Not good with new people. But Grindr...???

As a general rule I like people. When I am
around people I know I have a good time. I’m relaxed.

I’m not good with new people. New people
scare me. The running joke at work is that it can be years before I remember
your name. It’s the whole polite thing that makes me nervous. I’m not very good
at being polite. In fact for a Communications Professional it is an outright
miracle I’ve ever been able to hold on to a job at all. Let alone be any good
at it.

Around my friends or in the office I am
possibly the rudest, crudest man in the world. Familiarity for me breeds
offensiveness. My ‘go-to-one-liner’ will always be crass. It’s how I role and
30+ years of conditioning.

But online, with the giant buffer of the
computer screen, I am nowhere near as uncomfortable with new people as I am in
person. Taking even the briefest moment to compose a (semi) polite response
makes a huge difference for me. I’m even sure some people who don’t know me in
person could actually think I am quite lovely from what they know of me online.

Which leads me to my problem.

I’m newly single as of earlier this year
and slowly but surely I’m putting myself back out there again. I’m jumping on
the dating Merry-Go-Round. And having been ‘coupled’ for such a long time it’s
a whole new world compared to the last time I was single. Now, everything
happens online. And I mean EVERYTHING! Especially for the gayers. Just Grindr
alone has completely and dramatically changed dating in the gay community.

An example of a Grindr homepage

For those unaware of Grindr… It’s a
GPS-based messaging system for the hummersexuals. It’s an iPhone app (the
reason why all gayers have iPhones!) that when you turn it on it tells you how
far away other gayers are – within metres. It is truly the greatest invention
the world has ever seen. And as it is culturally acceptable within the gay
community, everyone is incredibly direct about what they are looking for –
chat, dates, relationship, a root, any and all of the above. It’s the envy of
all straight men.

You check out their pics, you check out what
they are looking for, you check out if you know anyone or have been there
before. You then instant message with who ever and as many as you want while
you find what you are looking for. Basically it means that you can pick up
without leaving the comfort of your own lounge. My theory is that it has made
gay men the laziest species in the world. It’s easier for the gayers to find
‘company’ than rabbits.

A Grindr profile

But back to my original story.

So I’m putting myself back out there.
Chatting to boys all over the place. Online I am somewhat polite,
semi-intelligent, mildly amusing. But as you know, in person I am bordering on
being a complete asshole. So I’ve been chatting away for a while now but at
some point you have to put your money where your mouth is (or where you want it
to be) and actually meet the boys your chatting with.

A Grindr chat

Which, finally, leads me to my dilemma. Who I
am in person can be very different to who I am online – especially when
flirting with boys. When I actually go on these dates, and with the existing
familiarity we’ve developed online, is my opening line going to be “What the
fuck have you done with your hair?”. Or “Ohhhh, I see you’ve stacked on some
weight!”  

I just don’t know if I can trust myself to
be polite with new people. On a date. The thought of being polite throughout a
whole meal sends shivers of fear up my spine.

This is all too much for a 39 year old to
learn.

I am starting to think that my Grindr profile
should come with a warning…

“May seem like someone you’d like to meet
now but chances are he’ll be VILE by dessert.”

This ended up much longer than originally anticipated
so ‘the actual dates’ will become Part 2 of this post at a later date.

Also, its really important to me that you know I have taken all these pics from the Grindr website and haven't breached the privacy of anyone on Grindr. 

Cause that would just be fucking rude!

Pimp-Daddy says "Buy my house!"

So the ex, Aschapelle, and I have decided to
sell the marital home. Its our little Redfern 2-bedroom dwelling that we bought just over 2
years ago and renovated. I’d forgotten how stressful it is selling a
house!  My osteopath will benefit
as much as I will. Leaving no stone unturned in the quest to sell so I’m here
today to pimp it out. Call me Pimp-Daddy. You just never know, I may
have a stalker follower who sits at home hoping and dreaming that one day they
can sleep in my former bedroom.

Or there could just be someone looking to
buy a gorgeous terrace. Whatever your motivation it works for me.

2 Rennie St, Redfern

Our terrace sits in a beautiful little
pocket of East Redfern and is surrounded by the coolest little community. In
the early days of St. Murphy I banged on about it quite a bit – the park, the
neighbours, the reno’s. I loved living here. It’s a fantastic mix of Surry
Hills and all it has to offer but at a safe, accessible distance. East Redfern
has all the benefits of inner city living without the Surry Hills price tag.

