Dr Douglas Winchcombe was a dreamer. He was last seen on planet Earth on the 29th of August 2018. Some considered him a genius – one of the finest scientific minds in Australia, if not the world, though he’d published remarkably few papers. Others considered him a clueless nerd, totally devoid of social skills, a caricature of the absent-minded professor. Most people didn’t consider him at all. But on Eden, despite his reluctance, he was practically God.

My name is Nelson.  Nelson Eric Kidman.  Nelson is the place I was conceived.  Eric is an uncle who drowned thirty-eight years before I was born and Kidman is the name of a grandfather I’ve never met.  He ran off when Dad was only a few days old.  That’s a hell of a lot of history for an eleven year old to carry around.

Have you ever noticed that jokes are always funny? Well, they’re meant to be. Why don’t we have sad jokes? I’m serious. There’s a standard format for all jokes: there’s a set-up – or story – then there’s the punch line – which is funny. Why don’t we have punch lines which are profound, poignant and a little sad?

Like, there’s an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman go into a bar and the barman says, ‘My father used to beat me. But abusive childhoods are quite common in the hospitality industry.’

It’s just an idea.

No, it’s really just another way to deflect attention from my life gurgling down the plug hole.

an excerpt from The Road Behind

“At the lights at Boundary Street, she moved to the front seat so I could massage her spine. I started at her neck. By Mona Vale Road, I’d reached the small of her back and was feeling a stirring in my loins. ‘That’s not too hard is it?’ I asked. She shook her head.
By Telegraph Road, I’d reached her coccyx and was headed for territory beyond the jurisdiction of the Chiropractic Society. My fingers slid between her buttocks as we turned off the Highway. She unzipped my fly and opened her mouth.
‘I always wondered why this road was called Bobbin Head,’ I said. She replied but I didn’t catch the words. I dropped her off, thinking maybe I’d gone too far – but it was only by a few metres.”
Excerpt from Going Places – THE BITS THAT DIDN’T FIT

On the way there, Alistair, the bass player, insisted we stop at a chemist. He came back with a 500ml brown glass bottle. He’d studied chemistry at university, so he knew all the best drugs. As soon as we got to the motel, he unscrewed the cap and a sickly smell filled the room.
‘It’s a funny drug, ether,’ he said, as we passed the bottle around and inhaled, almost to the point of blackout. ‘It has the effect of separating the hemispheres of the brain in such a way that you receive messages on one side, then about a second later get the same message on the other side.’
The news was on TV. I had the distinct feeling I’d seen this show before.”
Excerpt from Going Down – THE BITS THAT DIDN’T FIT

“It was an ugly concrete box, which I suddenly remembered Johnny Blob had told me had the worst acoustics in the Southern Hemisphere. ‘One, two. One, two.’ God that sounds awful. Sid and Alistair tried to tune the guitars. Alistair had forgotten to tell us that ether distorts your hearing. We couldn’t afford guitar tuners; we always did it by ear – normally a five-minute job – but in that place, in our state, almost impossible. Fifteen minutes later we seemed no closer. The crowd was getting aggressive, so was the owner of the club.
‘Its half past, for fucks sake. You were meant to start at eleven. God, what’s that stink?’
‘We’ll do Suicide first,’ I suggested. This song started with an A chord, played for sixty-four bars, before dropping to G. This would give the guys the chance to tune to each other as they played. The trouble was, none of us were capable of counting to sixty-four.
It was the worse set we’d ever done, and we had two more to go. I got us a couple of bottles of bourbon. I don’t know if that helped our playing but it helped us not to care. The crowd didn’t seem too disappointed. Shit, it was only Hamilton.”
Excerpt from Going Down – THE BITS THAT DIDN’T FIT

“…At around 9:30 I went to the toilet. Ever Fallen in Love? had just started – my all time favourite Buzzcocks song. I pushed the door open on the start of the fourth bar, zipped my fly down on the start of the first verse and let loose through the first verse and chorus. ‘Ever fallen in love,’ I sang along, spraying up and down the urinal. Luckily there was no one else there. There was a loud crash somewhere outside. I zipped myself up on the first bar of the [Read more…]

“…Johnny pulls over to the middle of the road to stop for a chuck. The hallucinations take the opportunity to crowd in – horses, cows and big fucking semi trailers. Blitz keeps him cool, no need to panic.

The kids pile out. Time for a piss. They join dad, lined up across the road, three standing, one squatting – a close family. [Read more…]

“…She took me by the hand, led me to the toilet and locked the door. ‘How do we do it?’ I whispered. ‘I thought you’d be the expert,’ she giggled, kicking her shoes off, wriggling out of her jeans then slipping her knickers off.

I got such a massive erection I could hardly get my button undone. She danced around me provocatively while I struggled to pull my jeans off over my shoes. She pushed me down onto the toilet and sat astride me, while I pushed one shoe, helplessly, against the other. [Read more…]