All the postie bikes have gone to sleep for the weekend
May 9th 2008 08:55
Zzzz
There's nothing like gettting a letter. Especially a hand-written one. e-mail is great, but a hand-written letter? (If you're young? You won't understand completely until you age a bit.
You'll be like a bottle of cheap wine sitting in the bottle-shop wondering why people never purchase you? Or screw their noses up at you? And say pretentious wank about their knowledge of wine? Then go to an upmarket cafe, park their Toorak tractor out the front in a no-standing zone, order house white and rave on about how good the year 2008 was for seminal blondes?
Anyway, these letters you get in your mail boxes at your home address? Or at a post office box? Vertical or horizontal slots? Makes no diff to me whether a girl stands upright or lays down on her side?
How tragic my life has become. To be reduced to getting a hard-on when I shove the mail in the slot.
Damn. I was going to write a nice kiddy story about how all the postie bikes go to sleep each night and hibernate on the weekend. Use the voice of a postie bike. Give it human qualities, and then illustrate the story with lovely photographs? So all the nice Orblers could show it to their own kiddies and educate them about the beauty and wonderment of childhood?
Oh well, I guess moral depravity has overtaken me? Flooded me in a deluge of my own filth? Like the flood in Genesis? When only Noah and his family escaped the wrath of God?
How I miss writing. I could cry tears of blood. Wash the streets of Brisbane in them. (Too busy painting the town red with my immorality? ...
Beat the meat Jack ... and Whack off Kerou? ...
I'd love to write steam of consciousness writing but I'm comatosed most nights? ... Non compos mentis? ... ???
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Comment by Morgan Bell
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
Especially the imagery of it all. It makes me want to go for a swim in an ocean of words, or stand beneath the waterfall of your words ... (I really shouldn't have deleted all of my poetry ... Oh well ... my memory will kick back in, in a few weeks time, when my body adjusts to the grind of physical M-F slavery for the dollar ... But, stuff it's great to work physically hard every day, and come home totally knackered ... it really slows my mind down to an acceptable rate ... And it only takes a few beers to get totally hammered rather than a whole slab?
And tangents are good things. It's nothing more than writing like we speak ... (The aim is simplicity, openness and honesty. And that's how we 'find' our voice. By being true to our own voice. [It's hardly rocket science, but so many people get so bogged down in the secondary issues, instead of grabbing hold of the primary ones. The essence of it all ...
Quis dabit mihi pennas sicut columbae, et volabo et requiescam? (Who will give me wings like a dove so I can fly away and be at rest). King David the Psalmist ... God I love that line.
"I like the way you ... move ...
but ...
most of all ... ?
I like the way you write ... " - some cool dude singer ...
PS: I don't know what you mean by 'I'm so glad you kept the original title.'
Comment by Norm
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Nuns have PO Boxes?
Footyless and fancyfree.
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
Works for me! Very enjoyable little piece...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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i actually speak so much worse than i write, so many tangents so little time, friends have to grab me mid-sentence and say "wait stop! pause that story so i can finish the last one before we foreget what we were talking about" haha who am i to hold back the tide?
also
i read this as Male to Female slavery haha ahhhh you mean Monday to Friday . . . hardly as interesting as the first read
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
May I say this. You are one of the most charitable men I have ever met in my life ...
It was an absolute delight and pleasure to meet you in real life (and the Wolf-Gobbler) ...
One day? I'll get down Frankston way again and catch up with you two wonderful humans ... (For the moment, however, I have to focus on work [and drinking piss on the weekends? ...
But I only have one focus atm ... that is working hard and keeping my job ... (oh and whacking off ... oh, and listening to music ... yep ... just one focus ...
But semi-seriously? I am focused on my job ... and God I love being a slave ...
Can't wait to catch up with you both again ... I'm like Morgan Freeman's character in The Shawshank Redemption ... "Yes suh, I'm a changed man."
Stuff, I dribble some shit ... It even astounds me? ...
May your mother and all your relations who are mothers have a wonderful mother's day ... and may the Mother Wolf-Gobbler have a lovely day ...
And may the world be full of love and peace and a bit of sly sex on the side?
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
Don't get me going ...
I'll only think about having angry sex with you ... Oops ... too late?
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
stop appealing to my mind ...
I'll fall in love with you again, and ask you to marry me ...
