Ok
you fucking retard, it's your fault now that you're sitting in
the computer lab. Guess why? Return address, hmm? How come I'm
Mr. Keith? I could get used to that. Perhaps just "Mr.
Keith"... yeah, call me that from now on: it has sufficient
respect and awe, and yet it shows I'm willing to mingle with the
little people. My guess is that you write with a purple marker,
big and double spaced cos you have nothing to say, and I write
with a pencil because it attracts attention and makes you put in
effort if you want to glean any insights into the world. Hey!
I've been having headaches too; isn't it wonderful? I would have
said it's a lack of sleep thing, although I'm sleeping ok, but
not getting refreshed; you would have said it's lack of echinacea
(not sure of the spelling; my dic only has echidna, spiny
anteater, and echinus, sea urchin. If it's from either of these,
you have another lapse to add to your Guinness, naughty girl) and
excess stress. I think we're probably both right, cept for that
damn fool idea about echinacea - you are just a tool of the
rabbit advertisers.
I
wont write anything about your relationship situ cos a) what
could I say? and b) in a shocking invasion of privacy, I've
decided to post this letter to my mailing list. Mundane crap can
be read by all 184 or so, but I have a limit to the lines I will
cross.
How
come you only ever invite me up to visit you when you're in a new
place? Well? Hmm? If you really want me to come up, I will, on
condition that you come down and go to Wimbledon with me (last
week in June, first in July). You may cry off saying you're too
poor, but now so am I, and I'm willing to make the effort, so why
won't you, you cruel heartless woman with a heart of stone? LM n
LP are visiting this weekend, and I've decided to stay around so
it's Tom's bed, not mine, that gets stained. After that I'm
thinking of popping down to the IoW to visit Everest the kitten
and Davio's Dreamcast, but dunno whether to go on Monday and back
on Wednesday in time to teach on Thursday, or whether to go the
following Tuesday (after KODO!!!!) and take a coupla David's
little friends down for half term. Either way, I believe, my
train fare is paid for, but I may well be slipped a little
something extra if I ferry young kids across the Mersey, realise
my mistake and head south. My summer is looking relatively quiet,
so I am considering livening it up with a quick jaunt round the
country (ie, up to Ed, plus wherever I need to change trains, arf
arf), if I am welcome. My only plans so far are Kodo in two
Mondays time, Wimbledon, and, tentatively, my buuuuddy Scarlet
visiting from Steinbeck's Okie dustbowl in September. It truly is
an exciting life I lead, isn't it?
I
re-read Catch 22, and re-listened to Janis Joplin, which always
brings a smile to my pouty, cherry lips. I'm still working
through 700 page Vol.1 of HST's letters. I haven't bought any new
(or even secondhand) books in ages; I have so many still to read,
and unless I see one that I've been looking out apollo for for
forty ages, then I'll do without. The only real recommendations I
have for you to not read, are an obscure little play called Death
Of A Salesman, and Borderliners by Peter Høeg. What was the last
book you didn't read?
I
told you about the concentration camp biscuits, didn't I? The
website doesn't seem to be working, so if you want them, just
email jim@bahlsen.co.uk and say that the website
isn't working, but you want free biscuits - and don't forget to
send your address, so the company can a) send your free biscuits
and b) forward it to me, so I know where to practice being
Unabomber II. Getting those biscuits made my day yesterday and
receiving your letter made my day today; unless something
unexpected happens, I'm gonna drum for two hours tomorrow to keep
me buzzin like a banjo and rockin like a racoon.
Well
that's it. I would have spent money in writing, but I don't have
your address. I believe there's some website that will convert
your email to a letter and post it for you for free - the
probably advertise on it too, but what's wrong with being a
whore? - so if you get this email, before you get this email, let
me know your address and I'll get it posted to you post haste.
(Oh and if you ever fill in a form and they ask for 'other
comments' write 'I have nipples'; I've started doing this, and
it's wonderfully cathartic. And if you go to a gig, write my name
somewhere on your person; it's a new fad, and you can be one of
the trendsetters).