When Aschapelle and I bought it, it had
cement floors and a 70’s kitchen and bathroom. We always saw it as something
that would need work. We bit the bullet and reno’d the kitchen and bathroom at
the same time and also did floorboards throughout. It was an absolute pain in
the ass, we swore we’d never do it again. But we were so so happy (and proud)
with the result.

Kitchen is very cool now. Looks so smart f
I do say so myself. And we pumped up our chests over the bathroom cause we
thought for two ‘design-challenged’ gay-boys it came out very masculine. Not a
floral tile to be seen but rather grey slate with a powder blue, glittering recess
with rain shower. Heaven.

Upstairs we put in a new bedroom wall
closing off a previous open space and put in built-ins. For us it was our
dressing room. Between the two of us we had a lot of clothes and needed the
whole room to express ourselves. Master bedroom has a balcony and a Foxtel
connection. We never agreed on shows – Aschapelle anything reality, me anything
scripted drama – so we needed two Foxtel connections or we would have divorced
much earlier.

Gorgeous little courtyard with rear lane
access out the back. Now this was actually the reason we initially looked at
the house. We thought Jackson and Little Sammy needed the space. So we bought
the house for our dogs only to discover that they never went out there. And
Aschapelle and I, well we rarely left the television. But it is gorgeous and
‘outdoorsy’ people would love it.

Next door is an amazing park that is absolutely
central to everything that goes on in the neighbourhood. Seriously, I’ve never
seen anything like it. I became so obsessed with it and everything it
represents that I wrote a 6000 word paper on it for Uni (yes, a HD). Its full
of toys that are there ALL THE TIME! Never stole. Such a safe and secure
neighbourhood. There’s a bbq, a compost bin, man-made swings – all provided by
the neighbours. They have neighbourhood bbq’s and drinks each Friday night
during summer.

Who wouldn’t want to buy into that?

So if you are in the market for a new 2
bedroom home or a brilliant investment please take a look. Our too-cute-for-words
real estate agent is the lovely Will Phillips from Bresic Whitney (as a general rule Bresic Whitney has the best looking agents in town, just saying!). Give him a
call. But just to be upfront; boys he’s not on our team and girls he has a
girlfriend. Call him to buy our house, not to try and get a date.

A little bit sad that we are selling. We
obviously bought in happy times. But if there is one thing that can be said
about Aschapelle and I, we’ve always been real good about keeping decisions
like this emotion free.

So buy my house! Pimp-Daddy says so.

2 Rennie St, Redfern is being shown:

Wednesday's 5.30pm to 6.00pm

Saturday's 10.45am to 11.15am

Auction: Saturday, October 8

Domain listing here!

Bresic Whitney listing here!

Do you think I should be dating?

Yesterday I was banging on about being a filthy pig. As a flippant comment I ended the post saying I think I needed a boyfriend/cleaner to sort out my hygiene issues.

But this got me thinking. My mind doesn’t work like a normal persons, rather it’s a scattered mess of crazy thoughts. It’s like a Rubik’s cube of zigzagging ideas and scatterbrain thoughts.

Hey, would dating again be such a bad thing? Is being alone all the time really what I want?

If this had crossed my mind in the last 6 months I’d shudder at the thought. I have been determinedly single. If I’ve ever met anyone I’ve been very clear that I will forget their name in 3 hours. One of the reasons for ‘the break-up’ is that I genuinely feel that I’d be happier living a life alone. I’m not good at sharing. Anything.

So what the hell were these thoughts? Dating? Surely not.

           

Once the seed had been planted my synapses started firing all over the place. First thought was ‘what the hell is dating now days anyway?’ and ‘do 39 year olds even date?’. I have absolutely no idea.

I’ve never been good at dating. In fact, I reckon you could count the number of dates I’ve been on in my adult life on one hand. My memory is bereft of good or bad dating experiences. My track record speaks for itself. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had – 2 serious, a couple other worthy mentions – I’ve met in bars or nightclubs under the influence of vodka. Each time I’ve gone straight from ‘Hi how are you?’ to head-over-heals in love. I’m very lesbian like that.

