Taff Down Under 21
Xmas comes but once a year, and thank fuck for that.
But before I rabbit on about Xmas, here’s one of those things that could only happen when I’m around.
I was at Coles our local supermarket, with a trolley full of the weeks shopping. I noticed a queue with only one person in it, a little old lady who was just about to load her shopping onto the conveyer, so I stood behind her. Bad move.
At the till was a young lass called Bethy who we’ve had many chats with since our Bethy noticed they share a name. The old lady pushed her trolley into the isle ahead of her, and proceeded to load the conveyer. One item at a time. Yup, just one, and she had a full trolley. Not only did she do this, but also each time she reached over to get one more item, she budged the trolley forwards an inch. By the time she’d got twenty or so items out she had to walk back to the conveyor to put them on. Just to make it even more slow, she walked to the end of the conveyor, the now empty conveyor, before putting it on.
I was holding my tongue, biting it in fact, so as not to interfere. I was just about to offer to help, as this could have gone on the whole weekend, when I made a fatal mistake.
I caught Bethy’s eye.
We grinned, grins widened. Within seconds we were both on the verge of pissing ourselves. Anyway, the old bird eventually got her shopping on, and, more due to the fact that they bag your groceries here than anything on her part, was on her way. Me and Bethy waited till she was a respectable distance away before bursting into floods of laughter.
Fun, fun, fun, eh?
And so to Xmas.
Chas Kingman, who some of you know and loathe, was coming over to spend Xmas and New Year in Oz with us. We’d booked the house down at the coast, the one we spent last Xmas in, for Xmas week. Chas didn’t arrive until the Tuesday of that week, so Lee Anne, Bethy, Tiger, Mary, and Mary’s dog Chibby rather than waste good holiday time at home, went off on the Saturday. This left me and Barnum at home, alone, for three days. I’d booked to work the Monday, to save a days holiday for when Chas was here. So here was I with three days to spend as I wished. Nice eh?
As it turned out, nope it wasn’t.
Me and Lee Anne hadn’t spent more than one evening apart since I got here. I entertained myself. I worked some new tracks for my next CD*, I watched sport, chatted with mates in the US on the net, got pissed as a fart, all the usual things. And was as lonely as fuck.
The dog did his best to help of course, tried licking me, getting into bed with me etc. But he’s far to hairy arsed for my tastes. And so I spent a sad few days alone. Strange eh? I’d lived on my own for three years before moving out here, and got to enjoy my own company. But now, two days alone and I’m climbing the walls.
Anyway. Early on the Tuesday morning I set off with the mutt, who was now looking rejected, to drive to Sydney. I tried to time it so I had little time to wait before Chas cleared customs. I didn’t fancy paying the twenty bucks parking fee I’d paid when picking up Mark & Jenny. I wasn’t far out either. He’d only been waiting outside for twenty minutes before I got there.
On the way down the coast road, Chas looked fairly knackered but was full of chat and good humour. The dog was resenting him already, giving me those "what’s he got that I ain’t," looks. Driving off just after we stopped for lunch, after returning to the café where I left my wallet and car keys, I think they still have my sunnies, we heard a high pitch whine. Wanting to show off my local knowledge to Chas I chipped up;
Me: "Hear the cicadas mate? Best get used to them."
Him: "What you on about you Welsh git?"
Me: "That high-pitched whine, it’s the mating noise of those cicada insects, get them a lot around here, very noisy."
Him: "You’re off your head, it’s the gearbox of that big van in front of us."
A few miles down the road van turns left, the noise though continues, and in places gets louder.
Me: "Bugger eh? Get rid of the van and its gearbox must be following us."
Well at the place we were staying the noise continues for the whole time we are there. Lee Anne relates stories of how the noise can get so bad you cannot sleep, and I drop the words "van" and "gear box" in the conversation as often as possible. J
That night after Chas had done the whole hugs and kisses routine with the family, and we’d eaten, we were all winding down watching a bit of box. Lee Anne nudges me and points over to Chas. He was standing in the kitchen holding a mug of beer, fast asleep on his feet.
The next day after a good 12 hours kip the bugger gets up without a trace of jet-lag, any wonder I hate him?
