The Day Before Yesterday A Man With A Beard Fondled My Genitalia

It sounds odd I know but it's been some years since a man, hirsute or otherwise, played with my genitalia. The last time I can recall it was the name of drunken tom foolery but this time was in the name of medicine.

He informed me that my, "tackle" all seemed to be functional so I'd better head off to Melbourne, spoof into a jar and let them decide why I seem to be incapable of fertitlising my woman's eggs (or whatever they are).

He did ask me if I was having vaginal intercourse which made me wonder how many people he asks who reply, " Why no, good doctor, if I'd known that was a prerequisite for impregantion I'd have desisted from taking her up the poop shoot".

At least he said he was a doctor.

Male Menopause

I reckon that might be it.

I was walking back from the shops today with my usual scowl and overbearing sense of irritation which was added to today by a severe itching all over when it dawned on me. I'm going through the menopause, this is what it's like.

Consider the facts.

I've been pissed off for the last couple of weeks with no good reason (apart from the giving up smoking while living on an island in the middle of nowhere with nothing except fishing, fighting and farting for a social life) and now I feel itchy and hot.

Tomorrow I'm going to the doctors to arrange a dirty weekend in Melbourne where I've got to wank into a jar (don't ask).

That should cheer me up (the trip to the doctors rather than the wank into a jar - which probably will cheer me up come to think of it).

Ambivalence to Ambiguity

So this is it, my 100th blog...and it's only taken me how many years to get here, what a pathetic creature I am.

But hey, let's not be too hard, that's not what I logged on for today, today I wanted to write about my ambiguous feelings with regard to living here.

I am about to commence my third year on the island and while I have spent most of the last two years moaning about it to anyone who showed the slightest interest I now find myself quite enjoying the lifestyle.

It goes without saying that we have pretty much decided to do this year and then make other plans which any clown will tell you has probably made me more inclined to enjoy myself but I've also taken to swimming in the sea, swimming in the pool and generally making more of an effort.

But I feel rather moody and not inconsiderably irritable. Did I mention that I've given up smoking and last month started my 40th year?

So to summarise (in a triumphant and rousing end to my 100th Blog) I feel a bit queer but I don't know whether it's attributable to

• Being middle aged.
• Giving up smoking.
• The prospect of leaving my home of the last two years and heading back into a maelstrom of family and friends and a failed career.
• Being generally inclined to depression and confusion about life.

Now that's what I call an uplifting dismount. I can almost hear the soaring strings.

's bin so long

I can't even remember where I was when I last wrote.

Wherever it was I imagine that I was bemoaning the fact that I was soooo busy and promising to write again soon with plenty of interesting anecdotes and stories which will change your life.

I didn't.

I either lied or was delusional which may or may no be the same thing as there are three types of liars, people who know they are lying, people who don't know they lying and a third type which lie. I know there's more to it than that but I was reading on the toilet and it was all over before I had a chance to digest the complete article.

Next time I go for a sit down I'll fill you in more comprehensively on the matter but as I'm a little irregular at the moment it may not be for some time.

Anyway, the long and the short of it is that I'm back so....well, so!