I met The Sculptor in a bar on a Friday night and on the Monday he quit his job in Melbourne to move to Sydney so we could be together. Aschappelle and I moved in together after 4 months and bought our first house after 9 months. Dating was not part of either of my two life-changing relationships. And in between relationships I’m usually too hell-bent on having fun to worry about dating. Maybe some slutting around nightclubs but that’s it.

I’m 99% sure I do not want a relationship so can I really trust myself to date without ending up back in one? Me thinks not. Not with my track record.

The other thing is that gay men have built this whole system of what can almost be considered ‘anti-dating’. We have all these tools in place where it is unbelievably easy to meet ‘like-minded’ (horny!) gay men. Online, iPhone apps, etc; our community may be fighting the good fight for Gay Marriage but there is also a recognition that there are advantages to single men loving other men. Grindr in particular has changed gay-dating forever!

But Grindr is a whole other post, and will come with a Parental Warning.

Which brings me back to ‘what the hell is dating in 2011’ and am I too old? So there is the cute boy at the fruit and veg store on Crown St, do we go for a gelato and call it a date? Or the hot boy at the gym who is most likely straight (gym attire tells you so much), if we shared a protein shake is that a quasi-straight-date? (yeh, I know you know I don’t know what a protein shake is) And what about those hot single boys on Twitter, if we met in person does that constitute a date? So goddamn confused!

And the age thing. 39. Even using the word ‘dating’ makes me uncomfortable. It seems a concept aimed at those much younger than I. Perhaps from your mid-30’s onwards we should start to call it something else? Like ‘judging’ or ‘interviewing’. Just an idea.

So after all these thoughts have been zig-zagging through my Rubik’s cube brain there is only one clear answer. NO, I should not be dating. The fact that it confused the hell out of me is a clear indication it is not for me. If I’m scared of it, don’t really know what it is or what I want from it then I really shouldn’t be doing it.

I’ll stick to nights on the couch with my Law And Order’s for a little bit longer.

Unless of course the guy at the fruit and veg shop asked me out. Then all bets are off.

Dirty Filthy Pig!

*** WARNING! This post may contain unhygienic material and coarse filthiness!

I disgust myself. I’ve started to wallow in my own filth at Man Pit.

Was driving home from Mrs Woog’s tonight (a lovely lamb shank with a Vodka Cruiser chaser!) thinking I’m going to do a post about the decline of my cleanliness standards. Since ‘the break-up’ and moving into Man Pit 5 months ago I’ve slowly regressed from extremely house proud to little-piggy-like behaviour.

So I walked in the door and the shit has hit the fan. My goddamn dogs had pulled the garbage bags (yes, plural) off the kitchen counter and spread dirty smelly rubbish throughout Man Pit.

I started screaming like a banshee!! Using the foulest language. My poor neighbours.

Absolutely vile. Dirty little fuckers.

Banished to the balcony with a swift kick up their doggy-asses.

Devo after just thinking about how lazy I’d become I’d come home to knee-deep filth. So upset. So smelly.

Dog food scraps, meat trays, cigerette butts, smashed Belvedere bottle – thank god it was empty or I’d be wearing a Cocker Spaniel coat to work tomorrow. Had to get down on my knees and scrap it all off the carpet.

One of the reasons Man Pit has been so dirty is that I am too lazy to buy new bags for my vacuum cleaner. In fact, I don’t have a clue where to buy them from. Had to make do, turned the chockers full vac on and it blew more dirt everywhere. Cried.

Pass me a knife and run me a warm bath, life should not be like this. I AM TOO GLAMOROUS TO HAVE TO CLEAN, SURELY!

This bachelor life certainly has its downsides. I don’t have a cleaner cause I’m trying to be mildly economical. Besides, Man Pit is a ½ bedroom sized apartment, surely I can take care of it myself. It is now apparent I can’t.

The other thing with living on your own is that you don’t have to impress anyone or keep anyone else happy. So for me its fine to use my hotplates as the garbage bag holder – they certainly aren’t used for anything else. I only get concerned about the inch thick dog hair on the floor when I know I’m having guests. Not sure what the colour of the bathroom sink is meant to be.

Holy hell, I am revolting.

Too make matters worse I have both sons staying with me at the moment and Jackson is a terror. It is he who would have pulled the rubbish down, just like it was him who tore my pantry apart a week ago. My little Sammy is too small to do both which is why he is the perfect Man Pit housemate. Hurry home Other Daddy so you can have Jackson back at your place. Jackson, I love you, but two dogs and one slovenly dog-owner is too much for Man Pit!

