Sunday, 28 June 2009

Kundalini and Thebten Yeshe

Sunday 4:45 p.m.
Here's some quotes from the web about kundalini.

The concept of Kundalini can be thought of as a rich source of psychic or libidinous energy in the body. Sexual arousal and Kundalini movement is synonymous.

You will definitely experience more sexual pleasure and potency as you progress with your meditation, but that is not the purpose or the goal of Kundalini meditation. I would say that it is just a very pleasant side effect which will happen on its own without you making any conscious effort.

Despite the myths to the contrary the purpose of Kundalini meditation is not to generate masturbatory rush of sexual energy through the human body.

The objective is to raise the kundalini to the crown chakra, where it unites with the Shiva, or the male polarity, and brings illumination. The yogi then attempts to lower the energy to another chakra, but not below the heart chakra because descent to lower chakras is thought to produce ego inflation, rampant sexual desire, and a host of other ills. By repeatedly raising the kundalini to the crown, the yogi can succeed in having the energy permanently stay there.

....a premature or explosive awakening can cause insanity or death.

Well, Jack, there it is. I've just discovered that you can now read The Bliss Of Inner Fire as a google book i.e. it's online. Great.

I've been reading The Bliss of Inner Fire by Lama Thebten Yeshe on the computery thing. The problems with becoming a randy old goat are dealt with from page 146. I would copy it onto this blog, but it won't let me. Don't understand that. Probably copyright or something. Glad I found this though.

Totally fabulous book. Read it, get yourself a guru for back-up, and stop being a miserable basturn!

Saturday, 27 June 2009

The supporting deities!

2:25 a.m.
The photie is what I spent most of the day looking at. The Domestic Bliss had cleaning and clearing and chucking out of things to do, so I hid in my room and stared at the wall.

How fortunate are you, Hotboy? I am in the top one percent of the most fortunate creatures, Jack. There are few and far between who are more fortunate than moi! Few and far between.

The supporting deities are all women. The auld maw, the dakini, and the Domestic Bliss. Men are such useless basturns! They are not helpful. They have their heids stuck up their bottoms. They lack compassion.They are all moi, moi, moi!

I'd like to sing yous all a little song. Love me tender, love me sweet, and never let me go. Can you hear Elvis singing that, Jack? On the Ed Sullivan Show. Love me tender, love me sweet and all my dreams fulfill ....

The most supporting of the supporting deities, the Domestic Bliss, said I should go down to the Samye Ling for a month. Not three days. Not ten days. A month. She said there are no fags down at the Samye. No fags, no drink, no women falling out their dresses. It only costs £105 a week, or £15 a day.

There is no point in trying to describe the light and the heat and the bliss I had to endure today staring at the wall, and such like. But it had moved on and I was amazed again. It's a shame about the flatheids. People who don't meditate might as well blow their brains out. What a waste of human beingness! But it's not my fault, Jack. Being too dumb to meditate is not my fault. But where would moi be without the supporting deities, the wonderful women?

Thursday, 25 June 2009

Sexy Post!

Thursday 10:00 p.m.
"I'm so hot for you! I'm so hot for you! I'm so hot for you and you're so cold. I'm a burning bush! I'm a burning fire! I'm a bleeding volcano!" Jagger/Richards.

I'm going to down four bottles of Erdinger and listen to music on Youtube at the same time. I did not know you could do this!

'If you start me up. If you start me up, I'll never stop!' Jagger/Richards.

I don't know anything about anything. I know bugger all about Tibetan Buddhism. I know bugger all about the tantrayana, otherwise known at the yajrayana. The Great Yajrayana, the juju of jujus!

So Kalu Rinpoche, and if anyone was more realised than him ..., was bonking his driver with his attendant as they were driven across Europe. The boy was in his seventies by then. The josephine says it was bugger all tantric.

The meditations today became very good indeed after about four hours. Then we're talking hot. There is an association between heat and passion, is there not? This stuff is tantric. Shiva says in India they don't like the tantric joes because they do magic and then hump your daughter.

The theravadins, I read once, couldn't believe this Tibetan stuff...

The other arrived then unexpectedly early. I think I'll just go and help her with her luggage. Let's have fun and fool around. Dearie me.

