Cole Parker
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Blog Comments posted by Cole Parker
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Does this imply you will sleep with anyone providing the wrong answer?In that case, I guess Margaret Thatcher.C
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Hmmmmm! I wonder if there's any sort of relationship between these two statements?CAnd so continues my record of having never voted for a winner. ...a man, during a debate, pulled on a pair of plastic Groucho glasses (the kind with the fake mustache) and burst into song, belting out "I gotta be meeeeeee!" (I voted for that one). -
One simply knows the correspondent is ancient when he can quote lines from Tea for Two off the top of his head.CPS - And where the witty reposte I offered, early this morning?
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It several of his books, James Herriott speaks about his battles clipping the nails of ferocious cats, and goes on somewhat in talking about his normal technique of wrapping the animals in a piece of shrouding, immobilizing them. What's I found memorable about this was his ultimate line, written in his usual self-deprecating style and hypothetically of someone else memorializing him: That Herriott, not the brightest vet I ever met, but he sure could wrap a cat.Many people agree, the best way to handle this chore is, take the cat to someone else and let them do it. Cats have the ability to distrust for the longest times when they feel they've been fooled or affronted. Better to let that animosity be directed elsewhere.Saves the knees, too.C
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Trab, what's fucked up is you thinking you're his READER. Quite obviously, I'm his READER. Don't get ahead of yourself here.And Jason, that very last line says it all, doesn't it? I'd never make fun of you for that. You're simply letting the play run to it's natural end, whatever that may be. If it were predictable, people wouldn't be buying tickets.Thanks for letting us watch.C
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How appropirate, the Orang suggesting more postassium.Everyone knows a chief source of postassium is bananas.C
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Enough about the milk! -- RadObstreperous, precocious, impatient youth.C
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Trab, I was teasing. I loved you moving on from leaving us a picture of him taking care of himself to then telling him to get a grip.I don't know if it were intended as a pun. The "get a grip" comment was the first line of a completely different and more serious subject. So I assumed it was serendipitous.I just loved the juxtaposition of the two sentences.C
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"And milk. Can you drink too much milk, I wonder? I must be on two to three pints a day. I Love it ... and NO health warning, which makes me suspicious" -- CamyMilk contains both calcium and fat. Fat clogs your little arteries, raises your blood pressure and leads to stroke and heart problems. Calcium, if you have too much in your system, gets into your kidneys and is the main element in kidney stones.Now, I don't know if the type calcium found in milk causes the kind of pain associated with kidney stones, and I don't know what fat content milk you're drinking, but why take the risk on something as dicey as milk? it seemed to me you had a much b etter plan working for you a while back.Drink red wine. Good for you. Both your heart and disposition. And encourages peeing, instad of blocking it up.C
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A very awkward conjunction of words, Trab.C. At least you, Jason, got to, you know, 'do it', albeit by yourself. Jason, get a grip. -
From the pen of Camy:I love 'Duck Duck Goose' and I hate it, too. As a story it's had me in all states of emotion, yet as a writer I know I could never write anything similar. That kind of length would get me twisted up in knots so fast I'd have to admit myself to the loony bin.But why? That's what's bothering me. Why can I only seem to write short stories?I have a couple of nearly finished novels, and yet every time I think of finishing them, I get into a cold sweat.Camy:The why it is you don't want to finish your stories seems apparent to me, and as you're much wiser than I am, should be to you as well if you think about it.I think all writers have insecurities. I think it goes with the territory. We have to be open to what's around us, sensitive to thoughts and nuances and what's behind things, if we're going to expound upon them in our writing with any profundity at all. And if we're sensitive, if we're emotional, if we're intelligent--all marks of a decent writer--then it only makes sense we'd be sensitive enough to maintain some self-doubts as well. And if we doubt ourselves and our ability and our craft, then what could be worse than putting ourselves on the line, baring our souls to the world, by writing something down, then just letting anyone and everyone read it, and, oh my god, judge us for it? You don't have to suffer all that if you don't finish anything.But I've seen your writing, Camy. It's great. And I can feel the intelligence just oozing out of it. So the chance that you could write a longer piece and it would be awful, and get you tied up, and not be worth anything, isn't something to fret over. Trusting ourselves is sometimes difficult, but not do so, in your case, is completely unnecessary. There is no need. None at all.And if I misread your reluctance to write The End on something, I apologize.C
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Des, I'm sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but if you give up bathing, it won't matter a whit whether you're gay or straight, what you will definitely be is lonely.Repeat after me: Cleanliness is next to godliness, cleanliness is next to godliness, cleanliness is next to godliness.Be the god you were meant to be. Bathe.C
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We all do occasionally. Right now, need another drink.OOPS! Don't read this, Jason.C
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The problem Des, is you set too high a standard. Whatever I write in return will sound insipid, and who wants to show themselves in that light?What you wrote was wonderful: witty and clever and funny and creative and engaging. I loved reading it. I look forward to more of the same, even if to get it I have to write stuff like this.I thought your b/f was the one to do the stroking around here.Oh, you wanted empathetic, supportive, intellectual stroking. Maybe you need a b/f upgrade. But then, giving up what you now have for that would probably mean you'd then be coming to us for the other kind, and Down Under is way too far for me. Not that it wouldn't be fun!C
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Not the good ones, son, not the good ones.CHey did you know hot dogs are made from raccoons?
