it’s back to doing this shit every day for minimum wage.

Still, all the cleaners who were there before the lockdown are back – except maybe one or two three younger chicks, but Tilly was the only one of them who was any use at all anyway – the rest were schoolgirls who were only there on Sunday, so they were hardly doing much to lighten the overall cleaning workload.

Shockingly though, I remembered how to do everything including beds and though this photo’s a few days old now, here’s the first bed I made on the first day back..

I need to find a way to get our pay raised to $30/hour because these tightarse, exploitative owners are arseholes for paying us minimum wage.

Especially in a town full of guest-houses who are always needing cleaners: the Carrington fucking rakes-in money every week with rooms from $250 minimum to $850+/night and they can’t bring emselves to raise our wage by $5/hour..

I should go work for Scarlett.

Saturday, 13th November 2021

Friday, 12th November 2021

My turn to have a headache.. not a migraine though – no doubt just sweating without drinking anything for half the day.

It was not nearly as hard as I was expecting, though we only had six rooms each but made them last five hours regardless ๐Ÿ˜


My right knee is not exactly loving all the sudden movement today, though the rest of me, is excellent.

Not a mention of my colourfully worded texts to Amanda last week, which didn’t really surprise me too much: some cleaning jobs might require workers to be all “yes oh sorry please” and all that meek, humble bullshit but not at the hotel – the Carrington’s one the few places I’ve cleaned where you’re not only allowed to have a personality, but kinda encouraged to express it.

To an extent.

Obviously if I’d overreacted and told a guest to go fuck emself I would be hearing all about that, but our Amanda isn’t a guest and between staff you can pretty much say what you like – especially about guests who are weirdos, like the old guy and his wife today complaining about the shower-screen/glass leaking water to the rest of the floor.

Even though I handed him like 6 fresh, folded towels plus 4 floor mats, fucker still couldn’t scrape-up even a trace of a smile and it wasn’t even one of my rooms!

I was just there and he’s saying all he wants is some towels, so I say sure then go to fix it but when I get in their room I see his fat wife sitting on a chair in the dark being all fucking creepy and she starts on at me about the shower glass leaking all over the floor.

Course I told both of them that’s Maintenance who should be taking care of that and “they’ve been here right through the six month lockdown too – you’d think they might’ve managed to actually maintain SOMETHING in all that time since they had the whole hotel to themselves.”

I continued, asserting that *I* could maintain the hotel better than the whole team of stooges they have fumbling about now, then told them both “this is my first day back after lockdown – I’m a bit slow warming back into it” and they looked and sounded almost apologetic for landing all their complaints on this honest, hard-working cleaner who’s stopped what he was doing to come add fresh towels to their towel-rack for them.

This evening’s podcast episode sounds, charming: Herb the Strangler.

*…<–See this: this is what I have always added when I haven’t finished here, but have to get other shit done first.

You know too, people can say what they like about how men shouldn’t smell too nice but there was a new guy there today with a pony-tail who smelled so bad, even the hallway that led to the rooms he was cleaning stunk of that tangy stale armpit stench: just like that, he’s earned himself the same reputation as the “stinky kid in class”, but much worse – he’s no kid and grown adults – male or female – should be able to clean themselves well enough to not smell like that.

I might do one or two sprays too many with the after shave – usually over spraying because I know it’ll dissipate and weaken throughout the day – but I would rather smell like a little too much Armani than leave the stench of stale sweat up and down every space I’m in.

Now, something for Dogmeat.

Oh right: everything above and below is for you – no need to add filler x

Thursday, 11th November 2021

So wet and misty out there today..

I always, always wish I was out in the valley in my tent on days like these: just to feel the cool, fresh air and so I can hear the rain patter on the roof right above my head all around – surround sound raindrops.

Not only am I back to my pre-lockdown job tomorrow, I’ll finally have a solid, reliable wage and income again.

It’ll be 6 days a week of physically brutal shit until my body re-adapts, but whatever – I can bitch about it until everything stops hurting.

Of course the Centrelink chick printed me half a dozen of these certification printouts to use until or instead of the app certificate, but I also got the medicare code to link it to mygov quickly, so I’ll have the app certificate in a minute.. once I’ve had coffee and chucked some merino tops in a bucket to soak for later.

Money is almost all the motivation I need to work again after half a year of having my employment paused, though the routine is kind’ve comforting if you put aside that having to get out of bed early thing.

