It should be interesting to see how your comedy translates into Indonesian is it? They'll probably think you're hilarious. I think you're going to be a superstar! I pledge $250 to help get you there and another $250 when you reach your destination.
My dear English Professor, this is not a dating site although the very idea has plenty of comic potential. If this were a dating site, I'd tell you that I find you to be somewhat emotionally manipulative which is probably the main reason that your sons distance themselves from you.
I've offered my help to you because I believed that you were totally broke and homeless. You must have been joking because you actually seem to have more options available to you then the homeless to whom my neighbor, Jen, provides outreach and assistance.
Anyway, even though you're an unreal real person, I don't want you to freeze to death even if it's just for comic effect.
This isn't the dating site? Dang, no one tells me anything.
I don't think I got emotionally manipulative till my sons were far away. Not sure how strong my manipulations are at a distance. Plus I'm no good at manipulating on the internet. For example, I could have sworn that five minutes ago I thought I saw you make a really good joke ("see him gone," is that even possible?) but who knows where that went. And then up there I see something I do remember writing, "well you do have a husband, so maybe this is for the best," but it's hard to tell if it's in the right context, because right above it you're offering financial help to an indigent. Though from the looks of it, a sort of ambitious indigent who wants to go to the other side of the world and get rich.
But wait, maybe that is the right context (I'm supposed to wait to have my first coffee till eight, so I'm only gradually coming alive here), and the joke could only work if I thought of you as a sort of sister, because otherwise I'm not seeing the humor. With a sister, one takes liberties, right? Not physical, obviously, just as on the internet the physical is not possible. And the more I think about it, the more I think that might be it. Never had a sister, so who knows, but I always figured with a sister you could joke about incest. Maybe that's not sisters. Maybe someone else. Comedy clubs? The tone certainly didn't work with Jane 333, who did not take kindly to my bantering in front of her subscribers. Four-thousand of them. That's like an amphitheater. No wonder her general line was Queen Victoria's "we are not amused." 4,000 is a kind of royal we, there are so many.
But assuming this were a dating site, surely my motives are pure in the usual male sense--aren't men typically accused of over-valuing the physical? I've never seen you, except in your seagull form, unless you count a picture that was so abstract I garnered from it only the general sense of non-African.
Which gets us down here to the whole question of plight.
At no point in my recent saga was I as homeless as I was in my days when I'd sleep on Toronto Island in a tent or in a sort of tent city made entirely of cardboard that I built in the back yard of a well-wisher downtown. I had a van. As for my aunt, and her rather large house, well, she once met Tonie and me at the grocery store (it was about a mile distant from her house and about that from our trailer) and she said that she'd been to the bank and the banker asked if she had any family in the region and she said that she'd said no.
A van is a huge space for a man who is used to a tent. But it has a drawback the tent doesn't have, which is that it's much harder to hide. On November 3rd, winter coming on, I had lost my cat, wife, house. Winter was coming on, I had no money. No family to turn to. Parents dead. No phone. No skills with technology. In fact my tech skills are so bad that anyone who knows how much I joke just assumes I'm joking when I talk about what I don't understand with computers. Because I used to be an environmental activist, the Americans have always put me in rooms and interrogated me when I enter the U.S. I think having an aging mom and a long history of going only to her house in Tennessee and back made it easier to get in. But I had no certainty that I could get in to the U.S. and get to my brother's house in south Texas. In fact the attempt could well mean the loss of the van. I was injured enough that it was unlikely I could go back to my old half-trade of being a painting contractor, and in any case my skills as an exterior painter on wooden New England houses don't easily translate indoors.
"Dave," says I, "you're in a pickle and make no mistake."
In a novel I wouldn't even need half this many reasons to get a character to off himself. But I stayed on. See my old joke somewhere about OFF lights being on.
Hey funny story is that I've had a half mug of warm water at my arm here and at some point in the middle of writing all that I knocked it on to the floor but kept writing despite all the clatter but just now I looked down at the mug and although half of that half of water was gone, the mug was upright. As if it were saying: all you need now is that coffee and maybe you'll have some pithy saying about opportunity and a glass half empty.