So the theravadins thought these lamas just wanted to get pissed and hump. Anagorika Govinda, who was a theravadin German joe, said the tibetans could make saints, and he should know. The theravadins say that you cannot become a buddha in this degenerate age. You can aspire to be an arhat, but not a buddha. Ne... Thera said, with regard to his brothers from the land of snows, that if you get so far realised you can't come back even if you wanted to.

The lama said I would get "everything" from calming meditations. Maybe I should have been less ambitious. No, I shouldn't!

I read that this boy said you could tell when the monk had got the deity yoga juju together because when he asked the nuns for the humpings, he did not ask just the pretty young ones, but didn't care what they looked like since he saw them all as deities. Let us hope that these monks weren't so hot that they didn't care what kind of body the orifice had.

Compassion and altruism is the basis of the path. The qualities of the Medicine Buddha are compassion and altruism, loving kindness, bliss and joy, heat and healing. God help us all.

The sensei and reverend made me laugh today. He's coming out of a sangha meeting and gets into a contretemps with a boohoo whilst still wearing his dress ... sorry, robes! A one punch contretemps. The sensei used to have a professional boxing license. Don't fung with us! You can take the boy out of Maryhill, but you can't take Maryhill out of the boy! Zen monks, ya bass!

Kurasawa's samurai were into zen, I suppose. Have you ever seen the movie when the guy goes first? They stare. The first one to break gets choppied.

The Domestic Bliss says that there are more cleavages around just now. It's not just me. Thank God for that!

We must remember, Jack, that even in this degenerate age, it is possible to be cool. As soon as you stop bevvying, Hotboy, the Australian Ladies Volleyball Squad might be getting a bit of a pounding!

12:50 a.m.
Just been watching Thriller on Youtube after hearing of the demise of Michael Jackson. Hope I die of a massive heart attack. Like Heart Attack and Vine. We are not guaranteed the time, Jack. No, we are not guaranteed the time, Hotboy. Stop being a pissheid and get to the hut!

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

Allotment shots 2

The poppy plant sits a wee bit to the right of where I sit sometimes at the edge of the allotment. I was sitting there twice today. Last evening the poppy was closed, but today it had jumped out in all its flowering glory. How did it do that?!!! The photie doesn't do it justice. Only a week to go at the jobbie (i.e. another two and a half days) and then I can think on such things for six weeks. Six weeks! It's enough to make you weep with joy, so it is! So it is!

Allotment shots

A was a beautiful day yesterday, so I went up to the allotment instead of going to the tai chi. The flowers are on tatties. Tatties will be on the menu in a month's time. Hurrah!

Tuesday, 23 June 2009

Down where the drunkards roam!

Terrible drug alcohol. Should be banned. I wakened up this morning at four and didn't feel too bad. Last night I relented on the way to Scotmid for a bottle of collapso, and got four very nice and expensive German beers instead. I meditated from four till about half five then I fell asleep again. Nightmare!!

These days the vivid dreams are same old, same old ... but sometimes horrorshow. So I've got this time a big space, but it's getting invaded again and again, and by some people who are not very nice, and some not very nice things are happening around me. I ended up in the street and the fascist militia was chasing me into this toilet. As they were coming through the door, I managed to escape by disappearing through a crack in the roof. Dearie me.

I've been drinking every night for about the last ... since I ran out of the cannybliss. The dakini called me on the phone from the buddhafields on Sunday and says there's no resin to be had for love nor money in all the heavens, hells and Edinburgh as well. Damn ma skin!

Hotboy, this is the beginning of a collusion of auspicious circumstances. You'll have to be straight! You'll have to be straight! You have to give up drink and drugs and staying out late!

I do not feel so enthusiastic about the hut right now. I stripped back the bush covering the damage and it looks like a big bit of the side will have to be replaced. By someone. It was suggested that I get a camp bed. Great idea! Someone remarked that rats could climb and the camp bed wouldn't save me. Anyway, I could stay in the hut all day and all evening and then walk home to sleep. But it's not the same. The flatheids can still get at you if you do that.