Not that I’ve ever refused any other job and I cannot imagine how anyone can refuse a paying job and not have enough money to even support themselves let alone be any use to anybody else, simply because they think they’re too good to clean.

Like living off handouts or sponging off other people is ever better than even the shittiest job.

Talking about the long term unemployed in general here and the weak excuses they make to avoid honest self-examination: some people will do quite literally anything to justify being parasites and remaining that way: maintaining ‘friendships’ with people they know are too weak to say “No!”, purely so they can always scab a smoke, or a cone, or a drink, or anything else a person has that they want because good, generous suckers are hard to find – once they’ve got a grip on that kind of person, they will pretend anything to keep that sucker on the hook, because every sucker is a resource.

Makes me sick and a bit sad for “the sucker”: the victim of just the shittiest people (themselves easily identified by how they always take more than they ever give without giving a shit) who’s been used for anything they’re willing to give for so long, they are only comfortable when someone’s leeching off them or treating them like they’re just whatever so have no idea at all how to react to someone who genuinely wants to be warm and kind to them.

The kind of people who feed off others have no self respect or personal integrity and just go right ahead draining their victims until they have none either: it’s all just nasty.

I can sit up here on my high horse, look down and judge parasitic people, because as a person who’d rather starve than suck anybody’s arse for anything they have, I would never engage someone in the first place unless I knew for a fact I’d be at least as useful to them as they are me, or moreso.

Stepping back away from generalizations anyway you told me to just write more, so there you go – no point writing a diary that’s filled with shit I don’t care about.

You know those little sherbet lemon lollies – with the hard lemon outer-shell surrounding tangy sherbet powder?

They now make those in strawberry and they are, very good – less acidic than the lemon ones with more, fruitiness.

I definitely care about them, though why not mango too? Or pineapple? Took them 60 years to finally get around to making strawberry ones ffs!

Wednesday, 10th November 2021

3:00 PM

Know what I’d like to do?

I would like to find someone creative, to start some kind of project that exists to make money from that creativity.

That’s a very vague description, but also alluringly open: given all the different forms of creative expression and the endless formats plus mediums it opens the floodgates to every combination of “creative”, but that leaves more room to toss the idea around.

The only two criteria are it [1] involves the creation of something that didn’t exist beforehand and [2] that something can be sold with as little messing around as possible.

Naturally, the first kind of creative product that comes to my mind when framed by such an undefined criteria, is some kind of media.

But that’s far from the only answer and combinations of formats are allowable so that’s just one spontaneous idea and though cutting or limiting the range of allowable mediums would make direction easier, that would also mean more specific talents or abilities would be needed: if it’s music videos for example, then someone visually gifted and someone musically gifted would be required.

I don’t want to limit it like that since there’s literally too many flavours of creative talent, what is someone’s a genius with macaroni and glue but cannot pick colours that look good together at all?

Or someone’s useless with an instrument but can turn a cats sneeze into an epic techno track?

More than just one other person then: multiple creative people would be required.


11:00 AM

I am fully vaccinated.

Feel like an idiot for giving-in and accepting the first shot at all really, but getting the second doesn’t make me feel twice as stupid so that’s some consolation, I s’pose.

After admitting I had no reaction whatsoever to the first shot, doctor and nurse literally laughed out loud when I told them I was worried nanobots are now burrowing into my brain.

Kinda hoping for more reassurance, but that’s fine, told them we’ll “see how funny it is when we’ve all got brain tumors in a few years.”

They laughed even harder at that!


Though I’m also not noticing any effects or reaction to this second dose, yet anyway – I figure it’s more likely since the second dose would have to contain a lot more antibodies than the first – logically.

I text Amanda a photo of the doctors printout showing I’ve had my second shot and she replies “Thank you that’s good, you can start 9:30 tomorrow if you feel okay”

I had planned to have until Monday off, just to be a bitch, so text back “Iunno Babe, I’m a little bit sweaty you know: MAYBE it’s all the walking around town in 600 grams of merino tops, or MAYBE it’s the vaccine – I dunno..”

She rosters me on Friday.

She wins again ๐Ÿ˜ 

Amanda always wins.

Good thing about being inoculated – about the only fuckin thing mind – is I no longer need to care about wearing a mask, and won’t.

Well, I may still have to wear one some places but I’ll push not to wherever I can get away with it: already, bus drivers have stopped demanding people mask-up before getting on and I am quite certain I’ll be able to not wear ’em at work.

