Sexual consultation…

A lovely, helpful lady from the tax department rang me today at work - see the previous blog - Monday's - about my email to them about getting a gigolo/male escort for research reasons. She confirmed to me this was not the oddest question they had ever had and she didn't find it strange at all. I used to work for the government. I know what weird crap they deal with. You have to be pretty broadminded to deal with the public in any official capacity. Anyway she explained there was a form to fill out and send back and the tax office would make a ruling about the male escort as a “consultant” thing for a writer. You know you can do almost anything in life as long as you have the right form. We chatted on what I would use his knowledge for. I believe I made her day.

So that was fun and somewhat disappointing I did not freak the tax department out but I’ll work on that. I’m almost positive I can confuse them. Second highlight of the day – I ordered a 2010 Queensland Firefighters Calendar last week – for charitable reasons of course - and I had been waiting for it to arrive in the mail. I wanted it yesterday as I had endured a crapacious day and I felt looking at lovely ‘quiet’ male bodies would be soothing to the soul - but it didn’t arrive. Bugger. I almost got back into the car yesterday to drive around to the local fire station and demand they take off their shirts but occasionally I can be rational and voila – the calendar was awaiting me when I got home today. Niiiiice….or Noice – in Aussie speak.

May your day be as interesting…

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It just depends I guess...

I was chatting, via email, to two work colleagues in another office. It was 3pm and we all left at 4pm and everyone knows working an hour before knock off can give you a headache or an arm cramp or something really annoying that would slow you up getting out the door. So, I was chatting to them about the latest Queensland Firefighter Calendar 2010 that I am going to buy…for charitable reasons of course. Anyway the talk went from half naked men to men in general and how dumb some of them are and that to marry an old, rich bloke was a good idea as you’d have less to put up with. I didn’t agree with that because if you are marrying purely for money – young or old - you would want a contract of what you will and will not do for those dollars. Marrying for money, without any practical thought, would be a minefield.

Yes, I know, I write romance books but I am fully aware that there are people who marry intentionally for big bucks and that’s their choice. Me? No. I don’t see the point of marriage rich or poor. It’s so final. Yes, I have commitment issues. But, in saying that, I have enough business sense to know any arrangement that is built on a foundation of want and need and particularly no love requires legal tying up. So, we chatted about what we would and wouldn’t have in a marriage contract with said rich, old man. How often, if at all sex would be required, monthly allowance, what real estate property automatically became ours on tying the knot, how often we would have to actually talk to them, no cooking or cleaning etc. Yes, I know it’s not romantic but it’s quite interesting hearing what others would, in a business sense, require of such a marriage. Sex is clearly not a requirement. Poor rich guy.

There are women out there who would love to be in love. They deserve to be in love and to find the one. I wish that for them. Others though have dreams of wealth and the easy life and I can’t fault that. It’s hard, practical and in many ways sensible. Love is great. Money is great. I say do what you have to in order to be happy…but whichever it is get it in writing. No, it’s not romantic but neither is divorce and you have to look after your own arse.

One of my all time fave Marilyn moments… I must admit I like diamonds…



www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book