I felt pretty fashed and bashed on the way to the jobbie this morning. After a slice of my breid with cheese and a cuppa, and a wee meditate, I felt remarkably revived! It's been a very good day at the jobbie in fact.

Yesterday evening after work, I lay down on the couch under my towel and set myself for a bit of yoga nidra then sleepybys. Then the clouds cleared and the sun came streaming through the windows.

I had to get up. It wasn't the brightness (brightness is not something I dislike!),but the heightened effect the sun had on my skin. This is the first time this has happened. In The Bliss of Inner Fire, the boy says when he was doing these meditations he couldn't go out in strong sun or sit near fires. On reading this, I remember exclaiming: Ah'm goiny be a vampire! I'm goiny be a vampire! And I'm not even getting that much heat.

I'm still a million miles away from Tsangkhopa's preferred heat, rising up the central channel. The heat I'm getting is kind of all over and not so much on the skin, but inside. All the time, despite being a disgrace to the juju, everything seems to relentlessly increase. Hurrah!

The photie is of Heruka. This joe is a wrathful deity. According to some Tibetans in the spacetime between death and life, you will encounter joes like this. On the net there's a story from Trunga Rinpoche going on about seeing this stuff. You are supposed to see Buddha families as well. This is supposed to happen whether you believe in anything or not. Hmmm?

I was listening to the Great Buddha Lama Yeshe Losal on a CD at the auld maw's and he said he wouldn't answer questions on the buddha families, their colours, etc., because he'd never seen them. You might have thought he might have encountered this kind of thing in his two previous bardo retreats.

There aren't any chakras, I don't suppose. There aren't any wheels spinning about and symbols and whatnot, even if you have taught yourself to see them. However, since before Christmas at the latest, I've been getting very strong reactions when I've been imagining purifying light coming down from the Medicine Buddha very hazily imagined over my head. And when I've been lifting the awareness.

In boxing you're not allowed to hit below the belt. This is really so you won't get hit on that spot about four fingers width below your navel. You can't have a contest if you can hit there because it wouldn't last very long. Also, you can get knocked out by a blow to a spot just below where your ribs join. One of the classic chakra positions is there. So there is something going on in these places. By imagining symbols in there, you can concentrate and focus better on such areas and get a helluvan amount of bliss, especially in the one right in the middle of your brain, which isn't really a classic chakra place at all, I don't think. It's not really the crown chakra or the third eye one. Hmmm? Does anyone know anything about what our anatomical scientists say about these areas, especially the one four fingerwidths below your navel? I didn't think so!

Monday, 22 June 2009


We do not have an internet connection at home at the moment. I took these photies on Thursday whilst up the allotment and after doing a training session in the evening. The full Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle was laid on the floor so I could take the photie dressed in my pants and socks, but maybe you don't really want to know that.

I tried hard to meditate and meditate and meditate from Wednesday on, but had the evenings off for drinking wine and spent most of yesterday socialising.

I discovered that you can buy a bottle of plonko collapso from Scotmid near where I stay for £3:49. The year after I left uni, you could buy a bottle of Spanish sauterne in Bellshill for £1. You could buy seven pints of beer for £1 in 1973. A pint of beer in the Traverse last week cost me more than the plonko collapso: £3:80.

Is it time to give up the Erdinger (£1:99 a bottle from Peckhams) for the plonko collapso, Jack? Hmmmm? You should stop drinking, Hotboy. But you can't buy soapbar in this town for love nor money. If I stop drinking, that would be no soapbar, no drinking, no nothing. So be it, Hotboy. So be it.

Thursday, 18 June 2009


10:30 a.m.
This is my day, my wonderful Thursday! I only see the Domestic Bliss for an hour this evening and then I'm on my ownio from Friday morning till Sunday. Hurrah! If anyone comes to see me, that's good, but if they don't, that's good as well! I'm really feeling very happy about everything right now ... unlike this time yesterday.

"When we can see, straightforwardly and non-conceptually, the nature of our clear light mind and remain totally absorbed in this nature without ever regressing from it, we have become a buddha." Dalai Lama. The wall.

