I’m a gracious vanguard of sensitivity. Not.

From:   'S'
Date:    Friday, May 10, 2002 10:50PM
To:     'J'
Subject: Hey?

You must of heard of these, everyone thinks I am a freak knowing shit like this.

http://www.theatlantic.com/issues/2000/12/elliott.htm

http://www.rense.com/politics6/hand.htm

 

From:   'J'
Date:   13 May 2002 02:26AM
To:     'J'
Subject: Re: Hey?

Nah, don’t feel bad, I’ve known about devotees for years. I even met someone once who cut off their pinky. She said it was because her symbolic animal was the crow, and she wanted her hand to look like a crow’s claw.   She chopped it off with an axe on a chopping block up at Byron Bay. She kept the finger too, but she didn’t show it to me. Crazy Ferals! That link you sent me was the best article I’ve seen on it tho. I read it all, it was well written. Let me put your mind at rest tho – I’m not into amputees nor do I fancy becoming one. How about you?  Don’t worry, I won’t judge you…

I dragged Mum and her plastic hips down to the Botanic Gardens for Mother’s Day. Had a picnic, which was nice until it started to rain. Spent $60 on the food too (ever gracious, me), so when we got home and Mum drove back to “Poo Town” I had to scoff the whole spread to make sure my locust housemates wouldn’t devour it. Spent the rest of Sunday feeling somewhat under the weather, being packed to the gills as I was with dips, antipasto and blue brie. Not to mention the Tim Tams, ciabatta and chocolate dipped strawberries (a delightfully 80s touch, I thought).

Otherwise a rather quiet weekend. Jade drove up to Shepparton for Mother’s Day, and Lena spent a good deal of the weekend out so I had the house to myself for quite a bit. Cleaned up and then gave Lena the guilts about being a fat lazy cow.  Drew some pictures (I have quite a sailor obsession at the moment) and watched some vids.  I even watched Pearl Harbor, cos sometimes you just HAVE to find out how bad something is, like smelling a fart. (Why did no-one option my romance novel? With similes like that, you have to wonder if it isn’t a conspiracy.)

Normally I’d be working like the very devil (you know me, Sis) but half the company’s in a YOGA class at the moment. I’m considering going up to the glass wall of the meeting room and blowfishing it. Or standing outside and loudly breaking into “Onward Christian Soldiers”. Bloody pagans — yoga, meditation! Was all that good Missionary work in the Colonies for nowt?

And may I say what fabulous serendipity with the Victorian police charging this Matthew King bloke on Mother’s Day for bumping off his Mum. (It’s been quite the murder mystery here for the last few weeks.) Top stuff! ha! You know Bee’s husband (Bee sits in front on me) is chummy with one of those kids, I’m not sure if it was the murderer, but I had to shush two other Marketing ladies this morning as they started to have a bit of a larf about it right in front of Bee. The vanguard of sensitivity, that’s me.

As well as being ever gracious I’m a fuckin’ Renaissance man, mate. Well, I would be if I could ride a horse and were better versed in the arts of lurve. I’m so out of practice I can barely remember the chorus — boom boom! (Maybe I should write for Hey Dad?)

Well, must be off. Have to find the will to live. I’m sure I had it on Friday…

 

Sailor 1        sailor 2 001

Sailor pictures by J found in his sketch book.

 

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