Nooooo, there is nothing funny about incest and joking about it is beyond poor taste. Inbreeding cousins are fair game but it's not really the same thing.
Anyway, yes, I was always a high-end street person back in the day. And I've always been a privileged person. Even in my cardboard days, I doubt I was suffering much more than when I was a professor. I am the blessed one. When I have problems it's not because I'm hard done by, it's because I forget that I'm the blessed one. I forgot hard that night sleeping in the van and wondering if I was going to get a ticket. I forgot hard in the next few days as it sank in that I'd lost my cat, and (close second to that) that the love of my life was dying and getting rid of me all in one grand gesture. But from an eternal-God point of view, such laments are comical as much as painful. That very next night my aunt relented and I stayed there temporarily, then someone thousands of miles away who seldom reads my Substacks just happened to see one of my plighty articles and boom, I had a house for the winter, and this very week someone else is apparently sending me an iPhone 11. And last night my intractable unhealable injury relented for about twenty seconds, enough to remind me how mental everything is. I'm scared and I want to turn the clock back a few months, but even I can recognize how I'm being pushed forward into scary new worlds.
Pure coincidence ( I would usually use a sly emoji here but have decided they they aren't acceptable to use when in communications with Dave )
Hey side note I found out why pirates wear eye patches, they actually have both eyes working. But whilst on deck in the sun they wear the patch on one eye, but.....if they need to duck down into the depths of the hull in the dark they switch the patch over to the opposite eye and that way the eye is conditioned to the dark and they can see below deck
Brilliant DDT! More please.
Really, more. Right up there with The Rum Diary!
I know ...it was just, what? Last week? He said after 45 years or so.
That's like the guy who said to his wife that he's going out to 7-11 for a pack of darts and was never seen again kinda vibe.
not seen again YET
It should be interesting to see how your comedy translates into Indonesian is it? They'll probably think you're hilarious. I think you're going to be a superstar! I pledge $250 to help get you there and another $250 when you reach your destination.
__
Well, you do have a husband, so maybe this is for the best.
My dear English Professor, this is not a dating site although the very idea has plenty of comic potential. If this were a dating site, I'd tell you that I find you to be somewhat emotionally manipulative which is probably the main reason that your sons distance themselves from you.
I've offered my help to you because I believed that you were totally broke and homeless. You must have been joking because you actually seem to have more options available to you then the homeless to whom my neighbor, Jen, provides outreach and assistance.
Anyway, even though you're an unreal real person, I don't want you to freeze to death even if it's just for comic effect.
freeze to death funny
I'm picturing Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining
This isn't the dating site? Dang, no one tells me anything.
I don't think I got emotionally manipulative till my sons were far away. Not sure how strong my manipulations are at a distance. Plus I'm no good at manipulating on the internet. For example, I could have sworn that five minutes ago I thought I saw you make a really good joke ("see him gone," is that even possible?) but who knows where that went. And then up there I see something I do remember writing, "well you do have a husband, so maybe this is for the best," but it's hard to tell if it's in the right context, because right above it you're offering financial help to an indigent. Though from the looks of it, a sort of ambitious indigent who wants to go to the other side of the world and get rich.
But wait, maybe that is the right context (I'm supposed to wait to have my first coffee till eight, so I'm only gradually coming alive here), and the joke could only work if I thought of you as a sort of sister, because otherwise I'm not seeing the humor. With a sister, one takes liberties, right? Not physical, obviously, just as on the internet the physical is not possible. And the more I think about it, the more I think that might be it. Never had a sister, so who knows, but I always figured with a sister you could joke about incest. Maybe that's not sisters. Maybe someone else. Comedy clubs? The tone certainly didn't work with Jane 333, who did not take kindly to my bantering in front of her subscribers. Four-thousand of them. That's like an amphitheater. No wonder her general line was Queen Victoria's "we are not amused." 4,000 is a kind of royal we, there are so many.
But assuming this were a dating site, surely my motives are pure in the usual male sense--aren't men typically accused of over-valuing the physical? I've never seen you, except in your seagull form, unless you count a picture that was so abstract I garnered from it only the general sense of non-African.