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Comment by Norm
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
I'd like to Express Post you, air mail you (join the mile-high club?) and send you an ordinary vanilla-coloured letter that gets lost and ends up at the dead-letter office ...
So, good try baby. At putting me off. If you can't turn your natural charm off? Well, what chance me of not writing to you like this? ...
I think in technical literary terms it's called online flirting ... In my mind? I'ts foreplay for masturbation ... but I'm a sick pup? ...
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
Angry sex with you? I'd never have sex with another woman baby ...
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
You're just a charitable man ... full-stop. Amen and Alleluia to madmen and monks ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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i have to admit i re-read everything you say to me about five times, you should see my little face, wide-eyed trying to figure out exactly what on earth your motives are?
anyway, what do i care, im flat on my back gagging for stimulation . . . did i just say that? (there you go, i could never be accused of being unkind to a sick pup)
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
You're hardly likely to gag on my short pink pencil, but the image of your dove-like face, all wide-eyed and infatuated with my organ (brain) is a lovely image ...
As to you being an unsexual person? Well I must just be one of those males who gets off on a woman's brain, because the way you write? That is sexual to me ...
The way you write? It makes my mind think of the lyrics to that most wonderful song by OutKast ... "I love the way you move." ... But most of all? I love the way you write ...
Maybe I read King Solomon's Canticle of Canticles too much in my monastic days, because to me, your pic reminds me of the dove he writes about ...
If you're unsexual? Then I find you a totally unsexy creature ...
As to my motives? If someone can engage this mind of mine? I tend to fall in love with that person. So far even God has failed to totally captivate it ... but that's only because I buck at suffering 24/7 ... I give God my working week, because that is full-on suffering (there's humans in the workplace and I'm people intolerant) ... And I give the alcohol and tobacco companies the rest of my week ... Out of respect for the soothing qualities of beer and tobacco ... [Self medication is much cheaper than counsellors or psychs ...
I think I'm in love with Stevie Nicks again ... I've been listening to her dove-like voice all weekend ... I wish that Christine McVie woman wouldn't stop trying to outsing her ...
Lovely of you to visit my Dove ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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Stevie Nicks is a very cool lady, her voice is one of the most amazing ive heard . . . i saw her in concert once, she had alot of ribbons streaming from her microphone stand, it rocked!
"short pink pencil" BAHAHAhaha what a weird thing to say . . .
youre gay right? no? perhaps just "unsexual" like me . . . you have a talent for making sexual implications sound extremely unappetising . . . would you describe your whole life as monastic?
without self medication and laughter there would be no point living . . . im often sick in bed . . . confused in the head . . . easily led . . .
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
You have to be gigging me? (But then again, a lot of people think I'm gay in real life ...
Two things contribute to this. 1. The natural silver streak in my hair that looks like I had an alfoil job done at an upmarket hairdressers, and 2. The fact that I have a delicate touch. [But that's the fear of slamming doors and shouting (and boisterous noise in general due to my childhood ... [I think it's a consideration of other people thing ... but shit I don't want to write a book here Morgan ... I could go on about these things until the cows I don't own come home?
I'd love to have gone to a Fleetwood Mac concert ... but never did ... (I have to agree with you ... Stevie Nicks has the most amazing voice ... it infliltrates the marrow of my soul and makes me want to be a sexual creature ...
You're spot on, re:
Monasticism altered my life totally ... Today? I slave my guts out at work for one reason: Monasticism.
It's a really hard thing to explain without a three day convo, but I know for a certainty that the memories of monastic life will never leave me ... And that one day, ["When it pleases the good God," as the Cure of Ars was wont to say], I'll have to return to working hard beyond "work hours" ... and stop deluding and deceiving myself ... but as St Augustine was wont to pray ... "Lord, give me chastity ... but not just yet." ...
Technically, I'm still married. And that's a torture and a half ... But the marriage breakup did so much damage to my soul, I lost the joy of living, and never recovered ...
So I work. Then come home each night and drink myself into oblivion. Some nights, like tonight, I get the urge to write (for it is my passion), but then I'll just flag and go ... "I've got a day of womanless thrust-and-grind ahead of me tomorrow... "
I'm sure I'm half [3/4?] cut most mornings when I go to work, but we sort mail for six hours before we get on our postie bikes, and I just hope like hell I'm semi-sober when I go out and deliver mail ...