Especially at work: cleaning being essentially a cardio/aerobic workout lasting however long the work does, wearing a mask is completely incompatible with what we’re doing – anything that restricts breathing while you’re doing that kind of work is – I will argue – dangerous, as well as insanely uncomfortable.

Wonder how much lawnmowers and garden arseholes get an hour: that’d be a complete change of role and maybe a job upgrade if the pay’s better and arguably a better place to look for another job, than another cleaning position.

I can even carve hedges into animals and other shapes, like that would be a commonly requested thing๐Ÿค”

Tuesday, 9th November 2021

2:39 PM

Am I batshit crazy?

Is it possible to be that insane and just never realize you are?

I dunno.. I doubt it.

I think, that if a person’s cheese has really slid off its cracker, they would surely have felt it happen: their reality doesn’t align with what it’s always been – you don’t even need another person to yardstick your own sanity and I certainly don’t feel insane.

Second shot tomorrow morning ๐Ÿ˜ 

Then I’m fully vaccinated for all the shitty jobs nobody ever really wants anyway: completely unknown long term effects in a roll of the dice with my health for a fucking hotel that doesn’t give a single shit about its employees – long as they never have to pay a cent more than the legislated minimum wage and we’re dumb enough to keep showing up to destroy our joints for such a pitiful amount of money, the hotel owners are happy.


Where’s Dogmeat!

Claiming to appreciate me, she’ll be surprised do discover just how much she really does once she’s scratched the surface and found not only a personality, but a living universe inside a unique, one of a kind original, unlike anyone she will ever meet or ever has.


And while I might’ve kinda scoffed at your telling me my intelligence intimidated you in the beginning (I really thought I was doing a convincing job dumbing myself down to blend-in at the time too), you can and definitely should take my word that there’s a lot more bubbling-away underneath here than you are currently able to see.

You will though, when you’re ready to.

Like, you’re happily splashing around ankle-deep on the shoreline, oblivious to the ocean you’re actually standing in.

I know, great visual that.

Meantime, you’ve got somebody who’ll never repeat a word you say, never betray you and never leave you feeling ignored.

And draw things for you.

And be a demanding, attention-seeking fuckhead, but that’s just kinda the price of admission and the return to you will always usually work to your benefit, so stop rolling your eyes – you’ve added an entire new human-being to your life ๐Ÿ™„

Sleep well, Dingus.

11:20 AM

How come, is the question today.

Like usual since I’m out I will address the question in bits and, waaait..

Some old woman on the train has just answered hubbie on speakerphone: just after she’s told him she can’t talk right now because she’s on a carriage full of people, he says “OH OKAY, BUT BEFORE YOU GO, LISTEN,”.

We then hear all about the women’s fungal infection, in all her husbands tinny, crackling glory, and it turns out, he’s been doing a bit of googling and discovered it’s not a fungus, but a bacteria “YOU’VE GOT A BACTERIAL INFECTION LUV – THAT’S WHY THE CREAMS HAVEN’T BEEN WORKING.”

Poor woman..

Crawling with bacteria.



Embarrassing hubbie.

Monday, 8th November 2021

Podcasts.. I cannot believe I thought they were just some stupid Apple music streaming service or whatever, for so long.

Now, I never watch TV, Iview, Netflix; no screens at all, though I don’t know why now I think of it – I mean there’s plenty of good shows I’m missing out on and I probably should be, at least, watching the good ones.

The difference though: watching something on a screen demands your visual and audio senses, where podcasts are audio only – you aren’t chained to the screen when you’re listening to an audio show, which gives you the freedom to do anything you want because your ears are the only sense podcasts demand of you.

I will paste a few good shows here, for anyone who has underestimated the appeal of audio stories about every kind of subject and from much more interesting news to creepyarse true crime to comedy – there’s, everything, plus so SO many podcast shows there’s always something new in your feed, means you never need to waste time listening to repeats or old shit.

But really for you Dogmeat.

If any the links below request to open or install Google Podcasts, just go ahead: it’s free like everything else google and iunno, that’s just what I’ve always used since it’s light, fast, simple app that never pops-up annoying bullshit about renewing your subscription, because it’s free obviously and all these players need to do is gather all available podcasts.

Who could ever be better at finding anything online than google.

This American Life

Stories about obscure things that would never have occurred to you yet by the end of the story you’re actually interested in the thing.

The Daily

As above but from the New York Times, with more of a news based thing but the journalists are just excellent at finding and telling stories.


Excellent moody creepy show, though honestly the choice and storytelling of the cases in the past year have been, much less good, but episodes from a year ago or longer are all excellent.