The next day, Xmas Eve, was spent on the beach sunbathing and shopping for last minute bits and bobs. That night there was a local fair on, and Lee Anne promised to take Bethy to it. Me and Chas were going to use that excuse to go to the local boozer and get hammered. A simple plan you may think?
Just as we were preparing to go out, the dog and Chas having been walked, the old mutt starts coughing like a 90 a day smoker. Barnum that is, not Chas. "Sounds bad" says Lee Anne, who then notices a lump in his throat. Thinking he’d swallowed something that wouldn’t go down, we all have a turn at forcing our arms down his throat, I think Bethy won on depth. Not a sausage, and the coughing got worse.
"Have to be the vet for him," says Lee Anne.
After hours? On Xmas eve? A call out? Can’t I just give his neck a quick twist and bury him at low tide instead?
So a vet was contacted. He agreed to forego his only chance to share a meal with his family over Xmas, to call in all his associates, nurse, dog handlers, drinking mates and anyone else he knew, and to open up his surgery.
We met him at his place, he hummed and hawwed, decided to do an endoscopy, or something that would cost lots and sound impressive, and told us to call back in a few hours. To be fair to him, as I haven’t been so far, he was an absolute darling, and treated us and the dog very well. The upshot of it was that the mutt had scarring on his throat lining from either an insect bite or eating something too sharp, so he was given some anti-biotics and sent back with us. At this point I was $350.00 more in debt. I hadn’t had the heart to ask how much cheaper a "painless final shot" would have cost.
Xmas day was great fun. We all exchanged gifts in the morning. Bethy did her usual stunt of opening hers, looking at all the expensive gifts, and then spending the morning playing with a $2.00 balloon making kit. Chas had made the ladies a stained glass mirror each, though it took me some time to convince them he’d made them himself. If you’ve ever met him you wouldn’t be asking "why?"
They loved these, they were also amazed to find they’d got over on the plane in one piece.
The lovely man had also brought me a bottle of duty free Laphroaig, and more "Safeways Own Brand Assam Loose Leaf Tea," which I think I may have mentioned in passing before? J
We had a barbie for lunch, and lovely it was too.
[Edit Lee Anne:] A Barbie for lunch? I ask you! I prepared two different sorts of pies. One vegetarian consisting of spinach, mushrooms, semi-dried tomotoes, toasted pine nuts and blue vein cheese. The others were scallop pies for the fish eaters. These consisted of whole, beautifully fresh, scallops, leek, touch of curry and cheese. I accompanied this with prawn kebabs for the fish eaters (These WERE barbequed, as were the oven roasted potatoes. Well, I had to. I didn’t have an oven.) I matched up all the hot food with three complimentary salads. Couscous, chick peas, corriander and cumin. Potato salad with celery, shallots and toasted pine nuts tossed in tatski dip. Corn salsa with corn obviously, tiny tomatos chopped, freshly chopped corriander and lemon juice. We finished with a great pud from my Mum too. Pfft … we had a barbie!)
The afternoon of Xmas day was spent on a beach, Bethy and Chas having a swim. I actually braved going in over my knees, those of you who know me well will know what a rare event this is. I was picked up and dumped face down in the sand by a big wave for my trouble. I nearly drowned in six inches of water, honest. So it’s possible that I won’t be going in the sea for another twenty odd years again.
On boxing days of yore me and Chas have done a big stomp, so why not this year? We bought a book of local hikes, and settled on a longish route into the depths of a gum forrest. We set off early, but as we drove for miles along a dirt track the weather closed in. As the car we were in was getting a fair hammering, we decided to do an easier route that wouldn’t involve cross country rallying. So we did Pigeon House mountain.
http://www.southcoast.com.au/pigeonhouse/
Some of you may remember this as the mountain Bethy, Lee Anne and I did on a previous visit to the coast.
So we stomped up this, the view from the top was pure cloud, but it’s a good walk. Then we went down to the coast and looked bout the midden where I met the "diamond back python" on my last visit. He wasn’t there, but several million flys were, they made a feast of us. Just to wrap up the days walking, we climbed Durras mountian.
http://www.joalah.com.au/bushwalks/durras-mountain.html
Description: A steep climb but worth the effort as there are beautiful views along the NSW South Coast once you reach the top.
No there aren’t, there’s just more cloud. I highly recommend not doing this one if you have the chance.
Anyway, we got back, tried and happy, and ready for the beers, only to get a ticking off from Lee Anne for not telling her about changing our route.