If I had to sum my life up briefly? I'd use God's words ... "It is not good for man to live alone. Let us make him a partner." ... What I want to know is this ... Why my God, are you torturing me so much? ...
Why have you given me such a lonely existence? Why have you made me so unattractive to all my friends and family ? ... Why God, why? ... Why? ...
Why have you condemned me to slave my guts out day-in, day-out? Week-in, week-out? And never give me any relief? ...
Why? ... It's the only question I can ask.
When I give so much to other people?
Why am I so misunderstood?
Why am I so threatening? When I am meek and mild and gentle of heart? ... Is it because I speak the truth? Open and honest? A recipe for being shit upon by humans, Lord? ...
"Yep, damn straight, Senator. Someone should just come along and flush all this filth down the drains." ... ... ... (long beat) ... "Thank you ... (beat) Travis." ...
I'd love to lead you to a land where love reigns supreme, and people swim in milk and honey ... "Where the streets have no name ... "
But you're so far away ... so I guess virtual contact is the best deal I'm going to get ... [but I appreciate that ...
I might go now ... I wonder what I'll think about what I've written next time I read this? Does it really matter? The outpourings of a man's heart as almost as good as a woman's ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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im pretty easy to profile if youve got an internet connection and the will, my whole life is on the internet . . . overcompensating for the absense of face-to-face at the moment and all that jazz . . . if i decided to be a serial killer im sure i would be terribly easy to read!
when you write on here are you drinking?
i actually think people dont need "partners" in the traditional sense and if people werent taught to dismiss all other forms of relationships in search of the elusive "other half" they might appreciate the good company that is all around them
i also think people find unpredictable personalities threatening . . . the person i loved most in my life was not the nicest or most generous person, infact he could be a real selfish bastard, but he was completely without guile and thats rare these days
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
What these people fail to realise are a few principles of theology and philosophy. I can't be bothered going into them in detail. Suffice to say, "He to whom much is given, much will be required."
I've heard the word "intimidating" so many times from women. Subtextually, it's their way of saying, "I want to live my life out in Lynchian Blue Velvet, white-picket-fence style?" It's their way of saying, "I would rather a man made shitloads of money and supported me financially, rather than have any passion in my life." ? "I'll just talk about how passionate I am, and check the bank balance every few hours." ?
In other words? "David, if you changed into the type of man I like, I would love you?" Pfft. I'm me. Love me for who I am or don't waste my time?
To me, life was meant to be grabbed by the balls and lived. (To chuck in a monasticism? Our Lord said, "I have come so that you may have life to the full. Pressed down and overflowing." But those with "retirement mentality" beg to differ? And think I should live like they do? Live my life out in a succession of days filled with nothing but bland mediocrity? Nup. No thanks. Not for this little black duck.
For all of my faults, deficiences, inadequacies, shortcomings, and imperfections (and I don't have time to list them all right now ... [I can give you the phone numbers of my family, relations and friends though? They'd be more than happy to list them? And talk about them ad nauseam? To make themselves feel better? Superior?), I have given life a crack. And I'll continue to do so until the day this body I was fitted with "gives up the ghost".
Guile is not a word used very often nowadays. I love the word. It always reminds me of St Philip the Apostle. "A man without guile." [I honestly find Sacred Scripture (The Bible) an amusing and erotic read, but that's just me, I guess] ... I love Philip's comment to Our Lord ... "Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for me." And Our Lord's response? "Philip, have I been with you this long and you still don't comprehend that he who sees Me sees the Father." (Well it amused me) ...
As to drinking? I'm not even apologising to God Himself for drinking, so what chance a human being?
My mum? She wishes I was a tee-totaller. But at the end of the day (after she's harped on about drinking, and how much I drink?), she always comes to one conclusion ... And will say, "For all of your faults, David, no-one could ever accuse you of not being kind and thoughtful."
I rarely ever instigate a "quarrel" (and I'm referring to Orble here) but by hell, I retaliate well.
One of my favourite sayings? "I don't like playing games, but if you want to play them? (especially in a text-based environment), I bet I play them better than you."