Excellent reporters telling general interest stories, science and society themed generally.

99% Invisible

Show that’s all about design and innovation – each episode will point out something we use every day but never think about, and how necessity led to the invention of these everyday items.

Stuff You Should Know

Science based, learning all about one random thing each episode, and the hosts are very relaxed and, nice.

Last Podcast On The Left

Three noisy americans take the piss out of serial killers and other true crime related shit, but they’ve moved to Spotify exclusive so has to be listened to with the app.


With shorter 20min episodes, Lore is about myth and folklore and mystical ookyspooky stories about darker historical moments.

Sunday, 7th November 2021

I gotta include this micro cow, because it’s pretty damn cute..

I want to know, how relativity works.

The multiple hours of science podcasts I’ve listened to explained nothing that doesn’t sound like bullshit

I agree with Rocky the space alien arachnid, that time’s the same everywhere because time as we know it, it a measurement of moments: a moment that occurs here is occurring exactly the same at every other point in the universe.

These fucking nerd scientist dickheads waffle on about how a laser clock going faster than light will shoot out beams that bounce diagonally backwards which makes sense except that’s a laser beam they’re measuring – not a fucking moment in time!

Fucking NERDS and their bullshit.

They think simply using time to measure how long that laser beam takes to bounce back to a receiver changes time somehow and I an nurser fucking not seeing what kinda drugs einstein had to’ve been on to draw a connection like that.

Time is not relative!

The only way to make it relative is to create a completely new definition of time that’s fuckall to do with how we use and think of time – to fit a theory that even from a quick glance makes absolutely no fucking sense at all.

Space can be compressed by gravity, sure that makes sense – squeeze shit together and particles get denser.

Time is not matter though: time is just moments and – unless everything outside our literal field of view is in slow motion or sped – see, there’s no way to even make it make sense.

Time dilation is just make believe nerd rubbish.

A moment is the same universal moment everywhere and maths theories that propose all these things about theatrical laser clocks travelling faster than light and how those instruments that measure time are showing slower time at one point – but that just,.. I still don’t see how one clock operating slower is any proof that the moment itself has changed at all.

Saturday, 6th November 2021

Hope Amanda doesn’t take that whole “Fuck you and fuck the hotel” thing seriously: I don’t wanna deal with a snarky midget giving me the ice-queen bullshit.

And this woman.. so hard to resist not spewing every angle my brain is showing me right here where everything else I think is downloaded: like facets in a gem that’s finally begun slowly turning.

But I cannot, so suck it, I guess?

Here’s the current drawing instead: a portrait I planned to just scribble it then start something else, but I’ve been, what’s she call it allowing the drawing to “evolve”, which is as good a word as any to describe it, because the shading’s nice smooth, pastel colours which is why I’m still, doing it – even gradients need to be built-up over multiple layers if you want them really smooth.

I definitely want it very smooth.

Title of this can be “Go away! Just make more milk!”, because that’s pretty well my relationship to cows..

Glad I’m not a cow.

Though you know, having a brain the size of a walnut would probably make for a very relaxing life, since you’d be literally too dumb to know how dumb you are.

Did you know, there are people whose actual job is to extract the methane from Cow burps – they have a machine they can the ‘Burp Analyzer” -specially for that purpose, because – in the ultimate what the fuck, cows are doing more harm to the Earth’s atmosphere than anything else we do!


Friday, 5th November 2021

That moment you realize the crazy woman in tears you’re wanting to fix is actually more emotionally stable than you are.

Priceless ๐Ÿ˜

I mean it isn’t like I’m unbalanced enough to be sitting here cleaning the barrel on the rifle I’ll be using to drop people from the roof of any tall local structures, but, y’know – not planning a massacre doesn’t prove sanity either.

Thursday, 4th November 2021

You know, if you’re looking for a grand conspiracy of epic proportions to dig deep into, find out and explain to me just why Cheetos Cheese Balls are impossible to stop eating.

Wednesday, 3rd November 2021

I have to find another job.

I tell Amanda I haven’t had any COVID payments for the past 5 months of lockdown and had to loan thousands just to live on, so “get me on the roster as soon as possible.”

Amanda tells me, the ‘official hotel policy’ is staff need to have had our first shot plus appointment made for the second one and we can start on the 4th Nov.

I get my first shot specifically so I’m ready for the hotel to reopen on that date.

Today, I find out not only that other cleaners have been going in to clean up after maintenance for weeks now, but that I cannot start at all until I’ve had my second shot and have the certificate.