We drove back to Canberra the next day, me enthusing to Chas all the way about the wonderfulness of the wide open Ozzie countryside, and to be fair to him he didn’t disagree. We stopped off in Braidwood to get a loaf and some pasties from my favourite bakers. The dog managed to disgrace himself by shitting on the high street pavement. We pantomimed looking for a way to clean it up until all the witnesses had passed, then legged it.
We got back to Canberra. We dumped the stuff, showed Chas where the bog and bathroom were, then me and him drove into the city to pick up another guest.
This was a lad called Dan, who me and Lee Anne know from the website we use for debate.
Dan has now got his own site of this nature, it’s more light hearted than the cybersoapbox,you can find it here.
http://www.e-penguin.uh-hosting.co.uk/~dan/forum/
He’s just finished his degree, and was doing the world tour thing, so we thought it would be good to offer him our hospitality for a while. Me and Chas got to the bus station on time, and Chas asked "What’s he look like?"
Good question, all I’d seen of him were some dodgy photo’s on his website. Anyway, after watching several busses unload what seemed like an endless stream of disturbed looking youths (Dan’s only 21) I was getting a bit concerned.
We were wondering if we’d got the time, or maybe even the day wrong, when I spotted a youth with a didgereedoo. Ah ha! Dan had said he’d bought one. So we went over and I introduced myself in that loud Welsh and forthright way I do. Fortunately it was him, so I wasn’t arrested or sectioned. I took them on a drive around Canberra, to give them a quick preview of the place. Unfortunately I got lost, so all they saw was the best of the bypasses.
So the next day, Lee Anne acted as our guide, and we showed them around all the famous Canberra sites. I won’t bore you with them, if you get these mails you’ll know all the usual suspects by now.
And just as typically, the next day we took them to Tidbinbilla for a barbie in the woods.
http://www.environment.act.gov.au/bushparksandreserves/tidbinbilla.html
That night, as Dan was off to Sydney the next day, I decide to take them to my favourite pubs in Canberra. Our mate Albert, who also knows Dan from the net, came along to. And Canberra was shut. The whole fucking city was shut. Lee Anne had warned me about this, most people still being down the coast for that time of year it really wasn’t worth the pubs and clubs opening. But bugger me it was odd!
So we went back to our place, via a drive in offy which had the decency to be open. I then, to drown my sorrows you understand, got mercilessly pissed. Dan, foolishly, later claimed on his website to have out-drunk me. I soon put him right on this subject. J
Dan went off the next day, and me and Chas drove off to climb Mount Kosciusko, Oz’s highest mountain.
http://www.peakware.com/encyclopedia/peaks/kosciusko.htm
It’s only a couple of hours drive from Canberra, it’s the place we went skiing last year. It was odd driving through what I had only known as snow filled mountains, accessable only by snow tube and chair-lift, which were now sunburnt bush.
We parked up and headed, along with hundreds of others, off up the trail. To say it was a piece of piss to walk would be an understatement, we got up it in an hour and a half. We got within a hundred yards of the top, and noticed two very attractive young ladies by the side of the trail fiddling with a camera. Being gentlemen, (ok, being two horny old buggers,) we offered to take a picture of the pair of them together. "Jeez, would you believe it," said one of them, "we’ve only gone and forgotten to put film in the bloody camera."
Chas, of course, just happened to have two spare rolls of film in his pack. He gave one to them, saying "here you go, merry Xmas from the UK." They were ever so pleased, and shot off a few pictures. We pushed on to the top.
They followed a bit later and sat down to share lunch with us. I noticed that one of them had a wedding ring on. The other, a startlingly attractive redhead, wearing a red mini skirt and loose blouse, didn’t. We swapped tales and info, and got on like a house on fire. They were from Sydney. Funnily enough we were going to Sydney for New Years Eve.
Eventually we set off back down. I started berating Chas for not getting Kylie’s, (yes that really was the redheads name,) telephone number for when he was up in Sydney. After a few yards of this I got him to wait at the junction of the paths, we were taking the long scenic route down. They followed shortly after. Chas did actually ask for, and received her telephone number. My god, there’s hope for the man yet!
The rest of the walk down the conversation was shared equally between rapsodising about the wonderful veiws, snowball fighting in the snow patches that were still about, and rapsodising about the wonderful body of Kylie.