Which gets us down here to the whole question of plight.
At no point in my recent saga was I as homeless as I was in my days when I'd sleep on Toronto Island in a tent or in a sort of tent city made entirely of cardboard that I built in the back yard of a well-wisher downtown. I had a van. As for my aunt, and her rather large house, well, she once met Tonie and me at the grocery store (it was about a mile distant from her house and about that from our trailer) and she said that she'd been to the bank and the banker asked if she had any family in the region and she said that she'd said no.
A van is a huge space for a man who is used to a tent. But it has a drawback the tent doesn't have, which is that it's much harder to hide. On November 3rd, winter coming on, I had lost my cat, wife, house. Winter was coming on, I had no money. No family to turn to. Parents dead. No phone. No skills with technology. In fact my tech skills are so bad that anyone who knows how much I joke just assumes I'm joking when I talk about what I don't understand with computers. Because I used to be an environmental activist, the Americans have always put me in rooms and interrogated me when I enter the U.S. I think having an aging mom and a long history of going only to her house in Tennessee and back made it easier to get in. But I had no certainty that I could get in to the U.S. and get to my brother's house in south Texas. In fact the attempt could well mean the loss of the van. I was injured enough that it was unlikely I could go back to my old half-trade of being a painting contractor, and in any case my skills as an exterior painter on wooden New England houses don't easily translate indoors.
"Dave," says I, "you're in a pickle and make no mistake."
In a novel I wouldn't even need half this many reasons to get a character to off himself. But I stayed on. See my old joke somewhere about OFF lights being on.
Hey funny story is that I've had a half mug of warm water at my arm here and at some point in the middle of writing all that I knocked it on to the floor but kept writing despite all the clatter but just now I looked down at the mug and although half of that half of water was gone, the mug was upright. As if it were saying: all you need now is that coffee and maybe you'll have some pithy saying about opportunity and a glass half empty.
--david
Nooooo, there is nothing funny about incest and joking about it is beyond poor taste. Inbreeding cousins are fair game but it's not really the same thing.
Incest is relative.
Anyway, yes, I was always a high-end street person back in the day. And I've always been a privileged person. Even in my cardboard days, I doubt I was suffering much more than when I was a professor. I am the blessed one. When I have problems it's not because I'm hard done by, it's because I forget that I'm the blessed one. I forgot hard that night sleeping in the van and wondering if I was going to get a ticket. I forgot hard in the next few days as it sank in that I'd lost my cat, and (close second to that) that the love of my life was dying and getting rid of me all in one grand gesture. But from an eternal-God point of view, such laments are comical as much as painful. That very next night my aunt relented and I stayed there temporarily, then someone thousands of miles away who seldom reads my Substacks just happened to see one of my plighty articles and boom, I had a house for the winter, and this very week someone else is apparently sending me an iPhone 11. And last night my intractable unhealable injury relented for about twenty seconds, enough to remind me how mental everything is. I'm scared and I want to turn the clock back a few months, but even I can recognize how I'm being pushed forward into scary new worlds.
You should probably have surgery if you have a hernia. Is it a hernia?
"If this were...I'd tell you that I find you to be somewhat emotionally manipulative..."
Well thank goodness it's not.
Far out !! You must really want to see him gone !! Good on you, that's heart warming.
See him gone? Is that even possible?
Your joke even has an elegant attention to detail, like the “far out!” I just noticed.
Pure coincidence ( I would usually use a sly emoji here but have decided they they aren't acceptable to use when in communications with Dave )
Hey side note I found out why pirates wear eye patches, they actually have both eyes working. But whilst on deck in the sun they wear the patch on one eye, but.....if they need to duck down into the depths of the hull in the dark they switch the patch over to the opposite eye and that way the eye is conditioned to the dark and they can see below deck
ha! I saw this comment out of context at first, so I had to put down my coffee and find out where it was coming from and to. It was worth the trip.
Can I get an Amen? I mean DM.
You’re most excellent brother was here yesterday. Or maybe the day before. Time, am I right?