To practise the great vajrayana, I understand it is important to think of your guru as a buddha. Now that he's in this darkness retreat, I'm convinced that the lama can do what the Dalai Lama says you have to be able to do. It's unbelievable that the lama is doing this in Scotland. It's almost unbelievable that he's my guru. What a fortunate creature I am, I am! What a fortunate creature I am!

It's just going to be me and you for most of the time, Jack, so I'll post as I go.

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

Space Travel?

Here's something interesting from the web.

"Out of the anxiety of the “free-fall” of the retreat, one may seek ground in what arises, becoming fascinated by the colored figures, the mental imagery, and the visions that one sees, and begin to fixate, magnify, and indulge in them. According to Tibetan tradition, this kind of fascination can lead to the withdrawal from reality mentioned above. In this case, one mentally creates a world of one’s own and physically enters into a state of suspended animation in which one remains for years, decades, or even centuries."

Hmmm? The Shias are waiting for some joe to come out of occultation (Is that was it's called again?); some relative of the Mohammed who's been waiting for the right time. Babaji who is the grandfather guru of Paramahansa Yogananda is supposed to be hanging about the Himalayas somehow and has been doing this for an awful long time, supposedly.

There's more to heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Jack.

I found out this morning that I had been pencilled in for another engagement with flatheids tonight and freaked a little. Ruined the start of the day. It's been one flatheid engagement after another and I really, really want to meditate. So I finally got down to it at three today and the meditation was amazing. It has progressed again! Despite moi and the flatheids, it looks as if I could have a helluva day tomorrow.

I become more and more inspired by the lama. I'm so pleased I taught myself to meditate!!!!

Monday, 15 June 2009



That's probably my favourite photie! I have two copies of it at home. The lama will be on his eighth day in the dark. Only forty one days to go!

On Friday I had to do the kiddo's degree show and that meant going for a chinese meal afterwards. I think I had cabbage and white rice. What is the point of that, Jack? Well, it's to mark the occasion, Hotboy, and spend some time with the familial flatheids.

Because I had to be with Froggy McDuck and go to Bellshill on Saturday and get drunk with all the other McDucks ... I think I meditated for almost a minute on Saturday. This is very unusual, but in this case really unavoidable.

I tried to bail out around nine and went to the train station. There was a two hour wait for the next train. I wandered back into Bellshill and couldn't find my brother Silvest's house. I went to the pub and asked the people standing outside having fags where my brother lived. "It's the hoose wi' the nae curtains in the windows," the woman said, pointing.

It's eleven days till I get paid. Apart from bob hope funds, I have no real money to speak of, and I'm glad. The summer time sometimes presents similar difficulties to Christmas time in that the flatheids loose their moorings and you can't avoid talking to them when they want to have, for instance, holidays in Chilly Jockoland. That's why it would be great to do a three year retreat. Just tell the flatheids all to fung off and I'll see you in three years. I doubt if anyone is going to be battering on the lama's door anytime during the next forty odd days demanding he come out and get pissed.

Shame about the flatheids of course. Too dumb to meditate and they don't seem very happy, do they, Jack? Flatheids just don't get the bliss, Hotboy!

Friday, 12 June 2009

Hut Management!

Saturday 12:10 a.m.
I was speaking to some rich folk tonight. I was talking about bartering. Like, I think the folk who can do stuff should do it, and barter it. So I showed them the photies of the hut and said I could exchange fantastic amounts of praying, petitionary praying, if they would just use their bourgeois DIY skills to fix the hut. So that I wouldn't have to be bothered.

William the Conqueror established numerous monasteries in England so that the monks could pray for him and help him get over the slight problem he had with god due to being responsible for killing lots of folk.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me and my wee dog!

So the wee fat baldy guy was speaking to the emperor. Will I gain lots of merit from setting up all these monasteries and whatnot? No, says the wee fat baldy guy. Nope. No. No points. Nil points.

Somebody's going to have to fix the hut! So I should ask St Francis about this. St Francis, says I, what do you think of the hut? He says it is far too celestial this hut. And what's the matter with rats running over you at night? So I asked Milarepa. A hut, says he! What do you need a hut for?

But I have some kind of a hut. Properly qualified members of the working class should come, spontaneously, and fix the hut.