No loyalty at all from these arseholes: all of which have been subsidized for not working right throughout the last half a year: even the millionaires who own the hotel have been subsidized for keeping the fucking thing closed and now this bullshit about needing full vaccination before starting.

Fuck every one of them and their shitty scheming, and for a minimum wage job that’ll leave everyone with fucked spines and ruined joints in a few years time while the owners holiday on their yachts and fuck you Amanda for not advocating on my behalf because you’re too busy sucking management arse.

I could’ve had another job weeks ago if I’d not waited for the hotel to reopen ON AMANDA’S WORD, so fuck ’em for that too and at a time when international tourism is about to open back up, millions of tourists will swarm the mountains and businesses everywhere will be desperate for new staff.

Eat a bag of dicks and fuckin’ choke.

Anyway, a new drawing for this horrible, repulsive bitch: a creature who can turn me to mush and back again – at will.

That’s You, yes ๐Ÿ˜Š

You know I woke this morning shocked to find my face smooth and with clean clothes already on: I had absolutely no memory at all of showering, shaving or washing and drying my clothes – no recollection of any of that happening ๐Ÿค”

Tuesday, 2nd November 2021

3:13 PM

I think.

I think I might finally have someone to draw for

Somebody who deserves to have pretty things drawn, maybe carved, for them.

This is hers now it’s finished…

Cow ๐Ÿ™‚

9:00 AM

Last night’s dream, holy fucking shit wow!

I’ve already written a basic summary so I might just copy/paste it here, though that’s lazy isn’t it.

The dream starts out with me in some dingy, poorly lit deli/corner store sneakily sliding a massive block of high quality branded butter in my pack, which fit just perfectly but left no room for anything else and weighed a lot.

I don’t even like butter THAT much I mean I prefer it to fucking awful “spreads”, but this slab of butter was massive – size of a shoebox and a very good brand, so I wanted it.

I remember thinking – one those split-second visual flashes, “I won’t have room for any other shopping if I steal this” and then ZAP, second later I’m in some house I’ve never been but feel at home in and the plot progression starts with the panic: I HAVE to get back to that fucking store before it closes; someone will find my backpack, look inside and see that whoever left the pack was planning to steal it.

Walking through this first house I see it’s basically empty – no furniture at all – and the lighting in every room was medium overcast, faded daylight seeping in through darkwood windows with framing that gave me the impression I was in some kind of Japanese building and just as I’m about to walk out, that peace of shit ex walks in with three or four kids like she’s just got back from whatever “karen” soccer-mum bullshit and isn’t surprised to see me there at all.

She stops me as I’m leaving to kiss my arse with a hug and some convoluted apology – tells me she was raped years ago, under the house, by some fuckwitt whose name I can’t remember and tells me THAT is why she was such a fucking bitch which would break my heart if the woman telling me was an actual human being, but she isn’t so it didn’t, step back out of the creature’s claws and left.

SNAP: I’m heading back into town for my butter – pretty sure it’s still sitting in my pack in the floor by the massive fridge I got it out of and as I’m walking along this completely non descriptive ordinary neighborhood street, I notice what appears to be a sinkhole where a house should probably be.

Seeing this down the street a bit, I start walking that way but as I’m walking under some trees lining the street, a small dog drops down from them lower branches and leaves in my head and shoulders – freaking out barking -and snapping -and snarling as it tries to attack me and somehow I manage to stop it’s biting at my fucking face, by holding it out at arms length! Though it’s still going apeshit at me – snap snap SNAP!

Exactly how a Dropbear attacks!

Right about there I got a look at this thing and realize it’s a monkey – I’m positive it was a dog a minute ago, but accept the instant species change as just what happens and as I’m trying to hold it to prevent bites, I suddenly somehow just KNOW, this monkey just wants a hug, so I stop fighting it and let it wrap around my neck. .

The dog-monkey nuzzles in and pretty much stays that way from this point on..

I continue approaching this house-sized hole in the ground on the corner of this suburban street and as I walk closer to the edge, I see down inside this hole I see nice looking outdoor furniture and palm trees and a ‘u’-shaped patio – paved all the way ’round with large, glazed terracotta tiles and beyond that, floor to ceiling glass allowing blinds drawn to reveal a very classy bedroom or two and a hallway.

Positioned dead-center of this outdoor *..

Monday, 1st November 2021



Some people get into meditation, I turn to introspection for answers and I am going to figure this shit out.

