Category Archives: Uncategorized

Die, Spam-bots. Die!

Mood: Peeved!

Due to an influx of Spam-bot activities, I have had to switch off the Comments function to my blog.

All comments posted prior to today will still appear. That is, all comments that are from humans and not Spam-bots. From today, no one will be able to post any further comments.

I would still love to read your comments and feedback, so please feel free to email me. My email address is in my Profile page.

Thank you, Spam-bots for ruining the fun for everyone. Twats.


Right of Reply

Mood: Speechless

What should have been the end of my blogs about Fat Bastard turned out to be the penultimate entry.

Below is Fat Bastard’s reply to the blog in question. I believe everyone is entitled to a right of reply, but I have no intention of outing the real identity of Fat Bastard, nor do I wish to see his face amongst the comments on my blog. I have therefore deleted the comment and reposted it here without any references to his real name nor his picture, both of which were present in his comment.

I don’t actually remember abusing you or flying off the handle about your blog entries and I certainly never threatened legal action. You can call me childish names on your blog all you like. My exact comment was that after never having a bad word to say about you to anyone, you felt the need to bad mouth me to my friends and on your blog. I was also extremely disappointed about some glaring omissions in your version of events, namely that I was not with S at the time which seems to be a convenient untruth you keep peddling, to by your own admission make you seem like the victim. I remember clearly that I was not with S because she stayed at my place on the night of the cricket on a mattress on my bedroom floor and that was the first thing the two of us had done together in a long time. The relevance of the cricket is that it was at the SCG that I asked you to give me some space out of respect for her. You know what happened next and I am not going to go into details, but needless to say your behaviour put me in a fairly untenable position as far as us continuing to have any involvement. You also knew that I had no interest in a relationship because of my previous long term relationship with S and again by your own admission post the event I was always upfront and clear about what I had to offer and you just did not want to hear that. I was also a little miffed that many years after I had long forgotten about all these events, you still felt the need to maintain the rage and blog about them and still today you have a lot anger about things that happened almost 4 years ago. I think it is time to let it go G.

I am not going to justify Saturday night nor am I going to correct your flawed description of what happened because simply it is none of your business, it is between K, S and myself. I will say though that you have once again given your distorted version of events and have a whole lot to say about something that a) you didn’t witness and b) has nothing to do with you. You yourself stated a hatred for S despite having never met her and never having done anything to you. This is different to K and S not getting along how? What happened on Saturday night was not just about her being there on Saturday night. I am not saying that I am glad that things happened the way they did and in the cold light of day without alcohol involved it could have been handled better.

I would also point out that although K and I spent some time sitting in the corner by ourselves, this is actually fairly common for us because we are very much in love and enjoy each other’s company. That is what being in love is about, being in a room full of people and not even caring what is going on around you, which is exactly why we are getting married. I never felt that way about S, hence why I ended the relationship. About the only thing I agree with you on is that yes she is much better off without me because now she can go and find someone that feels about her the way I feel about K. I actually want nothing more than S to be happy, but I have also told her clearly on a number of occasions that I do want her to have any involvement in my life. I am incredibly happy, in fact happier than I have ever been, so why would her happiness adversely affect mine.

So I am not going to tell you what to do with your blog entry. Leave it up if you like. I think most people are intelligent enough to see it as the rant that it is.

My blog, my thoughts. I don’t have to justify anything to you. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. And if, like you said, you’d long forgotten the events, why do you care if my writings are "distorted" and "untrue"? For all you know, this blog is a work of fiction, and I’m just a figment of your overactive imagination. No one invited you to this party, so how about you let me go? Clearly, you can’t seem to let go either.

Oh, and thanks for boosting my readership. I thought only a very small handful of my friends actually read this blog. Your eagerness to spread the word has given my blog a healthy boost in the number of times my entries have been viewed.

And don’t bother. Any further comments from you will be deleted, just so there are more convenient untruths for me to distort in the future.

Pfft. Whatever. Goodbye.

Fat Bastard & His Poisonous Ways

Mood: Pissed Off

I haven’t blogged about Fat Bastard for a very long time. But in light of the exceptionally bad behaviour on display by him and his mentally disturbed fiancé over the weekend, I am in need of a very good venting.

The history behind Fat Bastard and I goes like this – boy meets girl, boy dates girl, girl leaves boy after finding out boy wasn’t as single as girl was led to believe, girl hates boy, girl tries to forget boy, girl moves on, boy calls girl months later, girl lets boy back into girl’s life, girl gets burnt by boy again, girl hates boy even more, years later girl finally forgives boy, girl lets boy back into girl’s life (again) and girl gets incinerated by boy.

Yes, so we met through mutual friends, we dated, and we split when I found out that I wasn’t in a mutually exclusive relationship with him. I moved on, but he came back for a second bite of the cherry, and I let him. Disgusted with myself afterwards, I trash talked him through years of hatred. I eventually forgave him and myself and started talking to him again, only be drawn into yet another web of lies and I wound up with a broken heart and messed up ego, again.