It’s tough being a single parent with two kids.

Sadly, I can't blame my car on the boys, that ones all me. Especially the McDonalds wrappers.

I think I need to start looking for a boyfriend/cleaner.

Once upon a time there was a little boy...

Once upon a time there was a little boy who felt he had a lot to say. He talked a lot, he tweeted a lot, he was an opinionated little son-of-a-bitch and forced his stories on anyone who would listen.

But still he felt there was more he could say.

He knew of two magnificent princesses (or two ugly step-sisters depending on the day of the week) who called themselves Bloggers. They typed and typed and said even more than you could in a Tweet. The little boy thought they were amazing and that they were really cool. He decided that when he grew up he wanted to be just like his princesses Woogsworld and JoThornely.

“How do I become a Blogger? How do I become a Blogger?” squeaked the little boy at the princesses.

“Easy you dumb little shit, you just write it you fool! Now never interrupt us again when we are drinking!” said the now ugly step-sisters.

Woogsworld and JoThornely

Off the little boy went and started a blog. He decided to call it St. Murphy. This was kind of like his name but what he really liked about it was that it suggestested he was a Saint. Just like Mary McKillop. The irony is that nothing could be further from the truth. He’s a dirty, naughty, horny little boy who gets himself into trouble all the time, he just pretends he’s a Saint.

So type the little boy did. He typed some dumb stuff, some funny stuff, lots of gay-boy stuff, and he told the never-ending story of when he broke-up with his little-boy-boyfriend. The little boy found that he had more stories to tell then even he thought. He could write about anything he wanted it, anything at all, and he loved it! Before he knew it was hooked liked a gremlin-drug-addict and spending most of his nights on his couch in his little home, Man Pit, bashing out some stories for St. Murphy.

Then something strange started to happen to the little boy. And no, we are not talking about how his bush grew. He started to meet some other Bloggers. Bloggers are like these weird wonderful creatures who live deep in the forest in a magical online world. It turns out Bloggers are incredibly funny, warm, generous, giving, authentic, genuine people (and not at all like the two princess/ugly step-sisters) who the little boy loved, loved, loved to meet.

Suddenly there was exciting news! All the Bloggers were getting together for a giant, fabulous, exciting Ball where everyone could play together all weekend; it was called Blogopolis. The little boy got so excited that he bought his ticket and booked his fairy-flight straight away. He even had some business cards made cause thats what the cool-kid Bloggers all do. He counted down the days with his new Blogger friends and before he knew it the big weekend had arrived.

But right at the last minute the little boy had a panic attack!

“I’m not a blogger? Why do I think I’m a Blogger? I’ve been doing this for a minute, I’m not going to fit in at all!” See, the little boy was not used to having a crisis-of-confidence, he was normally a very arrogant little fucker. But this was a whole new, exciting world filled with gorgeous, smart people.

“Damn it,” the little boy said, “I’m going to have to fake it! Just like I do with the two princess/ugly step-sisters!”

So faking it he is. Today the little boy is off to the fabulous Blogger Ball called Blogopolis and he will be faking it every step of the way. All the little boy hopes for is that at the end of the night the beautiful Queen Fairies, StylingYou and Edenland, pop him in a fairy-cab before he turns into a cucumber.

And that he finally learns what it means to be a Blogger!

Now read their blogs, you will love them like I do...

Woogsworld

JoThornely

SylingYou

Edenland

Stay tuned for next installment of this Fairytale on Monday…

Just a table for 1 thanks.

I’m having a lot of trouble writing this. This is the fourth time I’ve started this post. Normally this blogging thing comes quite easily to me but this one has been a real struggle.

I absolutely loved my little holiday in Bangkok, loved it so much it’s hard to put into words. I know why I loved it but its kinda tough sharing. It was momentous on a quite a personal level (yes, I know how wanky that sounds...). It’s not just the city itself, which is truly amazing, but for me I made two huge breakthroughs, which has left me on top of the world.

Without really knowing it was weighing heavily on me, I realised while I was away that I am going to be absolutely fine on my own. It’s only been a few months since ‘the break-up’ and I thought I had been doing really well. But I arrived in Bangers and had a bit of a meltdown the first few days…

“What the fuck have I done? Why did I think I could do things like this on my own?”

