Ok so there's a lot to say.

Where do I start.

We have a new PM named Kevin, I threw that Matt idiot into a wall on Friday night and nearly committed suicide today with a cap of smack I bought off a toothless asian Junkie on Bourke st.

Oh and yes, to my surprise Brendan Nelson became the new opposition leader instead of Malcolm Turnball. The libs are so fucked and can't seemed to move past the out-dated Howard era.

I'm writing this entry on smack.

I took it to function.

I broke down so many times today. Ok, so picture a guy (with good hair) walking around the city crying. If you saw this, it may have been me. So what do you think? am I a dirty old poof yet???

What's the source of my misery??? What makes people happy???? What makes them unhappy??? If you can answer those questions for me I might be able to tell you.

Perhaps it's got something to do with loving a guy who I know it can't work with. Yes, I am talking about John - he's great but he is very dysfunctional. Perfect personality, for some reason he can't hold down a job. He's nearly 26, I cant see this being solved anytime soon. I feel pissed off and hopeless with him - without I'm just totally fucking lost. I feel unloved, ugly, unattractive, unsure. Etc. I've felt so fucking foul this year that everything else seems insignificant. What's the point in being succesful at your career, having money, having a nice place to live when your fucking ugly. HA! Not that I actually think that I am. It's more like a feeling of people not loving you and that people will NOT love you. People don't seem to love each other because someone has a good career or cause they are smart or whatever. I'm not sure why people do or why they love each other or why I can't seem to find anyone to love me. Or why it matters so much.

Is this heading in the right direction or are my words so seperated from their feelings ATM that they simply don't mean anything.

GOD = insert answer here please sir/madam.

I once said you can tell a bitter old queen from a mile off - mutton dressed as lamb.

What is it about growing old as a gay man that is so fucking terrifying. That leaves many perfectly reasonable people a blubbering fucking mess.

Two people this week have told me I need to work out who I am. I don't think that is fair. I've asked other close friends about this and they say no I have a good sense of who I am. I think I do, I know who I am. If there is one thing I will say is a sore point is that perhaps I don't know what I am in the sense of being 27 and at the crossroads of my life. What does a 27 year old do with their life? What do they do in their spare time? How do other people see u when your that age? Come again perhaps this whole thing IS a dirty big identity crisis.

Now let me tell u about this junky I met.

I remember him from the school bus. Real grotty smart arse he was.

Anyway, he turns up with two kids and his girlfriend.

Let's call her Crystal - although her real name is Simone - because Crystal Meth has the most disgusting drug-fucked, spotty, pock-holed gaunt cheeks I have ever seen. She was so skinny, I would have bought drugs off in a second....a sad case like that really knows their drugs.

Crystal left and Daniel stayed on for some reason. I walked up the street and he asked to come with me. On the way, he told me he had been reading this new book called "the secret".

He told me how its clear the positive thinking techniques had led him to find two twenty cent pieces. He went on and on about it. He asked me what I think.

"Um, I suppose I would have to read it all to decide" I told him and quickly changed the topic.

Later, he told me how he had been in jail and shared a guy with someone who thought may have been a pedophile. He said he was so scared by prison he hadn't done crime since. I'm not sure if I believed him. He also said that he spent a lot of time in prison working out. And I did believe him. The fact he had no shirt on helped with that.

That night he started playing with my legs and told me he used to get a headjob off a guy in prison. It was hot. In the end, we slept in the same bed together but didn't do anything. I sensed he was a bit confused. The next day he got up and told Deborah that the idea "made me horny, but I'm not sure if I want to do it...I still like pussy tho". Well that's a relief! I was about to call a doctor. ha. He tried to talk to me when we were shooting up in the room about it. I didn't want to hear about it, it's not like I'm dying to fuck u - if want it, it's here - if not, fine, fuck off. I'm not your counsellor. If u like cock fine, if u like cock and pussy well fucking get over it.

Okay, so Marion had her first shot of H last night.

And Marion liked it. But expected to be more off my dial.

It's a strange sensation. I just felt extremely relaxed. I slept for 14 hours and woke up this morning feeling pumped.

Now I just feel sick. It's a real effort to be at the computer. I feel like I'm coming down with something. But I'll b ok. The junky who I took it with me says the idea is not to take it two nights in a row. Just deal with the bad feeling when uve got it he said.

I'm dealing with it. I've just taken two zoloft. It's kind of nice being my own doctor.

I'll tell u what I'm not dealing with and that's not being loved. I know it sounds melodramatic. Boo-hoo, how fucking sad for me. It's not like I'm a Cambodian peasant with a slave labour job, three bananas and diarrhea. But I really need to be seeing someone all the time or i feel a bit empty. I'm not sure why these boys want to fuck me once and then I never hear from them again.

Hello god, it's me Margaret - why don't have a boyfriend.

God "because your a bad root".

Or something.

Fucked if I know.

What would Jesus do???

Last night my friend and I purposefully invited two guys over who wanted to fuck us.

What do we like about these guys??? Their good looks? Their personality?

No, we are really incredibly wet for their drugs.

It's the second night they have come over, pumped us full of bongs, smokes and bourbon and then left without getting any.

I'll give them another 2 times before they realise what is going on and we never see them again. But there will be others. Even smart men have a terrible habit of thinking with their dicks.

At one stage last night I got hungry for crystal meth or "wine spritzers" as we like to call them. I thought if we pushed it far enough they might buy us some. I started sitting there playing with nipples and we went through the kitchen debating the best thing to put on them to be licked off. We settled on cream cheese, but then I got too stoned and chickened out. They left to go out and take pills. We stayed and cacked ourselves when they left.

I'm happy with that.

It's a common thing for me after a relationships ends....no, let me re-phrase that....after I get dumped by the latest hot young thing I'm dating....I go out, use guys up, not cause I need to financially - but the ego boost is so hot right now.

I've got three months off work. To "get well" again. So I'll plenty of time to find men who like looking after me. Frankly, it's either them or centrelink and when it comes down to it, I think both would be rather fetching.

Ok I have a problem with teenage boys.

Like a huge problem.

I will not stand for being treated like a sexual object by them anymore.

I broke up with the last 18 year old on Monday. He had a fetish for my ginger pubes. I'm serious. He could not get enough of them. He cheated on me with a red-head and then dumped me for a guy who I suspect is a closet red-head. I remember a girl telling me how horrified she was at discovering her hot ex-boyfriend only dated fat chicks. Well that's how I felt when he spent the first couple of days together demanding to see my pubic hair.

Anyway, his ginge fetish was not enough to keep him interested in me. The little emo bastard invited his new fuck over on Monday night....while I was still there. This other guy was 18, too much make-up and way too-much fake tan - a common error among young queens. Despite using every trick I could muster from 10 years of being emotionally ripped apart by bitchy gay men....the end result was me being kicked out and him leaving with the teenage tart. In retrospect and if the feelings weren't there, a threesome probably would have been the best option.

In the following days I tried sending naked pictures, in-jokes and "hey, I've got other options" type messages. Nothing. I'm willing to pay money, but I'm not telling him that. Finally I sent a message "Luke is moving from Melbourne, he will no longer be contactable on this number". Attention please. Love me, love me, love me.

Nothing.

Oh well, 18 year old boys cum too quickly anyway.

I have created this blog to discuss whether or not I am a dirty old poof yet. This is an existential question that involves destroying your life to find out the answer.

Feedback and suggestions welcome