My love for inanimate objects knows no bounds.

There is a tenderness hidden amongst all this gristle.

So here’s something you probably didn’t know about me. Did you know that I sleep with a teddy bear? His name is monkey, and he is, believe it or not, a monkey. He has a knitted body and a rubber face, I think that there used to be a generic face that people could buy and then knit their own bodies, you know, like how back in the day we were more resourceful and could actually do stuff, as opposed to now, when we can't. Anyway, during times of duress I tend to regard him as sort of a talisman, also, I can tell how I’ve slept during the night by his position when I wake up. He sleeps at the foot of my bed and I tuck him in before I tuck myself in. We’ve been together for a while now, but there was a long time where we apart. He got eaten by a dog when I was younger, chewed his damn face off. I remember being very distraught. I loved that monkey. I never thought I’d see him again, but then my mother found another version of him at a garage sale a few years ago. I was so happy. I never thought I’d be the kind of guy that would have a teddy when he was older and to be honest, in a way, its kind of embarrassing.

A friend of mine sent me one of those emails a little while ago that has a list of questions that I had to finish off like “I wish…” or “My happiest memories are of…” and unfortunately I happened to be in a bad mood when I received it so I answered it like a little emo bitch, for which I apologize. I had to have a bit of a think about the happiest memories one though, which was a bit of a bummer. Nothing seemed to jump to mind, I mean, I could have listed so many unhappy memories it would have been like reading a misery memoir, but anyway, after giving it some thought I listed a couple. One I forgot to mention was a memory of me sitting at our kitchen table feeding Monkey soup. If I could go back to any time in my life, I think it would be then. I remember being so happy with him there, my friend, my companion, Monkey. When I tuck him in at night I can’t help but think about this. I wonder if he remembers me? I hope so.

Wow, have you ever had that thing where you try to write something a bit sweet and tender as opposed to your usual creepy smut and then you read over it and realize that its still as creepy, only with out the smut. Fine, I may as well top it off then. From where I stand at work I can see out the window, across the road and into the public toilet that is on the corner. Yesterday, I accidentally saw an aboriginal lady take a shit. Take that my eyes.