This culminated in me waking up on my birthday filled with absolute dread that I was spending the day on my own and the only conversations I would have would be with shop assistants and waiters.

Thankfully I checked in on Facebook and Twitter which made me feel so special – thank god for social media. Then I got all depressed again that I was so far from home and alone on my birthday, which ironically was actually the whole purpose of the trip.

“What the fuck were you thinking Steven? Why did you think you were up for this?”

Bolstered by the b’day messages the day turned out to be very cool and for the first time I did a Table for 1 restaurant booking. (By the end of the week I was very, very good at this! In fact I did it every remaining night.) Got myself suitably drunk for my b’day while trying to decide if I should go out to celebrate - did my head in on this one. Eventually fell asleep watching bad American sitcoms.

Woke up next day and was stupidly sad. Nothing worse than an empty king size bed when you are feeling sorry for yourself. Then still not sure from where, I got it in my head that if I’m going to be on my own than I really need to be ON MY OWN. For the last few months Twitter, Facebook and this blog have been my crutch to get me through. You are never alone when you are on social media. All those nights I’d spent physically alone at Man Pit I was surrounded by friends online. I needed to stop using my crutch. A self-imposed social media ban was the answer! Strangest thing, as soon as I made this decision my holiday became even more of a beautiful, wonderful thing.

I got high on feeling so independent and in control, and from feeling happy just being with me. I think this was the first time in a very long time.

“I can do this and I can have a fabulous time on my own.”

I suddenly felt so empowered. I also finally understood that I could do exactly what I wanted when I wanted which was very cool. More importantly, I also stopped feeling like I should be doing things just because I could or should – my second breakthrough! Just because you are on holidays doesn’t mean you need to cram it full of experiences. Even though you have an idea or plan in your head, if it’s not what you feel like doing than you shouldn't feel you have to. This has been a problem for me my whole life and it’s usually when I get myself into trouble. Hopefully not anymore.

So besides the amazing shopping, the beautiful food and the gorgeous people; Bangkok was so special because I feel it gave me more control of my life than I have ever had before. I feel very grown-up. I have a smile from ear to ear. I would never have guessed that being alone could do that. I feel like a light has been turned on in my head. After being surrounded by people and relationships my entire adult life you can hopefully understand why this is momentous for me. It’s certainly not a re-invention of the wheel, many will think me ridiculous, but for my personal experience this is a huge breakthrough.

“I am going to be absolutely fine on my own.”

** First person I spoke to about all this shit was my Ex. He's a good man. If anyone was going to understand it was him, and of course he got it completely.





** This one's all for me today so I've turned off the comments section. xoxo

Strangely not lonely being alone.

Pretty dumb headline now I think about it. What I’m trying to say is that even though I am now alone and spend a lot of time on my own, I’m liking that I don’t feel lonely. A couple of months ago I really thought that I would.

But of course that is too long for a headline.

It’s one of those realisations that just crept up and SLAP. I’m quietly pleased. When I first moved in to Man Pit in March it was the first time since ’98 that I had lived on my own. Also, it was the end of a 6 year relationship so of course I was nervous about how I would handle it. Now a few months in its time to reflect and analyse, see how what’s gone on with the benefit of hindsight. And I think my apartment tells the story…

I think for the first few weeks I was obsessive about my new place, Man Pit. Obsessive! Every detail. I went to Moore Park Supa Centre about 12 times, as well as heaps of other furniture places, as I fitted it out in a finely tuned dance of seek-assess-plan-compare-purchase. So happy with everything I got that I treated my new home like a museum. And rarely left it. For those first few weeks I was very busy keeping it pristine and getting to know myself within it. Seems a little bit psychotic now, but I guess getting to know Man Pit and my new stuff was like therapeutically getting to know my new bachelor-self.

I got to know the local area a little bit but on the whole I stayed within these four walls. Subsequently I developed a pizza and oven-food addiction. Then the pendulum swung completely the other way, it was a full 180 degree turn-around. I started to show off Man Pit to anyone who’d come over and I madly filled my diary. I wanted to be out & about and fabulously single. Booked in dinners, drinks and catch-ups so many nights. I’d got my confidence up and wanted to be a part of everything and anything. Now I had my new home sorted I could explore.