Sunday, Halloween 2021

It’s Halloween, why not, though I didn’t finish the pumpkin because cartoon vegetables are fucking dumb and don’t make me hard when I draw them right, so, pointless.

So I’m sitting here, just looking at last night’s eye – scanning for adjustments that need to be made – when I think, “What, is the actual point of eyebrows?”

I like eyebrows of course, they soften eyes and facilitate facial expression etcetera, but then I realized why they still exist.

Among other things, I need to find a photo online of an eye with eyeliner because I didn’t use a pic of anyone’s eye: the only reason I know eyeliner is basically just drawn on the edge of the eyelid is from looking at Amanda’s eyes at work while I’m talking to her but even then, it’s been months since I got to examine her eye make-up so I’ve just approximated the application of eyeliner and mascara, here.

Now I’m building a mental list of those alterations, it’s maybe not quite practically finished – 75% perhaps – but the shaping and proportioning is locked-in and finished so I can sleepwalk through the rest: right corner needs to be evened; pupils need to be dilated more; eyebrow needs to be softer, lower lid lashes need to be uh, added still; strands of hair need to be added – long hair this time.

And maybe some patterning on the iris, though honestly after seeing with the last one, just how little detail is needed for a realistic looking eye – long as it’s placed right – I dunno I really give a fuck for the rigmarole of drawing-in a bunch of light/shadow strips when they’re really just unnecessary.

The iris still needs to be shaded fully – that’ll do.

I’ve learnt one new fact over the last few weeks: taking my contacts out before drawing is not only unnecessary, but a negative.

Being short-sighted I have always had like, microscopic vision close-up whenever my lenses are removed and while the world is fuzzy from a few feet outwards, that same defect on my vision makes super-close-range focus super clear – I can literally see every strand of fiber in a chunk of wood I’m carving; every undulation in the surface texture of a sheet of paper and the individual depressions caused by lines I’ve drawn – all two inches from my nose if I feel like looking that close.

I’ve always figured that’s best for drawing and painting because – obviously – the more detail I can see, the more I can pack in.

However, once my contact lenses are back in and vision corrected the overall effect from the other side the room isn’t the same and often doesn’t look good at all unless you’re looking at it from right in front of your face, so drawing with contacts in allows me to create something specifically designed to look best from the itthat side the room which is – also obviously – how it’s going to be viewed and this is why I can just disregard most of the detail and still have a drawing feel like a real human eye staring back at me when I look at it.

So of course, the other day I decided I’m much better off to just leave my lenses in from here im out when I’m drawing – not only does this result in better artwork, but artwork that takes a fraction of the time because I’m not bogged down trying to fill every square inch of paper with as much detail as humanly possible.

Still would remove said contacts for carving wood or stone of course, because every time the pocket-knife blade slips – being sharp enough to shave with it only has to touch a finger and I’m gushing blood everywhere.

Don’t believe me? Here’s a photo of the last ‘minor cut’ I got – simply by allowing my focus to drift for a second while carving..

What the fuck right, it’s Halloween: when else are gore-spattered photographs more acceptable ๐Ÿค”

Had the bone not stopped the blade in the above cut I would no longer have a tip on that finger, though the cuts happen so fast you don’t even feel them happen – always just feels like a paper cut.

I actually love the colour of my own blood, so I’m not in the least bit squeamish at all, but the few cuts I’ve got carving with these knives always result in this amount of blood and there’s just only so many times I can slice my finger to the bone and be lucky enough to miss a tendon – cut through one if them and there goes the use of THAT finger, though I’ve managed to luck-out, not causing any permanent damage so far.

Whatever though that’s completely off topic, not what I’m currently doing anyhoo and I’ve gotta go finish this eye.

Pencils are certainly safer tools for creative output.

I want a photo of Ahlei’s eye while she’s smiling: work my way through all the facial expressions -to match each emotional state and I’m sure I’ve got the perfect photo but cannot find it among the thousands of photos on my phone – hers can be happy.

Then I’ll want photos of different eyes for confusion, anger, sadness, love – which comes with several different expressions so I’m not certain which one best represents that particular emotion..

And whatever other emotionally affected states an eye can, be in.

Surprise, hatred, there’s not really that many emotions so it isn’t like there’s an endless list.

I also want porridge..

And there we have it.

The little spark that ignites the little flame that begins defrosting that little chamber so cloaked in inky blackness so long, it collapsed on itself.

Every good thing begins with that warm inner light.


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