In early March this year, I told Fat Bastard about my blog. We met up for a drink, as friends, and talked through a number of issues. At the time, to complete my circle of recovery, I thought I needed to be completely honest with him, so I told him about a number of not-so-flattering entries relating to him in my blog. He was keen to read them, so I told him where to look but only after he agreed to remain calm at all times during his review. I also repeatedly reminded him that I was upset when I wrote the entries.

He broke his promise and flew off the handle. He told me that what I wrote was tantamount to libel and that the paper-thin disguise I gave him was a pathetic attempt to hide his identity. By calling him Fat Bastard, I may as well have flown over Sydney in an airship with his face plastered all over it, announcing to the world that he and Fat Bastard were one and the same.

I was crushed. For the longest time, I held on to a belief that Fat Bastard was someone special, someone I wanted to keep in my life, someone worthy of my time. I spent the next couple of months grovelling and apologising, hoping to be forgiven for allowing him to read my diary. In no uncertain terms, he asked me to remove those entries, to which I stupidly and blindly complied. I even posted a public apology as a follow up.

This proved to be the end for us. There was no going back. There wasn’t even a remote chance of salvaging some form of friendship. Fat Bastard and I were over. End of story.

In all the time I’ve known Fat Bastard, I’ve also know of S, his childhood sweetheart. They dated for 10 years before splitting for good at the beginning of this year. I had never officially met S – I’d heard about her and seen her a few times at social gatherings. Over the last 4 years, I grew an intense dislike for S, not because S is a horrible person, but because I chose to believe the fat lies that Fat Bastard fed to me about S.

When Fat Bastard and I first started dating, he told me that he had just ended a long-term relationship. He assured me that the relationship was over, and was ready to enter into something with me. As it turned out, the whole time Fat Bastard was dating me, he was still seeing S. I became suspicious of S’s presence, and Fat Bastard explained it away with "She’s been in my life for a long time and I want to remain friends with her". I was told I had to deal with it, so I tried my best to be understanding.

At the time, S too became suspicious about my presence. When S no doubt questioned Fat Bastard about me, he explained me away with the fattest lie of all. That I was stalking Fat Bastard.

Worse still, it was communicated to me that S was calling me names and branding me a stalker in public. Fat Bastard relished in the drama of my increasing loathing towards S based on his repeated reminders that S hated me. Lies, lies and more lies. And he loved it. Not only did he infect S and me with poisonous words about the other, he managed to create an illusion to the rest of our group of mutual friends that S and I were tripping over each other fighting over him. Talk about having tickets on himself.

Things may well have turned out differently for everyone if Fat Bastard hadn’t met Special K, the aforementioned mentally disturbed fiancé. They met earlier this year when Special K advertised for a flatmate. Fat Bastard moved into the house and they started dating almost straight away. Within 5 months of dating, Fat Bastard and Special K were engaged.

It was a bit of a shock to me, as Fat Bastard had always been against marriage. Earlier this year, prior to meeting Special K, he also told me that one of the main reasons he and S broke up was because S was pushing for marriage, and he knew he would never marry, so he had to let her go; set her free. So when I found out Fat Bastard was getting married, to someone he’d known for 5 minutes, my heart went out to S, even though I’d never met her and I still held a belief that she hated me.

On Saturday night, I finally officially met S. And I kicked myself for not having the courage to meet her sooner.

S is lovely. She’s funny, friendly and outgoing, exactly the kind of person I would enjoy spending time with. It was awkward for the first couple of minutes, but we soon chatted like long lost friends.

A mutual friend was hosting his birthday bash in the city on Saturday night. S and I were both invited, as were Fat Bastard and Special K. I arrived at the party first, followed by S. By the time Fat Bastard and Special K arrived, S and I had become fast friends.

I chose to stay out of Fat Bastard’s way, but we still managed to bump into each other. He was civilised and we exchange muted greetings before walking away. I saw Special K from afar, but was never introduced to her. Nor did I want to be.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but I couldn’t help but notice that at various points of the evening, Fat Bastard and Special K seemed ill-at-ease and chose to sulk in a corner and talk between themselves instead of joining in the party.

Whereas I kept my distance, my best mate Emily spent a fair chunk of the evening talking Fat Bastard and Special K. I will never understand why she does what she does. She said she "needed to appear to be strategically friendly" with Fat Bastard. If only I knew what that meant, then I might not feel like she is somehow betraying our friendship.

Meanwhile, I spent a fair bit of time talking to S at the party, and the more I talked to her, the more I was kicking myself for thinking she was anything else but a lovely person. S’s date, G was equally lovely and we shared many laughs throughout the evening.

