Friday 4:35 p.m.
While the staffordshire bull terriers in the cages in the back garden of them next door who've neither worked nor wanted yapped and whined, the auld maw was telling me about how the son of Mr W. had "bottled" the son of Mr L.. Three of Mr L's other sons went round to the house of Mr W. and stabbed him and his two sons, but only Mr W. required hospital treatment. It's useful sometimes to come from a big family, so it is.
Having lost practically all of yesterday to flatheids (Oh, my wonderful Thursday!), I was a bit crabbit today, but that didn't matter. When we were listening to the lama on a CD, great oddles of the bliss were arising and some heat. Despite moi, progress is still going on!!
The flatheid told me that if you could get the bliss, rapture and ecstasy by taking a pill, he'd take it. If you had to do something like meditate, he wouldn't bother. The grief, sorrow, lamentations ... delusions, disappointments and despair .. suffering in this life is what he thinks existence is about. Of course, he does take heavy duty anti-depressants already.
What can I do about flatheids, Jack? Get a gun, Hotboy. Either that or beg the Alien Creatures from Outer Space to take you back to your own planet, the one where there are no flatheids and the women all show great enthusiasm, and don't complain about the mess!
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Whilst stumblebumming towards enlightenment ...I am a novelist, one time playwright, and trying to practice the great vajrayana
4 comments:
The Bells Hillbillies. Nice to know there's some places in the world where nothing ever changes.
Which bliss pill is the heavy duty flatheid on?
Albert? The home towners have never recovered from Maggie Thatcher. It's much worse there than it was in my day. I'm too polite to ask what kind of bliss pills. They don't seem to involve any bliss. This country is filled with greetin faced, dour, mean calvinist basturns who were never born to be happy. Not enough of them have emigrated. Hotboy
Albert? I must apologise for the above comment which must have been made when I'd turned into someone else due to some kind of ingestion. I hope you are still a ray of sunshine, Albert. Hotboy
Hotters, being more of a happy oompah bavarian than a dour jock, I took no offence, until you drew attention to it in your next comment.
The doleites next door who don't believe in doing things, should surely have achieved blissmeisterhood by now. Or if only they'd heard of the Protestant ethic, they could have contributed something to the world. Maybe bred a better bull terrier, one that eats useless old relatives.
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