We got back to the car, drove back to Canbera, stopping off for a meal at Cooma.
The next day we set about packing for spending the next three days in Sydney. Chas was leaving us to go off travelling on his own after Sydney, so he was packing his whole kit up. "um, Taff, you seen my bum bag?" he asked. I hadn’t.
So we started one of those searches, you know the type, the sort that gets more and more ridiculous. We even ended up turning out the shed.
"What’s it got in it Chas?" I foolishly asked. "Oh you know, my passport, money, visa cards, flight tickets, nothing much." The search got more frantic. We even phoned the police at Cooma, the last place he had seen it, to ask if it had been handed in, it hadn’t. We were now at the "searching in the places you just searched three times, just in case," stage. I swear Chas was looking white by now, he was probably envisioning having to spend even more time with us.
He stopped, as if caught in religious rapture. "Have you got the car keys?" heasked. "All three of us have searched the car at least twice each mate." We had, I’d even had the spare wheel out. "Give me the keys, please?"
It was in the glove box. Well, who’d have thought of looking there?
So we drove up to Sydney. No matter how many times I go to Sydney I’m always gobsmaked by the bloody size of the place. The suburbs start an hour outside of it, and go on, and on, and on. I’m sure by international standards it’s not even a big city, but there you go, I’m just a hick from a small Welsh slum.
We had booked into our favourite cheap motel, the Wesley Lodge Motor Inn.
http://www.sydney-syd.com/97247.html
We spent a day doing the obvious grockle things, the bridge the harbour and all that stuff. That night Lee Anne kindly offered to take Bethy back to the hotel so we could go up the Cross. It was every bit as manic as usual. We were acosted three times by touts wanting us to come and see "beautiful girls, all naked", but declined.
Three times very nice young ladies asked us if we’d care to have sex with them, one of them was heartbreakingly young and pretty. Chas point blank refused to hold my hand and pretend we were gay. Gay fellas get a lot less hastle there, but I think Chas was considering sloping off with one of the nice ladies. We did eventually get a seat in my favourite pub window, and watched the world pass. Chas even managed to keep his eyeballs in his head for most of it.
I made the mistake of crashing in Chas’s room when we got back, completely forgetting Lee Anne had told me to knock her awake and sleep in there. We got a phone call at 3.00am to remind us.
That day we did Manly beach for a gape and a gawp.
http://members.ozemail.com.au/~russo/
The night, New Years Eve, we spent down on Circular Quay…
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay,
I looked at the place where me legs used to be,
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me,
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
But the band played "Waltzing Matilda,"
As they carried us down the gangway,
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared,
Then they turned all their faces away.
Oops sorry, always happens that does. Here are all the lyrics of that poignant anti-war song, very apt at the mo…
http://www.fortunecity.com/tinpan/parton/2/matilda.html
Anyway, Lee Anne and Bethy only stayed for the 9.00 p.m. fireworks. Me and Chas got slowly slaughtered on the expensive beers they were selling there, and the cheap vodka I’d sneaked in. The fireworks were wonderful; the laser light show that had been hyped to the hilt much less so. Go here to see for yourselves.
http://www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/sites/nye/ImageGallery/default.html
There were so many people at the quay that it took us two hours and a whole bottle of vodka before we could get a train back to the hotel. Mind you having trains running at 2.30 am on New Years Eve says a lot about how well organised they are there.
The following day, me and Chas were due to do a walk on Sydney’s Bondi beach. I was having a bit of gip from my ankle; it was trying to tell me I’d been doing too much on it of late. Either that or I’d twisted it while pissed the night before. So after having a bite to eat, and ogling the high quality totty sunbathing on the beach, Chas went off on his own, while I had a damn good mope and a letch.
That evening me and Chas took a train into the city centre, and spent an enjoyable evening in an Irish pub in the "rocks" area. It was good to give him a send off proper, and the whole world was put too right over many jars of ale.
Well we said our good-byes to Chas the next day. It had been wonderful having him over, but he wanted to go off and tour himself, and who can blame him? He shot off a huge quantity of film while he was here, promising to send me copies on CD after he got them developed. Knowing Chas and the speed he gets his films done, that’ll be sometime around Xmas 2009.