Towards closing time at the pub where the party was, we were asked to move from our bar to another bar on the ground floor. As S and I were about to move, Special K barged her way through the very small gap between S and I and mumbled something along the lines of "move out of my way, midgets". Granted, S and I are both around the 5’3" mark – we can’t help being normal height. At nearly 6′, Special K was the freakishly tall person amongst us, but that didn’t give her the right to be nasty to people she’d never met, nor was it a free pass for her to drop her shoulder and hip into me to push me out of the way.

I chose not to let it bother me, and continued to the ground floor bar to have another drink. By this time, the body was getting more and more weary, and at 1am, I called it a night. I bade farewell to S and G and Em, who was originally going home with me but chose to stay on with the party, and went off in search of the birthday boy. A big hug and a kiss later, I was on my way home.

I was to find out over the course of Sunday and Monday what happened after I left.

At the next venue, Fat Bastard and Special K targeted S and displayed some incredibly appalling behaviour. Fat Bastard caught up with S and asked her why she was at the party, when the guest of honour was his friend and S had no right to be there. S countered that the birthday boy was also her friend, and she was extended a personal invitation to the party. Heated words were exchanged before Fat Bastard slunk back to a corner and continued to sulk.

Special K went one step better. With a drink in her hand, she approached S and proceeded to empty the contents of the glass all over S. For S, it was a complete surprise as 1) Special K was a stranger to her – they had never met, and 2) the action seemed to be condoned by a man she loved for 10 years. As if that wasn’t enough, Special K then took a swing at S, who fortunately missed the flying fist. Unfortunately, another friend, L, ended up copping the blow and left the pub with a black eye, utterly disgusted by Fat Bastard and Special K’s behaviour.

Amazingly, the bouncers did nothing to eject Special K, which left her and Fat Bastard with more time to plan the next assault.

Sure enough, Special K came back for Round 2. This time, she had another full drink in her hand which she threw all over S, with a large amount landing on Emily. Special K took another swing, this time connecting with S’s head. Some pushing and shoving ensued and the entire party was eventually ejected. S was understandably upset and shaken, and went home with her own black eye.

Round 3 continued on Sunday, when Fat Bastard sent S an SMS, telling her he hoped she had learned a lesson from the previous night, and that S should know by now that she was not f@#%ing welcome at future gatherings.

No, dude, you are the one that is no longer f@#%ing welcome at future gatherings. Too many people either saw or heard what happened, and your actions, along with those of your crazy fiancé’s have rendered the two of you persona non grata.

Did it irk Fat Bastard to see S having a good time? Did it make him feel all horrid and twisted inside to see that S wasn’t a wasted wreck of a human being that he had predicted she would turn into when he dumped her? Instead, appearing in front of him was one gorgeous and confident young woman whose date spent the evening fawning over her. One he can never be with again.

I can only surmise that it almost killed Fat Bastard to see S had moved on and was looking better than ever. He may have had delusions of grandeur that she would completely fall apart without him, but even Blind Freddy could see that she was much better off without him.

I too am better off without him. For so long, Fat Bastard fed me lies – how he felt, what S allegedly said about me, how S allegedly felt about me. I believed the poison he fed me. And that’s what it was – poison. No doubt he’s been feeding Special K the same brand of poison, only this time, the poison had a different effect, which saw Special K launch herself at an innocent S, someone Special K has never met and knew nothing about.

So, as a parting shot, I dedicate Alice Cooper’s "Poison" to you, Fat Bastard. You are poison. May your actions continue to speak louder than words, so that everyone may see your true colours.

Your cruel device
your blood, like ice
One look, could kill
My pain, your thrill…

I wanna love you but I better not touch
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison
Your poison running through my veins
Your poison
I don’t wanna break these chains.

Your mouth, so hot
Your web, I’m caught
Your skin, so wet
Black lace, on sweat

I hear you calling and it’s needles and pins
I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name
Don’t wanna touch you but you’re under my skin
I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison
Your poison running through my veins
Your poison
I don’t wanna break these chains.

Running deep inside my veins
Posion burning deep inside my veins

One look, could kill
My pain, your thrill…

I wanna love you but I better not touch
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison
Your poison running through my veins
Your poison
I don’t wanna break these chains.


I wanna love you but I better not touch
I wanna hold you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison
Your poison running through my veins
Your poison
I don’t wanna break these chains.


First Entry – Welcome to Blogging

Welcome to The Gee Spot!

Until recently, I never thought I had a need to have a virtual space to share my thoughts. It wasn’t until I reviewed my list of contacts that I realised how many friends and family members I have all over the world, and how lazy I have been with writing to each and every one of them!

Having done the review, I thought an investigation into a personal page was warranted. Just as well then that I have so many different free webmail addresses!

So, here it is – my space – where I intend to contemplate, deliberate, ruminate, cogitate, examinate and debate the facts of life according to Gee. Stay tuned!