Spun

One of these days someone is going to have to explain the logic behind the idea that someone else's choice of spouse somehow delegitimises my marriage.

Let's face it. We're not living in the most comforting of times. Our economy exists at the whim of a despotic Chinese regime. Our government is inept and lacking anything even resembling fortitude- and the only alternative government is a morally bankrupt mishmash of douchebags and f-wits led by a fundy with a cockjock fixation. If the hippies are right, we're mere years away from being drowned by the rising oceans or burned to a crisp by the sun. And England's about to beat us in a home Ashes series.

Take a look around, folks. The world is kinda f-ed right now. And it doesn't look like it's getting much better anytime soon. The last thing in the world that I'm going to spend my time worrying about is whether some guy wants to marry pole or canyon.

The trouble I have with this whole issue is that I really don't understand why people are so f-ing worked up over it. Seriously- who the hell care who someone else wants to hook up with?

And don't give me that "sanctity of marriage" shit, either. People get married simply because the franger split and they can't afford child support. Strippers can marry octogenarians who happen to have an oil company and a Viagra prescription. People can get married because they won a f-ing reality show. People go to f-ing Vegas every single day to gamble and get sloshed, and wake up the next morning with a empty pockets, a venereal disease and a cheap gold-plated band around their finger. Even Judge f-ing Judy was allowed to marry, divorce and remarry the same guy.

All of this is perfectly legal, and with the exception of a few rolled eyes and a few tabloid headlines, nobody gives a stuff. Yet when a couple of gay guys decide to stand up in front of their people and make some promises, people lose their f-ing minds.

I just don't get it. My marriage is important to me, and nothing that anyone (other than myself and the bride, of course) does with their own lives will either validate or cheapen it. I'm secure in my relationship and I know that the only endorsement my marriage needs comes from the two of us.

Not for nothing, but if you think that homos getting the right to marry is capable of devaluing your own marriage, the only person diminishing the sanctity of your marriage is you.

Gettin' My Phoenix On

F--k it. Yeah, I'm writing on this (long dead) blog again. No, I don't expect that any of you will care in the slightest.

I suppose the done thing would be to play a little catch up. So, what's going on with me?

I'm still married, and still happily so. It'll be our fourth anniversary in a couple of weeks.

Remember Lauren? Yeah, well she turned two this past August. I know, right? Time just races along...

We now also have a baby son. Everton Richard Brooke was born on August 20 this year. We were told that we were going to have another girl, but apparently our ultrasound tech must have been huffing f-ing glue that day. When the kid popped out and the midwives exclaimed "it's a boy" I damn near fouled my trousers.

Well, shorts. Not trousers. I never wear f-ing trousers. I don't care if you judge me for this.

If you're curious, my son takes his first name from my closest friend who tragically passed away in 2003. His middle name is that of his paternal grandfather.

You remember that "why not be a professional photographer" pipedream I had a while back? Well, f--k me if it didn't all turn out pretty damn well. I've built up a decent commercial and editorial photography business, with my client list including some pretty major national and international companies, newspapers and magazines.

Trust me- I'm not quite sure how the f--k this all happened, either. But I love what I do, I get paid very well to do it, and I have happy clients. In the words of a particularly nerdy pop singer of yore, who am I to blow against the wind?

I've also started teaching photography, which I enjoy more than I ever thought I would. It's also a nice little side earner, just quietly.

I may have mentioned previously that I lived in a hot, dusty shithole in the north of WA. It's still f-ing hot. It's still f-ing dusty. It still sucks big ol' donkey balls. But this town has given us a chance of a pretty cool future, so I can't hate too much.

We'll be out of here before July 2013. Trust me when I say that we're counting down the days.

I've still been keeping an eye on all of you. Of course, most of you have all given up on the blogging thing for the most part, which makes this rather easy.

Be good. Later.