Weekend

Went up to the bay for the weekend - the oil slick hadn't hit Tin Can yet. That is the view from the deck of Mum's beach house - naturally, whenever I take a woman there I pretend that I own it - generally works a treat!

It is a pretty small place though; it only has one bakery. Which kind of sucks if you've fucked over one of the chicks that works there. So stale bread from the mini-mart it was!
Last night I had dinner with the only woman who I've known for longer than a decade that doesn't want to push me under a bus. It was her final night in Brisbane before four weeks in the Land of the Free. Naturally I spent the evening seething with jealousy.

I'd grabbed some seafood fresh from 'the trawler' at the Bay on Sunday for her to cook - it was so gooood.
But my work as an amateur sommelier was my finest moment, and even elicited the following response-

"Michael is the best I've had all year!"

She was talking about this

A bottle of Wynns 1994 Michael Shiraz - not the 1974 vintage Michael that writes this crap. It takes a special sort of dinner guest to take wines with the same appellation to a meal!
Off to dinner with a crony in about 5 minutes and then some trawling of the Irish bars to see what St Pat's day drags in. Hope you're all well

Booty Calls & Disco Balls

In defence of the booty call.

The life of a singleton is not an easy one. Living by oneself is more expensive than cohabiting , talking to oneself has never had much social cachet and waiting alone for death, hunched in a rocking chair on the verandah of a dilapidated, government owned nursing home, is an end to life that appeals to very few of us. But, for some, it is our fate. It is not so much the life that we chose, but rather, it is what life chose for us.

So when we hook up with other like minded singletons, we don't head to the bars and clubs in couple territory; we employ our own ruse de guerre. The booty call. It is when we arrange a convenient time for a meeting on a higher, more emotional plane. Admittedly, the time to hook up will be desperately close to the time of the call. The call will undoubtedly be made under the influence of about a dozen drinks. And the call will be made post-midnight.

But does that in itself make it bad? Does it make the feelings behind it less real? I'd answer a resounding no to both. Some people believe that it objectifies the respondent; that it makes them little more than a piece of meat. I wouldn't go that far. I've done things to a booty call that I'd never do to a piece of meat. Things that I probably wouldn't do to a farm animal. That humanises it don't you think?

And booty calls aren't a one way street. There is a reciprocity in the singleton community - a generosity of fellow feeling if you will. Because, at times, all singletons like to feel that the isolation of our solitary existence can be changed by a phone call. That the other half of the bed can be filled. Even when we realise it is only temporary. And this building of a sense of community among my fellow singletons is a passion of mine.

A Booty Call is also honest. It is a frank admission that something is missing in one's life at that point in time. That one needs some Yin to complete one's Yang (or the other way around, whatever). It opens the soul of the caller to the scrutiny of the receptacle receiver - and in that moment of honesty and trust the relationship is deepened.

So rather than looking askance at the Booty Call and viewing it as nothing more than mindless drunken sex between emotionally stunted people, look at it more deeply. See it for what it really is - A reaching out to humanity, the baring of one's emotional frailties and an attempt to deepen the bond between the unlucky and the unloved.

So if you have ever believed in honesty. If you have ever believed in a sense of community with your fellow frail and afflicted single brethren. If you've ever believed that the touch of another can sooth a troubled soul. Then for the love of all that is Holy, the next time that you hear the phone ringing at half past two in the morning - take the call and jump in a taxi. Because it isn't just Booty calling, it is Duty calling.

Gin & Tonic - My Measure

I'm going to need some serious fluid replacement - and what better way to replace one's lost juices than via the fruit of the lime tree - liberally paired with Gin & Tonic, and consumed in front of the cricket.

Here is how I do it:

1. Grab some limes, a couple of bottles of Gin, a zester, two pitchers (one must be quite capacious) and a juicer - then grab yourself a small whisky - you should be rewarded for your labour.

2. You will need roughly four limes per bottle of gin. And roughly one bottle of gin per adult male - you can probably skimp a little on the kids. It is unlikely that they would need more than a third of a bottle, unless they have particularly virile livers. Zest the appropriate number of limes into the bottom of the small pitcher.

3. The limes need to be a ripe and verdant green in order to access the pungent oils that are emitted from their skin. Try to minimise the amount of white pith that you remove as it is very acidic. Use a reasonable gin - but there is no need to go top shelf - Bombay or an equivalent is fine. Pour the requisite amount of gin into the pitcher.

4. As I mentioned - in this example we are making only enough for one male to get through during Sunday's 20-20 cricket game (4 hours or so). This requires roughly 700mls (24 fl oz) of gin. If you are a serious drinker, then perhaps another half a bottle is advisable. Once the gin is added to the lime zest, allow it to stand for a moment or two (perhaps have a tumbler of scotch - a man is not a camel), then macerate the lime zest vigorously.

5. The key with macerating the zest is to make sure that all the citrus flavour that one can smell from the surface of a lime is infused into the gin. Allow it to stand for approximately 3 hours - during this time, you may wish to treat yourself to a glass or three of your favourite tipple. It should look like this

6. When the three hours have expired, remove the zest. If you leave it too long, the acidic base of the rind will make your drink ridiculously bitter - as bitter as your ex! So check it as regularly as you would check your new born child. It - not the child - should end up a greenish hue. Smell it - it should transport you to the sultry climes of a citrus orchard.

7. When you are ready to commune with your drink you will need to juice a lime or two. Then strain the lime juice to get rid of the pulp. You only need a minute amount of lime juice as the flavour has been infused by the macerating process - but it makes me feel healthy. Certainly no more than 60ml (2 oz) of lime juice per bottle of gin.

8. Add the lime juice to a large pitcher filled with ice. Cut a few limes and toss them in too - this counts as your fruit consumption for the week and it should keep you scurvy free, should you intend on spending significant amounts of time at sea.

9. Pour the Gin into the ice-filled pitcher and add a bottle (1.25L) of tonic. Garnish a glass, then enjoy one of God's great gifts to humankind.

10. All that remains is grabbing a comfy chair and flicking on the cricket

NB. After you have finished the pitcher - you may wish to wait an hour or so before operating heavy machinery or driving.