NSW

This Motherf*cking Virus

Week three of another lockdown and I’ve started writing a work of kinda-fiction, because why not. Also part two of the months post, because the other one got stuck and I can’t be arsed fucking ’round with it when contining in a new one is, easier.

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Queen of the Hive

This months post will not be all about her but really, she’s pretty engaging: though I’ll use words like “Cute” and “Feisty” as descriptors for Amanda, she’s more complicated than that – the reason she’s central to the plot recently is that she’s central to the cleaning.

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Outing #46: Last outing, for now.

A pigeon already cursed with ugliness gets mowed down by a tourist who denies doing it, seven cockatoo set karma right though, I mouth-feed one of them and .. you know this post spans a full fortnight – I cannot condense that much into an excerpt.. 14,531 words this week and counting.

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Bird is the word.

Today I went to work, threatened my employer with legal action, started smoking cannabis right outside the library on the steps, got saved for another few days with $50 from my Mother and fed a gorgeous pigeon. You?

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Outing #43: Back to the bush

Thanks to the women at the pharmacy, I’ve got a tin of shortbread biscuits to stop me eating moths for tonight, and thank you Michele – best ex I’ve ever had.

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Outing #41: Back to civilization

New sunglasses, a newly cleaned campsite and a new woman telling me to hurry-up and end the camping silliness and return to her.

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Outing #39 Shuddup and lick, skunk-apes!

Almost completely fictitious post I imagined-up out of pure boredom; the animals weren’t doing anything new, meh ..whatever.

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Outing #39: You there! Koala Bear!

Loud, random belching noises from very near the tent every night finally conclude, in what I’m told is a very rare sighting down there now: a genuine wild Koala Bear.

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Outing #39: The Confident Currawong

Broeski’s back around the tent, making going for water difficult, and a Currawong who likes to FLIRT with DEATH.

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Outing #39: The wet Season is finally here

Means I get to collect runoff from the tents’ fly for drinking water because I’m too lazy to walk to the creek, and because brown rainwater isn’t so bad once you’re used to the gritty bits.

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