If I have to fix the hut, I will have to learn to do stuff, which I hate, and also I know that other folk are much better and more suited to doing this than moi. So I will barter it.

How many hours of meditation do you think it would take to repay someone fixing your hut, Hotboy? Well, Jack, the flatheids are all funged anyway. Since there is no merit to give, I'll meditate for a minute. What was the other thing the wee fat baldy guy said, Hotboy? He said fung off the lot of yous! I'm going to go and sit in my hut. I will do this. I will do this. I have six week's holidays coming up at the start of July. Even if it means that I have to cry and cry and cry, I will sit in the fung hut this summer. So I will!

Guru Yoga

Friday 12:10 p.m.
Here's an Australian joke. How do you get 50 Englishmen into a minicab? Make one the foreman and the rest will crawl up his ...

Nearly a million Englanders voted for a fascist party last week, so us up here in Chilly Jockoland can take the piss for a while!

You're supposed, I think, to develop devotion to your guru if you're doing the vajrayana, even if you're just busking it like moi. The auld maw once told me her children were all arrogant and impatient. Devotion to some other joe, especially one that's still alive, is a problem for the likes of me.

Ringu Tulku said experience was the same whether you were enlightened or not. I suppose the response to experience should be different, but you still have to wash your face and eat your dinner whatever. So it is a very impressive thing to subjugate yourself to 49 days and nights in the dark, whoever you are. And the man is no spring chicken. He's got diabetes.

When I asked the lama to be my guru, I told him about the other gurus I imagined in my meditations and he said: Concentrate on me. He pointed to his chest when he said that. Concentrate on me. I'm going to do a lot more concentrating on him till the drupcho comes in six weeks plus some.

Yesterday, I stuck with it though sometimes it was difficult due to the reverberations coming through from the Mr Hyde stuff. Nicotine withdrawals. Great desire to go out for fags and roll joints. But at the end of the day, when I hadn't done anything bad, I did a blistering training session in the full Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle and sank into a wonderful bliss then cannybliss bath. Such bliss!

I'm going to have to get my hut fixed before the month is out so I can stay in it without worrying about the ratty visitations in the night. I must do that this summer. I must try harder. I must.

It's a beautiful day today. Time to get the bread out of the oven!

The Kiddo!

Friday 10:50 a.m.
I'm going to the kiddo's degree show tonight. Her blog with the photies is here.
Dat's ma gurl!

Thursday, 11 June 2009

The view ahead!

Thursday 1:50 p.m.
I'm feeling much inspired by the lama doing this bardo retreat. He won't see the light again until the start of the drupcho at the end of July. I don't have any appointments till I attend the opening of the kiddo's degree show tomorrow evening.

Ars longa vita brevis

What a time I'm going to have between now and then, Jack! I'll be going to Bellshill with Froggy McDuck on Saturday, so tomorrow is mine as well. This is really a wonderful time in my life!

If I fall into a regular tobacco habit, it will kill me this time. So I won't. The dakini sailed down another sunbeam yesterday and gave me some bob, and I will not smoke it with tobacco. I will not! Neither will I drink beer. I will not! This is going to be a wonderful couple of days!

I made a loaf for the dakini yesterday. I don't usually give away loaves because most people cannot withstand the magical properties, but since she's a dakini I thought she'd be able to handle it.

Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!

Wednesday, 10 June 2009


Wednesday 23:55 p.m.
The wish that it may be made known that "I was the author" is the thought of a man not yet adult. The Dhammapada. The wall.

I've had a wonderful day and a wonderful evening.

I was so pleased that my child was a girl.

I think men should be like lions. They should lie around and eat and sometimes be killed by other males and that's alright. Women are much better at everything and should be encouraged to get on with it.

It's awful sunny and I'm insecure, but I've got on the hat that was given to me on the occasion of my fortieth birthday, and I had on the clip on shades. I was sitting outside the pub and the traffic was making a lot of noise. I was sitting with the dakini and her friend with the giant brain, and the other bits.

Brendan Behan said something like in the part of Dublin where he was brought up to get fed was a triumph, but to get drunk was a victory, or the other way around.