Passion to me is everything. It gets me into heaps of shit. But at the end of the day? I'm me. (I'm very disciplined at work. Monastic life taught me that. I hardly say a word at work. Just "Yes sir, no sir, three bags full, sir." (Or Madam, or Ms ... ??? [But I'm quiet at work. I just concentrate on my work, and do it to the best of my ability, because to work physically hard at a relatively brain-dead job is what Our Lord did ... for our instruction ...
It's the times after work that worry/bother me the most ... Loneliness eats away at me ... so I write ...
Anyway, I'd better stop now ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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sounds like an old school bitch to me!
ps: i just checked my bank balance and your payment for my charming company is overdue! lol . . . no really, get on to it, i cant be expected to drink generic cask wine forever
i like how in the progression of these comments you have gradually cut back on all your sexually agressive language to the point where there is practically none . . . you are an adaptable person, a verbal chameleon of sorts, tailoring your words to your audience . . . i always remember Dr Fleischman on the 90s tv show Northern Exposure decribing his indian (native american) receptionist as "without guile" and worrying she would be taken advantage of outside her small home town . . . he was jewish, it might be why he used biblical terminology, i myself know very little of the influential little book
so is the underlying message here that you are feeling resentful to still be working when others your age are retired?
comparing yourself to others is such an easy trap to fall into and so difficult to claw your way out of . . . the ultimate gaping chasm . . . its one of those vital pieces of advice which is great to give but hard to take (or follow) yourself . . . that and "it is only your expectations which lead to your disappointments"
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
As to the ‘influential little book’ … It’s a great read. In the film Barton Fink (which is very Jewish due to the Cohen Bros Jewish-ness … they even take a stab at Jewish-ness in the film in a way only they could get away with … [in my top 3 favourite films btw … (it’s a writer’s thing)] …
Anyway … there’s this hundred year-old bloke operating the lift at the Earle Hotel, and Barton has a chat with him, as they’re going up.
Barton says, “Have you ever read the Bible, Pete?”
Pete says, “The Holy Bible?”
Barton nods.
Pete says, “No, but I’ve heard of it.”
God they are great film-makers (and screenwriters) those two Bros. They can pack so much into a single scene. Their dry wit and subtext is … [well it hits the spot with me …
As to the progression of the comments? And tailoring them to the audience? I’m sick of losing friends …
As to this?
Hell no. The complete opposite. I want to drop dead at work. (I’m serious) …
My grandfather (of blessed memory) was a wheat-lumper (which is one of the most physically demanding jobs on this planet [or was before the world went crazy and tried to stop men from working physically hard, and gave them machine-buttons to press so they didn’t have to exert themselves … “Good Ford. Brave New World” ??? (Anyway, he was doing this job at 68. Came home one night. Dropped dead [I was only 4 at the time. Wish I’d gotten to know him better. He sounded like a real trooper to me.
My heroes in life? Not the movers-and-shakers of this world. Salt-of-the-earth types. Hard-working men with a skerrick of humility (for we are all proud creatures to some degree) … The world has gone celebrity mad. But what do celebrities do? They live off the natural talents they were given, and give no thanks to the origin of their natural talents. (Christ once healed ten lepers. Only one came back to thank Him. [And that’s why I love Sacred Scripture. Just a few words … a parable … and it sends my mind into contemplative mode …
What can I do but be grateful for this insane mind I was given? One thing I would like to do in life is get to the stage where I was like Holy Job. Who had everything taken away from him, and sat on the dunghill and said, “Blessed be God. God gives. God takes away. Blessed be His Holy Name.” … When things are taken away from me? I curse God. I have to stop doing that. (People rave on about great secular literature, but the book of Job? It’s one of the greatest reads on the planet. There is so much depth in simplicity.
Anyway, the value of hard physical work for a man?
Most of the Saints all said they would rest in eternity. (As in, our lot in life is to work by the sweat of our brow. Women have their own problems due to Original Sin. Childbirth and those women thingys they have to put up with. Men have hard work) …
It would be really tough to pick my favourite Saint, but St John Vianney would have to go close. He flogged his body and mind. Lived on 2 hours sleep a night for 20 years. [His biography by Abbe Francis Trochu is one of my favourite books]. And a meal every few days. A couple of boiled potatoes and a matafian (I think that’s how you spell it. It’s a poor man’s French pancake made of flour and water). I “eat” liquid pancakes and potatoes. Beer is made from grains.