Dan came back to our place for a few days, one of which just happened to be my birthday. We treated him to a meal at our favourite restaurant, he’s a vege too.
http://www.kingsland.canberra.net.au/
"I can't believe it's not meat!" Is an often heard exclamation at Kingsland,
A vegan restaurant in Canberra's China Town district that is wowing both vegetarians and carnivores alike. Kingsland's amazing menu includes wholly original creations as well as many vegan versions of favourite meat based Asian dishes (such as Beef and Black Bean and Mongolian Lamb).
He found the whole experience slightly odd. Good, that’s just how it should be. J
The next day he borrowed one of our cars and shot off to have a crack at climbing Mount Kosciusko himself. He got half way up and was just about decided to give up the ghost as the cloud was down and giving zero visibilty, when he came across a ranger in her four wheel drive. He then managed to blag a lift off her to the top. Jammy bugger!
I phoned Chas to see how he was getting on on his travels. "Hello Isabel!" he answered. Isabel? Yup, the old dog had only gone and scored again. French bird this time. And he was trying to convince me she was even more tasty than Kylie.
Bollocks Kingman!
The next night me and Dan headed off to the local climbing wall. Neil my mate from next door was going to come, but had the mother of all hangovers, so he didn’t. Dan soon set about pissing up every climb on the wall, including those me and Neil had spent months working out. I was fair cheesed off with him at this point, until he said he had to stop climbing as his hands were sore. Heh..serve him right the soft English poof.
He shot off the next day, with NZ and the States on his itinery. Lucky sod.
Some pictures from our Xmas can be found online here;
http://community.webshots.com/album/109703375JUfDZh
I got an digital Camera from Lee Anne and Bethy for my birthday, so be prepared to be swamped with boring bloody images of Oz!
My contract for my job runs out at the end of January, so about mid December I started looking for new work. They were asking me to stay on where I was, but I’m bored of hospital work. Nothing changes there, and the staff and clients are both as institutionalised as each other.
I saw a group of mental health posts advertised in the online jobs bulletain we get through work. One or two of them sounded good, so I put in a general application for them. It’s a sod when you have to do that, I’d have prefered to apply for individual posts. Anyway. Mid January arrived, and no response from them. Oh dear.
I was starting to get a bit worried, looking in the "sits vac" columns and all that. I got a phone call from "human resources", why they can’t just be "personel" anymore beats the crap out of me. The chain of events that followed was so stupid, I wrote it up for the online form we use, this is compiled directly from there;
OK, so Human Resources ring up and offer me a job, with no interview or prior contact, and ask me if I accept it. A post I know next to fuck all about. I say I want info about it, to discuss it with the wife, and to talk to someone in the team first.
They give me a number and a name to ring. I ring the number and talk to the name.
She says, "I’m not the team leader, I have no idea who you are or what you are talking about. Talk to Joe bloke when he returns on Weds."
I ring up Human Resources
Ok, the person you put me in touch with knows fuck all about the job, or you offering it to me, and isn’t the person in charge of the team." The reply? "Oh well she’s supposed to be acting team leader, and I hadn't told her about the job or the offering it to you, so it's no wonder she didn't know." (Said in a voice that implied it was my fault, and I was an idiot for thinking otherwise.)
The she says: "I’ll e-mail you some details on the post. Can I take it you’re accepting the post?" "Erm…not until I know what the fucking job is. You know, little details like working hours, pay and conditions, that sort of thing?"
Just got an e-mail off human resources. Tells me everything about the team.
Except…
My pay
My hours
My holidays
My work conditions
My benefits.
The job sounds right up my street, an intensive treatment team, working with severely mentally ill clients in the community, with the aim of reducing hospital admission. Lots of hard work, lots of responsibility, lots of stress, by very rewarding.
I'd like to know what hours / shifts I am expected to work. What holidays I'll be entitled to. My terms of service. My job parameters. My responsibilities. The team structure. The clinical caseload. The clinical parameters. The clinical emphasis. The safety systems. The promotion prospects. Do I get a car, if not what petrol allowance I can claim. Do I get support staff, how many, what hours they work, their responsibilities, do they have good body’s…
You know, all the minor stuff.
