Commentable

You've probably all checked out this blog already, but given that I'm still considering myself (after nearly two weeks) a novice, I'll put it down to that:

tjsplace.blogspot.com

He is a crackin good writer. He must spend half a day blogging, and each blog gets something like 90 comments. It must be some weird thrill knowing that you are being so commentable.

Lee, can you edit this for me? Just jazz it a little, make it a little more commentable.

Makrame is art

Makeme, I read your posts as Rob, cos it was a new name, and I wondered why he was listening to a midget jewish woman lecturing in shallots about architecture. But still, in a Rob way, it seemed to make sense.

I've just read Easy Riders Raging ..he he he I just worked out i can edit everyone elses Posts and vice cersa I suppose. And this is sneaky fun coz I can shove stuff in here and see if you're re-reading your own posts to see how mentally unstable you were the day before, like I do...Bulls, and amidst all the incredible stuff in it I think I like the story of William Friedkin (director of french Connection and the exorcist) who's film (Sorceror) has also I could fuick up all your speling just gone overbudget by something like $20M (ORIGAMI A $10M film) and the studio execs call him in for a meeting. He arrives with two mates and all three are dressed as motor mechanics ("I wanted to show utter disrespect to these people"), orders a bottle of vodka, drinks his way through it, and falls off his chair as the execs explain the changes they'd like to make.

telephone

Egan St, approx 3:30 pm, Monday afternoon

young man: "I've met the hottest guy"

telephone: ...

young man: "... we were together for three whole days ..."

telephone: ...

young man: "... his name is Christopher, with a K ..."

Les on the fence

For some reason I imagine Les with a round of fencing wire, ambling along with his fat calves chubbing out between the cuff of his shorts and his boots.

Maybe he's thinking about the fence and boundaries and the lines the establishment want to draw between themselves and the bumpkins in the country. Those damn elites, he's cussing as he sees the fence and the metaphor and the delapidated possibilities he might turn it to.

An image, he thinks, is a description shaped by an inner intent. "Living in dailiness, a simple bread"

Ah, Les thinks, Judith Wright was good before she got all pink and green.

A malice I don't dislike

You have shown me great goodness. But I deserved it. Said Boswell

Yes, said Rousseau. You are malicious, but tis a pleasant malice, a malice I don't dislike. Write and tell me how you are.

A conversation between James Boswell and Jean Jaques Rousseau in a greasy spoon in south london, over ketchup, tea and chips while waiting for the fish to arrive.

little people

I like the name of this blog: or they might be midgets.