I had a joint in my top pocket and what with the beer, the dakini and her friend, I thought I might smoke it. I started to take it out of my top pocket. The dakini's friend said don't do that. No, no, said the dakini, this is not a good thing to do right now what with the proximity of the pub to the homestead and it is not Amsterdam. Except that was said by the friend of the dakini.

They were so right! You'd just want another one anyway. Restraint. Show some restraint. If you can't demonstrate restraint, it's good if the supporting deities tell you straight. Just don't do that. Stop it.

Tomorrow there is no jobbie. I can meditate all day tomorrow. Oh, ra bliss! What a wonderful day I'm going to have tomorrow! What a fortunate creature I am, I am! What a fortunate creature I am!

Tuesday, 9 June 2009


During lunchtime at the jobbie, I go and hide in the room they use for mass and meditate. I have to take a clock. So I checked my heartbeat. Sometimes I check my heartbeat when I waiting for the train in Bellshill station. If I've been sitting there for a couple of minutes, it usually runs at 60 beats a minute. I checked it at the lunchtime place today and it was running at 50 beats a minute. That's got to be a sign of reduced metabolic rate.

That's why I'm a fat basturn, Jack! So it's not the beer and the bread and the magic soup then, Hotboy? No! Meditation makes you a fat basturn! It's official.Don't go near it! Stay miserable and be skinny!

Just checked my calorie intake and whatnot. If I stop putting cheese on my breid, I should die of starvation. Even with the alcohol consumption.

The boy left school three years ago and came back to say hullo. He said they send you to Iraq or Afghanistan if they need you no matter how little training you've had. He said he didn't know how to fire the gun they gave him. Learned fast. On the second day there, he got stabbed in the back and shot someone in the head. Post traumatic stress disordered.

Thank God the warmongering basturns are all going to hell, Jack! Hell's too good for them!

Monday, 8 June 2009


Monday 9:30 p.m.
When I started boxing training, the man told me to kill myself on the roads. There's nothing quite like running for kicking the crap out of you. Last week I ran every day for about six days and by Thursday I was exhausted and crabbit, so I stopped. On Saturday I did the six rounds in the Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle and tonight I did the Ravelstone Dykes run. It took about forty five minutes, but I enjoyed it and felt good throughout. I think I can run again even though I am a fat basturn!

A Joe Less Ordinary

I got an email today saying that my root guru, Lama Yeshe Losal, started a bardo retreat yesterday. That's forty nine days spent in the dark. Thirteen years ago was the first time I spoke to him, shortly after he'd finished his second bardo retreat. Glowing. Beaming. I'm so pleased that I took refuge with him!

Sunday, 7 June 2009

Sunday Night

Sunday 8:04 p.m.
I'm the usual ordinary joe. The boy in this book I was reading was saying that you cannot expect to get the bliss and whatnot if you are an "ordinary person". He was talking about this other joe who started off meditating by being told to do walking meditations, and sitting meditations, and nothing else. This sounds like what happened to the English boy who went to the Theravadins and said he wanted to meditate. So that's what he had to do. Meditate. Nothing else. I think this is because the people teaching him to meditate know the results and I appreciate their method. Just fung do it. Stop greetin and moaning and groaning. Just fung do it.

Or, your life has a course and if you want to get the bliss towards the end, like moi, you'd better put in some efforts along the way and not meander through this existence like some fung moron.

I think this week I felt myself grow happier. I'm not worried about the wrong turns this juju might take. There's not going to be any wrong turns. Sometimes this week I might have felt a wee intimation of emptiness and that's going to make anyone happier since non-self and emptiness might mean that moi does not have to put up with so many afflictive emotions. Also, such bliss and joy in the meditations. Even if you're a disgrace to the juju and a bad boy like me, the bliss is bound to start hitting out into your everyday life eventually.

I hope I've given up writing this time. A couple of days ago when the connectivity was awry, I looked at the traffic warden book beginnings and started re-writing it, of course, straight away. No, no, no! Stay away! Anyway, I have noted that Alison Main is now broken out of her webpage and is becoming a writer in her own right on the internet. How odd! How appropriate. I'm too old to be bothered about being a successful anything. I'd much rather spend all my time investigating the bliss.