This lasted a while as I reconnected with the outside world. I stopped treating my home like a museum and it started to feel lived in. Dirty clothes piled up and dust gathered. Then without even realizing I slipped into the third and current phase. It’s home now! Man Pit feels lived in. I am so unbelievably comfortable here, with my own little routines, that I am actually completely contented. It can have shit everywhere, or be as clean as a whistle. I know the lights so well I change their effect depending on my mood. It’s a place that I can change the function of with a simple sliding of a door and depending what time of day it is. I love it. It has everything I want.

So in this current phase I’ve become a lazy, boring home-body. Given a choice I’ll always stay on my couch with my laptop and Foxtel remote, Little Sammy beside me. I’m especially bad on weeknights. Just realized I’ve spent every night at home this week. Weekends I’m a little more active but having said that I’m going into the long weekend with very little planned. Actually need to fix that so will get on the bat-phone. Still haven’t quite got the balance right obviously, even in phase three. Finding the right balance will be the goal of the upcoming fourth and I think possibly final phase.

To quote all great reality shows, it’s been a ‘journey’. Slowly getting my shit together. But very happy with where I am. The good news is that I am contented and happy to be on my own and living on my own. It’s not as scary as I thought it would be to be stuck in my own head so much. It’s been kinda cool actually. I’ve always known that ‘home’ is important to me, that I need an anchor. I need my stuff around me. Now I realise I’ve come to think of Man Pit as home.

Now if I can only get the balance right between home-body and society princess…

For Rent:..

Aschapelle and I need your help. One of the first things we decided when we broke up up was that we both wanted to keep our house together and nothing has changed on our dream run. We are still top of the class as far as break-ups go. Normally I am the pettiest man in the world but this time I seem to be getting it right. Now we are taking the next step. The time has come the time to put renters in to our old home.

Aschapelle has just bought his own new bachelor pad – a very glamorous inner-city apartment with amazing views.  Very excited and happy for him as long as I can house-sit. This now means that we need to find renters for our (…slipping into full real estate agent mode now!) gorgeous, ideally located, newly renovated, spacious 2 bedroom terrace in East Redfern.

If anyone is ever looking to do any sort of real estate stuff in the inner city there is only one agent you should use. Bresic Whitney! They are truly brilliant whether buying, selling or renting – and we’ve tested them on all fronts over the past couple of years. And they are all HOT which I think is very important in a real estate agent. No joke, it must be a hiring policy there. All Bresic Whitney peeps are very smart and extremely hot! So the guys and gals at Bresic Whitney are now showing our little home to potential tenants. 12.15pm today in fact.

One thing Aschappele and I never, ever agreed on was artwork. As you can see from the pic above, since I’ve moved out a few months ago Asch has gone crazy with big, dramatic pieces. Also check out the beautiful floorboards, they were part of our 2010 make-over. We now know that the white lounge was a mistake when you have two dirty dogs but it looks gorgeous in the pic. A closer inspection of the book shelf will show Asch’s obsession with Schapelle Corby and all stories about drug traffickers in SE Asia. Never quite understood that.

Speaking of the 2010 make-over... we also did the kitchen and the bathroom.

Renovating sounds so easy when you start out. The reality is that it is a truly huge pain in the ass. Thank god the final result was worth it but we were without a kitchen for about 6 weeks. I need to write a whole post on that actually and name names. Don’t always trust a name you know people *cough* Freedom, will save the rest of that story for another time. We cooked in the lounge or garden for all of that time. After our experience last year I will never, ever buy a place that isn’t exactly how I want it at purchase, its’ just not worth the grief. Anyways, lets move on...

My pic, not BW's as you can probably tell...

Our bathroom, more through good luck than good management, is our proudest achievement! We’ve both loved it from the moment it was finished. A miracle when you remember that when we chose the tiles we were both so hung-over we weren’t sure what we ordered 5 mins after leaving the store. The guy who did our bathroom was a true professional! Would recommend him in a heartbeat. It’s also very butch don’t you think?

Here’s the outside of our little place. Sits right on the edge of one of the most friendly and vibrant parks I’ve ever known. This is the park where the whole neighbourhood leaves their toys and THEY NEVER GET STOLEN! It is literally the heart of the whole community. I’ve written about it before, it is amazing that such parks exist. I’ve even done a Uni assignment on it, a visual research project, for which I got a HD (yep, a big plug for myself!).

