I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I sure have. Things have really changed around here. A bit top heavy if you know what I mean. The Committee, you know. It’s as if I can’t get a damn thing passed them anymore. And that means no updates on the front page. Don’t complain to me – go talk to The Committee. Of course, you won’t actually get to talk to them – no one does. I don’t. I write things. They sit in ‘your drafts’ waiting for approval but everything these days gets trounced.
There was the idea about the sausage vendor who ended up at a conference in Novosirbirsk. There was the one out about the wild colonial kiwi boys and thir thin noses, bad skin and greasy hair. The story about the Vladivostokian brass band that escaped from the amusement park in their bright red greatcoats and fuzzy-felt beefeater hats; on the run from cruel immigration officials keen to send them back to the samsung overlords. There was the one about the trousered ape, the boy with the rainbow parasol and Darth Vader “I’m your dad, baby” – the scene on a suburban bus in a sunny seaside town during may. A little girl standing with her mother sitting and the bus bumping around but not enough to knock anybody too much and the little girl is pointing to the back of the mostly empty bus and jumping up and down and saying something to her mum. The mum looks around and there’s Darth, all arms n legs cramped into the little bus seat.
There was the one about the undertaker’s girlfriend, sarah. And there was a real life anecdote from yours trooly from when I was 15yo and I got benignly posessed by the spirit of Steve Peregrin Tooke, while high and listening to Tyrannosaurus Rex’ album, Unicorn.
Those are only the ones I can remember off hand. Peace out.
I s’pose I should say rip to the steve irwin. He died doing what he loved. What does that mean? What does that mean??? If I died doing what I love you’d find me toes-up half way through a spellcheck with normal words like Denis substituted with the suggested words, like tents. I never watched his tv shows but I have a deadly serious attitude about quarintine. I was reading some obit. news article and it had a bit from him addressing some boring committee in a boring way but then he adds and that scares the living daylights out of me at the end of a sentence so I guess he was always on. I once lived in a share house with a guy who was manic. When we’d do a group shop he’d always look at the cashier’s name tag at the checkout and make a point of saying their name a lot.