This is the part of the month when I succumb towards the lonely financial zone. I'm so happy with that right now. No bob hope and the booze is on the credit card. Purification and accumulation. I think from July (when I get six weeks holiday. Hurrah!) I will start to make home brew and get hold of a proper lamp for growing bob hope. This will solve my financial problems and allow me to get out a bit more.

The photie is of St Teresa. Bernini who sculpted it .. well, some people said he was portraying lust, but Bernini practised the spiritual exercises of Ignatius Loyolla, so he might have known about the bliss. I hope he did.

If in our culture there were tons of folk meditating all the time, no one would say a dumb thing like that about the sculpture. Why is the world so full of flatheids?

St Teresa is my favourite tim. She was a woman. The confessors she had, all men, were morons. Despite not being in a tradition which would have helped her, instinctively she might have known what she had to do, and she got it all. This is Bernini's idea of spiritual ecstasy. Well done!

Saturday, 6 June 2009

Saturday night!

11:27 p.m.
I spoke to someone rich about presentable men who are single, hopefully due to having had a partner demised in a tragic accident, but he was not very helpful. He said with a six figure salary joe, women invited themselves to the funerals of the demised and took it upon themselves to offer solace to the bereaved. So these joes are not on the market for very long. Hmmm?

I think that if everyone who read this bloggy thought that the josephine with the giant brain and also the other bits was going to find a suitable partner with a six figure salary then it would come to pass.

So, if for the next ten seconds you just thought that there should be a good resolution to this i.e. union and perfect synchronicity ...

We could try this with lottery numbers.

I spoke to some flatheids today. The nicest of people. Brunch. I've started eating brunch with folk to pretend I'm normal. Brilliantly bourgeous. Bourgeious. Bourgeois. Not only did they not know where you could get suitable single men, but they did not have any access to the bliss. This is very disappointing.

Is is not just selfish to want to go away and meditate on your own all the time, Hotboy? Jack, it is offensive to stick yourself into the public arena unless you have meditated for donkey's years. Wandering around with your head stuck up your backside and making frivolous conversationsal gambits ... well, they'll never get ra bliss. Oh, they'll never get ra bliss! Ee Aye Adio, they'll never get ra bliss. Non satis. Failed. Crap. Blew it. Made a fung mess of the whole gig. Died. Nae bliss. What a fung waste. What a disaster. Was it your fault? Who's fault could it have been had it not been yours?

Friday, 5 June 2009

Intermittent Reinforcement!

Saturday 00:47 p.m.
I think I am becoming happier. This would be facilitated by getting my yamas and my niyamas sorted out, but even at that ...

I have a few words with the auld maw after following her up the stairs, and she lies down on the bed, and I sit at the bottom of the bed and put on the Dhammapada CD... "And how many oceans of tears have we shed, you and I" ... The auld maw dozes off. She doesn't have to talk. She can doze off.

This is one relationship I have got right.

Saturday 11.35 a.m.
Computery connection is unstable. It makes you act like a pigeon in one of these experiments ... you try harder when it only works sometimes, and waste a lot of time. Now that I've got connected at last I've nothing to say. If I don't reply to emails unless I'm at the jobbie ....

Wednesday, 3 June 2009

Duelling Bosoms!

Wednesday 9:35 p.m.
Email to all staff on Tuesday just at jobbie's end: Tomorrow the computery things are bookable for every period except periods 4 and 5. Tomorrow is, of course, Friday. Only kidding. It's Wednesday. Hurrah!

The photies are of tattie beginnings, and the beginnings of goosegogs and cherries. The blossoms seem like only yesterday. I ate a goosegog yesterday. It was sour, but it was there on the 2nd of June. Till I ate it. I also ate a tottie wee tattie which I pulled up whilst weeding the onions.

She mentioned her large bosom twice inside the first five minutes of conversing with me. Where do you look, Jack? You look over her shoulder into the middle distance, Hotboy. She was wee, Jack, so I looked over her head. She was saying that the desired weight for someone her height was impossible due to the large bosom she had.

I was having the same problem myself so I could sympathise. After going two whole days and nights without anything other than the cannybliss yogurts, and having slayed the Nicotine Dragon once again, I was musing before getting up about having a few beers this evening...