Aschapelle and I bought this place so our children, Jackson and Sam, had a backyard to play in. A week after we moved in we realised that Jackson and Sam never left the lounge while we were at work and only went out the back if they needed to piss or shit. That’s a lot of money to spend on a toilet. Having said that, Aschappelle and I weren’t much better. Why would you use the back garden when you have a whole park next door?

Upstairs are two decent sized bedrooms, or as we used them, a big master bedroom and a parlour/dressing room. Two gay boys can accumulate a lot of clothes so a whole room was required. The master bedroom has a balcony, but again, we never used it. Not sure why, but probably because I’m not a smoker when Aschapelle is around. Our neighbours are the most divine people you’ll ever meet, everyone in the street is just so lovely. There is even a smattering of A-List celebs but I won’t give out their names/addresses.

So in a nutshell… We’ve absolutely loved living here. LOVED IT!!! And that’s not just the real estate sell, we truly have. I’m ignoring the pang of sadness that it is no longer our home and focusing on Man Pit and Aschapelles fabulous new place. Only requirement of our new tenants is that they take good care of it. If you wanted to turn the second bedroom into a S&M dungeon that is absolutely fine as long as you don’t chip the paint or stain the floorboards. One day this place will allow me to buy a place of my own so pristine care needs to be taken. As much as I am loving Man Pit at the moment, one day I want to again live in a place I own.

Spread the word peeps, spread the word! Go along to the open house and marvel at what two inexperienced renovators can do while they are hung-over. Admire the giant artworks on the wall. Pose in the bathroom mirror that has on so many mornings produced my fabulous quiff. Feel the kitchen bench that has never felt my touch. Slide across the floorboards just as Jackson does. But always be sure to stay very balanced on the staircase so you don’t take a dramatic tumble like poor little Sammy did.

But most importantly… Make us an offer!

** WE HAVE OUR FIRST OPEN HOUSE TODAY, SATURDAY, JUNE 4 AT 12.15PM. Details here...

Bresic Whitney Listing here

Domain Listing here

Just stick it in the oven!

So have you ever noticed how bad habits can grip you very quickly?

Happens to me all the time!

The latest bad habit to take control at Man Pit is OVEN FOOD! Oven food of any high-caloried description, as long as all I have to do is stick it in and set a timer.

My oven has an angelic glow!

Some back-story first! For the past six years my delightful partner Aschapelle (artist formerly known as Boyfriend than exBoyfriend now Aschapelle) did all the cooking of the evening meals. Now I am living in the city’s most glamorous of bachelor pads, Man Pit, I am having to fend for myself. It ain’t going so well. I hate cooking, I have no skill at it, and I certainly have no flair for it. Colonel Sanders is my all-time favourite chef. That says it all really.

Also, the first time I cooked at Man Pit I embarrassingly set off the fire alarm. It's left me scared to use the fry pan. So much safer to stick things in the oven.  So simple – set the temp, set the timer on the iPhone – dinner is ready! Let me take you through a few of my favourite things, or 80% of my evening meals this past few months…

My personal favourite is the Sargent’s Angus Beef pies – the absolute best $4 you can ever spend.

Second most regular go-to item in my freezer is the Birdseye fish fillets which I have loved for a very, very long time. Especially the herb & garlic.

A recent addition to my scintillating oven repertoire is the mini Chicken Kiev’s, so much joy in such a little bundle.

And the piece–de-resistance is my Party favourite – the Puffy Dogs! Mini frankfurters wrapped in pastry. Delightful!

But after a lovely, lovely dinner with a group of friends this week I’ve learnt the error of my ways. Apparently it is quite easy to cook healthy, easy meals for one – who would’ve thought! Julie McCoy was particularly helpful, she is a genius in many capacities. She gave me two brilliant recipes. One is a simple as mixed salad greens, olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Even I can’t go wrong with that surely. So I gave it a shot, judge for yourself…

The bowl of fruit is purely decorative.

I even tossed it with my own hands. An absolute first for me!

And yes, I did the steak under the grill cause I am still too scared to use the fry pan. Hey, you don’t become Jamie Oliver overnight. Working myself up to that.

Little Sammy likes to watch me eat steak.

But I’m feeling just a little proud tonight that I’ve at least mastered a salad – it was DELICIOUS! That’s a big step forward for me and huge inroads to Bachelorhood.

This is certainly going to make more room in my freezer for vodka and ice-cream.

Special thank you to my all-time favourite travel agent Julie McCoy for sharing her knowledge of food!