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Did it occur to you he may have called you ugly simply becasue he was trying to hurt your feelings? Some people do things like that. It's a power trip for them, to see how many people they can hurt. They tend not to have much going for them in life, and get their jollies that way.It only works if you let them.The fact of the matter is, unless you're butt ugly, and few people are, who you are and what your personality is like is more important than looks. But we all want to be attractive, and it hurts the ego to think we're not, especially at you age.That nude mother had an agenda. You seem to be playing into it. Just like flames from readers, yoiu have to ignore the stuff you know isn't reasonable, be bigger than that, and move on. You can do it.C
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I was feeling fine till I began reading the Trab/Des diaries of disseased discharges. Now I'm decidedly dyspeptic.Damn it!C<g>
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Or better said, your talent at bringing them whimsically to life is absorbing our interest but not slaking our thirst for more.C
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Wow!But where's old Abe Maslow?C
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Quote from Des:Unlike the previous entry this one is based loosely on fictitious thoughts inspired by Cole's above advice.This was definitely serendipity, to get some new imaginings out of Des as a result of my throw-away description of him. What I expecting back from that, if anything, was a rant about my spurious suggestion that he had the art of dissembling down to a science. Instead, we get Chapter 2 of the continuing saga of Mr. Allthumbs and his mate, Sorefoot. Well done, Des, and don't farm out the franchise. You're doing great all by yourself.C
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With your charm and grace and dissembling ability, I'm sure you'll be friends in no time and be invited over for tea. Remember the witticism, a stranger is simply a friend you've yet to meet. For you, it should be easy to turn dialing incompetence into an asset.C
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What they now have is a vast new following on AD, but a reluctant diarist to record their activities.What is we all chip in for gas and binoculars, Des?C
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I'd never for the world believe you two were cops!A nickel to the first one to tell me why I assign them that occupation. Well, a tuppence if you're British.C
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Okay, I located the specified jottings.They do have a certain tongue-in-cheek quality to them, even if it is a bit morbid. But you quite obviously were writng with your words sandwiched in wry, so I can be excused for thinking you were being facetious. At least, that's my opinion and so I'll excuse myself.<g>I do have to wonder how you can grow to the ripe old age of 21, however, and never in your life have encountered a natural dick. That seems ludicrous to me. When I went to school, both Jr. High and High School, we had community showers, daily, following gym class. Most boys had suffered the surgeons knife, but a few, always a few, were adorned as they were borned (to make the rhyme really rhyme.) This was years ago, but my understanding is that today, even fewer boys are chopped around on than back when. So the chances that you would wend your weary way through a world of wicked wicks and not have encountered any in their natural state just blows my mind. Or makes me think that during periods of presumed exposure, the heights of passion clounded your vision, much like the Shadow clouded the minds of men.But I'll say no more on the subject, lest it be painful for you. And I'm delighted you found a way to emasculate your tormentor, fool that he was, and in so doing exposed your own creativity.C
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I'm all out of flour and the Eggs have turned
in Somewhere In Between
A blog by Jason Rimbaud in General
Posted
Details? You want details? You forget to whom you write.Jason teases and twits us, informs only enough to beguile, takes us to the edge and leaves us there, panting.Then laughs off into the sunset, and departs while we wait beseechingly on the sidelines with our tongues hanging out.Our job is to get to know Mark in bits and pieces, always remotely, always the surface, never the essence.Like it or leave it. That's our Jason.C