I wasn't doing much running at all whilst at the diggings in April, but for the last three weeks or so Brian Wilson and moi have been running regularly. I've been running every day for the last five days. So I thought I might have trimmed down a little and maybe that would be another reason to allow myself some beers. Get out of bed and step on the scales for the first time in ages. What!

Are we back to having to fight Jack Dempsey, Hotboy? Might be able to make cruiserweight, Jack. Sometime soon. Fat basturn.

I've been running up Dundas Street - the five wee hills run - for nearly thirty years. The fastest I ever did it was 28 minutes. 33 or 34 minutes is also good. Tonight we ran it in 40 minutes, but that's because the auld fella I was running with is passed being able to keep track of the time. We took longer than 40 minutes. Dearie, dearie me. If I didn't have such a large bosom, I would have found running up the hills much easier, I'm sure.

She didn't call what she had a large bosom, Jack. Young women are really getting much more vulgar these days, don't you think?

The beer glass with tea in it sometimes looks like beer, but it isn't.

Monday, 1 June 2009

Vase Breathing again!

The dakini sailed down a sunbeam and gave me a half ounce of resin yesterday. She said she wasn't going to give it to me unless I promised not to smoke it with tobacco, but by that time I had the first joint half rolled. But I promised as of today that I would not smoke it with tobacco. I will not buy fags on the way home from the jobbie. I will not buy fags on the way home from the jobbie. I will not ....neither I will!

You're supposed to be telling the spam robots all about the bliss, Hotboy! What about the bliss?

I had a cannybliss yogurt last night and, before it came on, sat watching Terminator 3 with the domestic bliss. I did not wear my noise blockers, which I normally do whilst watching such as Terminator 3, but still started doing some vase breathing. Had to close my eyes to get a better look at what was going on.

What is going on? I do not know! The aftereffects of the breaths were disappearing into the far distance of complete improbability. I hadn't been doing too much meditating since Wednesday (for moi!) due to trying to fix the wireless connectivity and pretending to be normal and suchlike, but when I had time to dip back in, it had leapt forward once more. It was like a jacket over your jacket and then something else over that. I thought: This is transcendental!

I have no explanations and I don't know what is happening with this juju really, but I'm still marching towards the sound of gunfire. I must really try harder to find longer to sit this week. Smoking joints and drinking beer does not lend itself to mental calming! I will stick to the cannybliss yogurts this week. I will stick to the cannybliss yogurts. I will ...

The dakini has a friend who is finding it disagreeable to be single. Her friend is a shoo-in for membership of the Australian Ladies Volleyball Squad, has an IQ rating of an eyepopping 160, speaks five languages and earns a six figure salary ...

Hotboy, can't you get a face transplant, get your teeth fixed and rob a bank? Well, Jack, I think sometime you've just got to leave the squealing and yelling and bouncing up and down to the younger generation. Dearie me.

Anyway, we have a position for a heterosexual male who is presentable at least, earns a six figure salary, and can discourse on matters other than the footie, or trainspotting, or suchlike.

If anyone would like a subtle introduction to this wonderful josephine, that'll be ten percent off the top, or a large donation to the bob fund.

Albert, I know you are rich and not really as gay as you like to make out, but you should pass on this one. This dakini would not help with your lower back problems.

Time to go home! Time to go home! Swerving passed the fag shops!

11:36 p.m.
No tobacco and no alcohol. The computery thing is working again. And so off to bed. Hurrah!

The beautiful, wonderful city!

Having wakened up miraculously cured of the disease on Friday, and unable to go and see the auld maw, I spent the afternoon in the Botanical Gardens. The three photies at the bottom are from there. The three on the top are from the Hermitage of Braids. Two of the photies in the Botties are from spots where I was meditating. Two summers ago when it was less wet than in recent years, I spent many wonderful afternoons meditating in the Botanicals. On Saturday, in equally glorious sunshine, I was taken to visit the Hermitage of Braids, which is a fabulous place to walk through. I'm sure Edinburgh must be the best place in the world to live. A truly beautiful and wonderful city!

The computery thing at home is still down.