Customer Service

I eat out a fair one. As a result I've noticed a lot of the nuances that are involved in a dining experience.

For waiters/waitresses, the thing that sets them apart from the rest is intuition.

Some have this magical talent to pick exactly what "vibe" the diner is after and adjust their serving accordingly. You know, like people on a first date are fucked so you want to keep it quick and lively so they don't die an unbearable death at the table (because they probably will later, when the guy turns out to be a nutcase and slices her cunt out of her body and throws her off a bushland).

SO here's a tip for those enthusiastic waiters/waitresses that are starting out and are eager to impress:

If the diner's nose and eyes are watering, the dish is too fucking hot and asking if it is too spicy is not required.

I think this "come back" thing was perhaps not the thing I was looking for.

A View To A Kill

I clutched the branch and looked down at the ground below. It must be 20 metres.

I have no.idea.how I got here.

There were no lower branches that would support my weight.

I looked down at the ground again and could make out the distant figure of a bird grazing on the seeds below. I considered jumping and using the bird to cushion my fall.

How the fuck would I get down? No one would ever hear me scream. No one would come by.

And that's when I learnt that my horoscope was right for the day. Unexpected things would happen, but only when I put business to the back of my mind.

Two Shit Performances

We were being quiet because she was shy and she didn't want the other people in the house to know that we were doing it. That was cool because normally I'm so bad at sex there is no noise. But she was anticipating that she would be making noise soon. Positive.

We heard someone walking up the stairs, followed by the door closing on the second floor bathroom that, coincidentally, adjoined the room we were in.

We started by fooling around by a bit. Not making noises was kind of cool. I could hear her breathing get deeper. That was hot.

From the adjoining room there was a groan.

I was sucking on her earlobe. She liked it.

A faint splash. And another groan.

I stopped sucking her earlobe and lost my place. To get the momentum back I started kissing her again. We did this for a while.

Silence from the bathroom. Not even shifting position. What was going on?

I stopped kissing her because I couldn't simultaneously concentrate on kissing her and wonder what was going on in the bathroom.

Was that a noise?

I placed my hand on her chest and guided her down so she was laying on the bed.

Silence. Maybe it wasn't a noise.

I was lightly kissing her stomach and general torso area. Anything to get back in the mood.

And that's when I learnt that I can't perform sexually when I know someone is taking a shit nearby.

Grapefruit and Oysters - Little in Common

"How long have your balls smelled like grapefruit for?" she asked, moving her head away from my crotch.

That's a tough question to answer.

The first thought that came into my mind was that this was a trap question. If I admitted that my balls, yes, have smelled like grapefruit for quite some time then I am admitting that either the smell is pungent to a point of notice or, even worse, that I actively smell my own balls.

I should have been prepared for it. Everything else I did that night - every movement and word spoken - was done in order to get this girl's head buried in my crotch. Note: Not buried like a dead body. Buried like a treasure. A treasure of the flesh.

But I forgot the main thing: make sure your balls do not smell like grapefruit when the moment arrives.

But the second thought that came into my mind was whether or not grapefruits had a bad odour. Maybe she liked the smell and was curious as to how I had developed such a wonderful crotch.

And then it was 5 AM and I felt cold because the door was still open from seven hours ago, she she left, confused at my lack of talking.

And that's how I learnt to plan everything fully and to not cut corners.

Liquid Diet - Why Not Tryeit

So I've been doing this thing lately called "the liquid diet".

Oh, sorry for not being round heaps lately, but once you read this post you'll see why.

So, anyway, been on the liquid diet. It's this crazy thing that a friend of mine (more a doctor really) recommended to me.

Did you know that by substituting non-liquid meals (carbon-based ones, for instance) for liquid-based meals you can cure a disease known as morbid obesity?

Well I fucking didn't, that's for sure.

So there I am in a coffee shop, composing a song about slide rulers and drinking a liquid, when I get approached with an offer of an anything to eat or a menu by a man in an apron. Curious sight, I shit you not.

Long story short I resisted the massive temptations and went back to my composition. Couldn't finish it because my train of thought was lost, but that's beside the point.

And that's how I learnt that while a liquid diet may cure obesity, it will not cure agoraphobia.