posted on April 8, 2007 at 10:09 pm

easter monday morning
i ring my little duckling in dela-where?
but shes busy putting bumper to sleep
and that can be a fiddly n tricky task
sometimes the bumper pretends to go to sleep
so as you sneak out
she can open her eyes
stare at you sadly..
pack yer bags..youre going onna guilt trip
i listened to both gilt trips the other day actually
i reckon i’d like em if say
rikki mon-ami from the braying jungstown madagascar
say he stuck gilt trip on my pod
and i stumbled upon it
the way i stumble on all these other great things
he put in my pod
but no wundah the music biz is going down ye olde draine
i mean
i dont even go in the ten dollar cd shop no more
note to non aust residents:
full price cds are about 30 bucks here
but i mean i sat around my anonymous friends house lassanite
we was thinking of the most obscure stuff
we could think of
i remembered seeing an advertisement for a band called affinity
back in 1970 in the nme
so i say see if they got affinity
i mean iesus christos
affinity is gotta be pretty rare
mwps got it
i wouldnt be surprised
but sure enuff
the internets got it
we’ll have that
its blurb reads psychedelic jazz blah folk pop fusion
(read: its probably atrocious bullshit)
but hey you want rarity
i read somewhere that true fans
will buy music if by their faves
and especially if “indy”
even tho they could get it for free
(hint hint)
no no
i trust you fiends
its like subscrbing to this blogge
some people
they know who they are
i know who they are
have been ridiculously generous
and i do most ‘umbly thank ’em
others have been very fair
and to them i again say thank ye kindly
these people have more than made up for those
who dont care to subscribe
and thats how life is
you winsome
you lose sum
if it was me i probably wouldna gotten around to paying either
fuck i dont even thank the people properly for gifts theyve sent
like memmy mem from memland
a copy of gospel of judas
but also in a cover handpainted
with bottle of jaeger on front
n can of red bullshit on back cover, lover
i must say this mem
its hard to read
with the gaps n fragments n footnotes
i mean it aint:
hi im judas iscariot
and last nite
jesus h christ walked on yonder water baybee
i mean the nazarene he was aqua-ambulating y’all
no its like a few words n then copious footnotes
which say that the word “love” you just read, say
actually in this aramaic or hebrew or whatever
those cats were talking in
well it says love could also mean hate
or loathing
or it could mean flowerpot or riverbank
and a lot of scholars are going for the vase option…
can you dig this broken up narrative that judas ends up being
im afraid i temporaraly stalled
ive started american gods by neil gaiman
which rusty swears is a good book
it better be rusty
i dont wanna find out at 18 ooo miles over borneo
that this books boreing me to teers
but the letters are printed big
and thats a start
at least
this arvo
me n powlesy koppes n johnno
our lighting man from the last 20 odd yeers
n mrs tp
will all fry to london via some singer-poor
or bang cock!
one or the other
to start our euro tour
now im hoping to have a treat for y’all
i said hoping didnt i
im gonna take my camera n try n post some pics
as i flounce around europa
visiting places i hope the jazz is gonna flow
thats right if you coming to our say
transylvanian gigs
and you think boy itll be hard for the olde being
to do any jazz numbers tonight
and you think
hey my uncle hugo left a stash of sweet jazz
in my top drawer
then please please
children of the night
bring it on home
a different kind of subscriber you shall be deemed, childe
yes a jazz donor for all time exonerated of pecuniary payments
just knock on the door n say
jazz sent me
but beware
in the u.s.
naughty people using invoking name of sacred jazz
coming thru door n saying whoops no jazz but anyway….
well let me say
i frown on that behaviour most solemnly
and have been known to lash out emotionally
at such wags n trickstahs
obviously in holland for example
this jazz service is self service
so no need to help there
but otherwise
look at me
calling out
loud as thunder
i should be suiting my pack case
i should be watering the goldflowers
n feeding the fishplants
i should be washing up
washing down
washing around n around
rinsing off
rinsing on
rinsing yer daughter
rinsing yer son
sweeping the floor
flooring the taxi
get to the airport
sit on the planey-waney
please mr captain with yer goldstripes n peeked hat
fly me safely if not for my sake
then for all them kids i got
and all my blogfiendss
broken harted if their tb
bites the dust in some awful crash
let him have his vegan food
not to be hassled by gay stewards
or kicking brats behind
nor persons overflowing into his seat
when he needs to sleep
when hes thru pacing the isles n aisles
and watching the stars
n lights of distant cities behind their walls of chloroform
make the olde being so lonely so lonely
next posty will be from bewda-pesto

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