And I always come back to the same thing. I’ve learnt to work hard at work. And I’m proud of that, because I’m a lazy bastard by nature. And it’s a real grind up here. But I love being a postie. Out of the 80-odd jobs I’ve had in life, it’s my favourite. It’s blokey, manly and virile. But when I’m not working? I turn into a slothful creature. I really have to do something about my existence outside of work hours. But I’m just too shattered and fragmented to do anything about it. I should be shedding tears in front of the Most Blessed Sacrament, but I’m shedding them in my born-again-bachelor’s pad. While I drink myself into oblivion or ‘Nothing Land’.
They say, “Behind every good man is a woman.” I’d rather walk alongside one, not demean her to a secondary role, but very few people will believe me when I write that. I guess I’m condemned to being a man’s man. [That being written? I love the company of a woman more than anything on this earth
I’m thoroughly enjoying engaging with your mind. So, thanks for the responses.
Comment by Morgan Bell
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
She's a dottery old woman just like my mum .. how can you not love her for all her dottery-ness?
I pissed her off big time ... before you joined Orble ... She thinks I'm profane ... well fair enough ... prudes always will ... ??? ...
She musn't know it's me ... or she would never list me ... (or maybe it's a reverse psychology thing ? ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
I thought it was sincere! I never know what the good godamn is going on with her. Friend or foe? Sane or nuts? I used to enjoy the mystery.
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
She'll get her comeuppance on judgement day ...
when she finally realises that God does not look down upon her with envy?
Please excuse me while I execute a techincolour yawn? ...
Comment by Morgan Bell
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BAHAHAhaha shes certainly a strange one
anyway, enough of that old biddy, what were we saying before . . .
well if thats an either/or statement i guess technically you would have me out there working hard with the men?
i loved Brave New World . . . soma anyone? haha
you type with amazing accuracy for a drunk . . .
i drink white wine only by the way, something in red always makes me cry (is it a chemical? i dont know)
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
I can work all week at physically demanding labour on a sausage roll a day from the 7.30am food van... as long as I have my alcohol ...
I'm getting a bit over having to justify it ... This work knackers me out ... I want to write but can't any more ... I'm too physically drained at the end of each day ... I just sit here and go ... Well I just sit here and listen to music ...
I bought an ipod a couple of days ago ... (I want to block the brain-dead dribble I hear people go on with at work... and just sort mail without all the bullshit ) ... it looks great in the packet ... I don't have the time to work out how to make it work ...
Today it was ... finish at dark again ... the the whole week looks like panning out exactly the same ... 6am-6pm every day ... But you've been courteous ... so I thought I'd make the effort to respond to your comment ...
I know it's not much of a comment ... but I'm just so knackered ... I think I'll just sit here in my comatose state and drink beer until I can't keep my eyes open any more ...
Comment by Kleonaptra
Kalikapsychosis
I'll load your ipod for you David.
Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
You can load more than my ipod ...
You can treat me like your favourite horse if you like ... (Did I really write that?
I could do with a dose of angry sex right now ...
You know how you love animals? And nature? And all that stuff?
I think the thing I love most about you is ...
you'd put out big time ... ? (I am so off my scone tonight ... What's new?
But back to the love of animals. Do you like doggy? lol
Nup. I couldn't do it Kleo. I'd enjoy it too much. And I'm not into pleasure.
But in all semi-seriousness? Stuff I'd love to meet you ... I can blow in my pants ... okay?
LIke I said, I'm off the planet tonight ... That's what working for a living does to you?
I'm going ...
I might imagine what you'd be like tonight ... Just imagine that you loved me and stripped down naked and said ... Fuck me before I go insane ...
I really should go ...
I wonder what I'll think of what I've written to you when I'm semi sober?
xxx
Comment by Morgan Bell
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Kalikapsychosis
Imagine when we do meet....So nervous, shuffling our feet and looking at the ground, fiddling with fingers and terrified to look in each others eyes....Thinking....
Crap! Why did I write all that online?
Until, of course, we start drinking, and our words turn into shameless flirting, because the best way to hide shyness is to pretend your ALL THAT....
Seriously David, you need a cuddle. X
Comment by Lilla
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Are they all manufactured with a squeak or do you only graduate to the squeaky ones after so many years of dedicated postal distribution?