Tag: writing

1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

So we eat Ox Tail and Ox Tongue – but what do we do with the rest of the Ox?

Tuesday, 24 June 1996  2:50am Gee it felt good not to drink Sis.  So righteous, so in control.  I liked it so much, that I did it again on Friday night.  Actually, everyone took it rather quietly, except Erin’s boyfriend, Billy.  He got pissed.  I think that getting pissed myself all the time has blinded me to the jibes that people make.  Sometimes I wonder … Continue reading So we eat Ox Tail and Ox Tongue – but what do we do with the rest of the Ox?

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

Pulled my donut scam today.

Thursday, 20 June 1996 Hey Sis, Have to start this one in a temporary file.  My computer’s being all jazzed up and had Windows 95 installed, but it doesn’t have Word on it yet.  So, what have I done? Lemme see… Friday night was the obligatory drinks (which I’m skipping this week by the way for a bit of variety) which stretched into the wee … Continue reading Pulled my donut scam today.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

Maybe I’ll just skip the University course and make myself homeless now.

Wednesday, 5 June 1996  8:35am Hey S, Had that lunch with our Father yesterday.  Depressing affair, all told.  Basically, these ideas of going back to Uni are shot, they really are.  It’s the people I work with, they’re always going on and on and on about how crap it is here, so I guess I’m conditioned to think that.  Then they all go on about … Continue reading Maybe I’ll just skip the University course and make myself homeless now.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

It’s not how much you’ve had – it’s how bad you feel.

Saturday, 4 May 1996  12:30pm Yeah, yeah… in on a Saturday.  I don’t feel that I put in too good a performance this week, so I’m in here now trying to boost the week’s tally.  I’m keying the questionnaires the companies fill in and send back.  It’s not such bad work, each one’s a bit different.  You do have to use your brain a little. … Continue reading It’s not how much you’ve had – it’s how bad you feel.

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1996, An Aside, Letters from J, Letters to S

Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

Thursday, 11 April 1996  8:30pm Hey Sis, Sitting here, on a rainless night, thinking about nothing, as in not thinking nothing but thinking about nothing. I do this sometimes at work, or when I’m bored. Think of it. Nothing. No matter, so no space. No time.  Hmmm. There’s no time. I guess time doesn’t exist in a vacuum.  Time is only measurable in its effect … Continue reading Girls either tart right up or slob right down after a break up. I suppose men do the same but lack the dramatic apparatus of make-up and mini-skirts.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m drunk on juicy office gossip.

Tuesday, 9 April 1996  9:48pm Hey Sis, How you doing? Another typed letter from your bro.  Poorly typed an’ all.  It’s raining here, on Easter Tuesday.  Jana Wendt is on Channel 7, hosting her new (and deskless, might I add) show, “Witness”.  It’s quite highbrow, long pieces on “real” issues.  I do suspect, however, that she is sans desk simply to show off her legs. … Continue reading I’m drunk on juicy office gossip.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

How long is 90 seconds? I’ll tell you.

  An Aside from S In this letter J says that he is typing his 1996 diary and that it is filed in a folder – I have never seen/found this folder which is why there are no diary excerts for 1996. He also writes about protecting and destroying his diary…   Sunday, 17 March 1996 Hey Sis, here’s an overdue letter, eh?  Sorry to … Continue reading How long is 90 seconds? I’ll tell you.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

And so my great journey across the desert of Coitus Non-Existus continues…

Monday, 29 February 1996  Sis, It’s leap year day, last one for eight years apparently.  Some glitch in the cosmos, I don’t pretend to understand.  Spent the day blanched by the suffocating heat, indulging in office gossip shenanigans.  I love the word shenanigans.  There it is again, shenanigans, shenanigans. Made castles in Spain with Scottish Lisa in the tea room.  I was going to write a … Continue reading And so my great journey across the desert of Coitus Non-Existus continues…

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

These fellas were wading through the vomit-lake and heaving with jocularity like Vikings. I quickly fled the scene.

Monday, 5 February 1996  11:08 am So Friday I go over to “Klicks” for drinks.  I’ve worked out my budget, and I know I really ought to go after two or three beers, because I’ve got this pub crawl thing with Quinn on Saturday night.  Quinn used to work here, now he’s in advertising with a four day week and an enormous bloody salary.  Anyway, … Continue reading These fellas were wading through the vomit-lake and heaving with jocularity like Vikings. I quickly fled the scene.

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1996, Letters from J, Letters to S

The absolute MOTHER of all typos.

Tuesday, 30 January 1996  11:59PM Christ S, people really can’t be trusted with a secret can they? Henry the Brit has just let a cat out of a bag, and into some pretty dangerous hands too, might I add. Explanation: About three editions ago, there was an incredible typo that appeared in “Who the Fuck Cares”.  It was a rude word, the rudest word there … Continue reading The absolute MOTHER of all typos.

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