Well I went and chatted with the team leader when he came back off holiday. He was just as supprised as me that I'd been offered the job. But he talked me through the team, and the way it worked. The shifts aren't to bad, and the team seems like a nice bunch. So I said I'd start when Bethy returns to school after the summer break. That'll give me a few extra days to spend with her.
The job sounds good. It's dealing with people experiencing first episode psychosis. Basically a SWAT team that dives in and tries to manage their first experiences in such a way as to minimise the harm and effects, and sets them up for as good a degree of self management as possible.
I can imagine there's going to be a lot of running about like headless chickens shouting "Oh fuck he's going to top himself!" But that's nothing new to me, most of my clients threaten that at some point. (Add your own smart arsed remark here.)
Ok, in the end I gave them the nod, I start next Tuesday.
We’ve got a new bed. It goes like this. When I moved out here Lee Anne had a waterbed. She loved it, I hated it. It made me sea sick, and not just when we were shagging. We agreed to get rid of it, but used the bladder for Chas while he was here. (Chas sleeping on a bladder? J ) We got a futon bed, one of those that convert into a sofa, off Glenn Lee Anne’s ex. The frame on this squeaked. As I am an active sleeper, I can lose 2300 cal's in a nights sleep by rolling, fighting, fidgeting and fucking in my dreams constantly, it squeaked lots. We put the futon on the floor and slept on that. Lee Anne hated it; I had to straighten her out with a sledgehammer most mornings.
So we decided to get a bed, there’s a place in Canberra that makes mattresses. Guess what it’s called?
We bought a very firm mattress off them, and one for Bethy. To say it’s made our sleeping better would be the understatement of the year. It’s been wonderful sleeping on it, and everything else on it too.
Sorry to end on a sad note, but hell this is our life I’m dribbling on about here so you better have the rough as well. Last week I was feeling distinctly under the weather. On the Friday I had a twelve-hour trip with one other staff member, and eight clients, to the coast. It’s no exaggeration to say I shouldn’t have gone, at the very least I should never have driven. But we all got back ok, and they had fun, so all well that ends well. Not quite.
Bethy was off to the coast for the week with her dad on the Saturday, and that’s always a bit of a bummer too.
Me and Lee Anne had fun over the weekend though, even if I was feeling "crook" as they say here. The Monday was "Australia Day" a bank holiday here. That evening just to get a few bits and bobs, we walked the dog to the supermarket. I went off to find some things, and came back to find Lee Anne lying on the floor surrounded by staff and shoppers. She was bleeding quite badly from the chin, had a nasty gash there. She seemed very dazed. Apparently she had fainted, and caught herself a good crack on the chin off the shelf on the way down. This is how she described it;
My jaw was broken due to my extreme faint in the shops. It was your classic tree falling scenario. I was standing waiting for Taff to come back inside when I felt a bit giddy. I then had a lovely dream about my daughter that was interrupted by this rude man shouting in my ear asking if I was all right.
I opened one eye to tell him to get out of my bedroom, when I realised my head was on tiles.
Apparently I just fell straight forwards and landed bang smack on my chin. No hands used to break fall.
Jeeezus I would kick myself if I didn't think my face would hurt.
We got her to the point where she felt she could go home, I ran off home to get the car. When I returned we got her to her feet, but after a few steps she had to sit down again. Her chin was still bleeding. The guy who was the evening shift manager, and who had stuck with Lee Anne, fending off all the nosy buggers’ etc, said he wanted to call an ambulance. We agreed that an ambulance would be for the best. This guy was superb by the way; we cannot thank him enough for the discreet and caring way he dealt with everything. I even wrote a letter to his boss to make sure his good works didn’t go without mention.
The ambulance dutifully arrived, and Lee Anne was whisked off for three stitches in her chin and an overnight stay at the local hospital. The next day we got the news. She’d fractured her jaw in two places.
As I type this she’s having her jaw wired up, she’ll be eating through a straw for the next five weeks.
E-mails of sympathy, letters', and cards to the usual address please. And a few bottles of Laphroaig for me too.
Oh well, sorry to end on a bum tale, but that’s life eh? Keep your constant stream of e-mail replies up; we do enjoy getting them.
Love
Taff, Lee Anne & Bethy
*Yes I have a new CD of my bloody awful music coming out. It’s yours for an e-mail. All music composed and played by me. Please send your current address and entitle your mail. "Oh god do I really want to hear any more of his shite".
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