this too shall blow me

[Whorella Mundane]

today's breakfast: four xanax - make that seven for good luck, 1 vivarn, ice tea, marlboro light and i'd kill for a tootsie roll.

 

it is time to clean the basement and work on the semi-neglected yard. it's just been raining so much thati couln'dt do it. there's tons of stuff to do out there. i ran out of weed-whacker string and had to fly to the hardware store for that. and i decided to keep the lights on the forest on the porch because two people who were driving down the street stoped their cars to look and completment me.

 

but it was so late by the time i got thr string, that decided it was pretty fun to mow the lawn at night. but anyway ...

 

and i hate to admit the combination on drugs puts me in the

perfect state of feeling. just this ... relief. and that

makes me very happy. oh and it's 50 degrees and the first totally

perfect sunny day i've had in so long. so i'll help my sister get

her kitchen set up most efficeintly and set up their beds

and then pack boxes of their stuff here

 

and then i am free. i can clean the basement. go through

all my drawers and clothes. give tons of stuff to the goodwill.

and slowly repair my house. i'll be able to get up at 4 am

without waking anyone and i'm going to write a book.

 

but i am writing to gordie for help.

for some reason i really trust him.

he might have had some valid critisms

and i'd trust him to help smooth out

the rought edges. but i need a jump start.

just this huge motivation. and it will require

very little time. just read a chapter. write

suggestion etc. and so much is about him.

i think it's only fair to ask him to be involved.

 

i'm not going to tell him how the writer's heart in me

is kinda of broken and has lost a lot of hope

and that he alone could give me that. because

it's too much like blackmail.

 

i think he'll do it. and i'll be so energized

by the thrill of being writing for him,

always trying my best to please him.

to be worthy of all of that.

 

and i'll do that god damn walk at 4m

and yeah the cemetery is kinda scary

but i'll carry pepperspray but no one

really goes in there besides other joggers.

 

then come home. by five-thirty i'll be bathed

scretched, do a little weight-lifting and write

until 8:30.

 

i will come home around 5:30 and clean.

tend to bills. around 6 i'll have dinner going

6:15 i'm done. and then i can write

untit 9. sure sometimes i'll have to go to the grocer store

but i can walk down to the strip at lunch for that.

get a lunch i take home for dinner.

 

but i have to do this. so may people count on me.

i wish madge would be around for when it finally gets done

but she ... had to split on her own life.

she has a lot of friends and is very nice and do

nice little things for them but i'm kinda just there.

she would help other friends move but not us.

so i just feel there is this clear wall that

i'm not really her best friend and yet she loves me

holds on to me because she knows friends

aren't always what they seem and she knows

if anything ever happened to her, that i'd take

care of her.

 

see a big thing is that she likes going places

i have no interest in going. and she asks me

to go to places but knows i never want to go.

just a lot of things she does, i don't want to do.

and when she's with jolene, they love all this

stuff like bubble tea and glitter and kittens

that i don't really like and feel like a dick for it.

 

so i do feel like my sister is my best friend.

i mean she does all kinds of stuff for me.

she takes care of my dad. of everyone.

 

madge said she was just a bad person

and that's why she never helped us move,

even thought cindy did a lot for her

before we had a car and stuff.

but her other friends, she'll help them.

other friends who never lent her a credit

card or drove her to the giant eagle.

so i don't get it.

 

but it's not that big of a deal.

madge is a good girl. but

it is a matter of time before

she's in a different universe than i

and will be leaving. she's saving

all her money for her own business.

totally moving on. all on her own.

not like we're spouses and discuss these things.

she has established herself as separate in some way.

i have no choice ... but to just accept it.

 

and then in the future, when my own life

comes to fruition, she'll be off on her own life

and then i'll be in mine and never the two

shall really meet. not after watching her

just do what she has to. and her friends are

just so different than people i feel comfortable

about and she just doen'st understand it's

not arrogance ... just this uncomforableness.

awkwardness. always afraid of drawing too much

attention to myself. suddenly unsure of everyhing

i say and do. it's not ... fun for me, you know.

 

i feel weird ... i haven't been posting,

even after seeing people be really nice to me.

well maybe that's the way to get rid of me.

i mean people are posting off top. even been friendly.

maybe my work is done here.

 

maybe i just can't think of anything to say

because my mind is turning.

 

today, saturday, i go shopping for kitchen shelves

for my sister. i''ll get her kitchen set up.

get the beds assembled. and now it's only 50 degress

and the new place has air conditioning so they will be leaving.

 

and as much as i seem to hurt when i am all alone -

but this is the first time. i was alone awhile before kathleen

moved in when madge left before - partially blaming me

as she had to get  away from my shit and

she needed to expand her boundaries and

learned how uncool people can be until it comes down

to the ulmighty dollar and back she came.

 

and i just can't imagine her in my life forever.

she'll move into a new circle of friends.

already she spends more time with them

than me. i'm just always here. edith bunker.

and there's nothing i can do. i see what's happening

and think the day she has to move will

be no surprise. and i do only wants what's best for her,

but if she moves into this upper echelon ... i just

don't belong there. she does great with them.

i just feel weird. even though marty in her band is cool.

and so is rene. i just don't think he other friends really

like me very mugh because of my big writing success

and they just think i'm an asshole.

 

and i don't give a fuck what they think.

my writing was excellent. not how you're

supposed to write, but man it *worked*.

i was an instant hit. damn right.

 

i haven't been writing ... i haven't even wanted to.

see ... strange things come and go in my mind

and sometimes ... i just have nothing to say.

 

i sit down and start writing. i have 7 posts

all written that just didn't seem worth posting.

but it's satureday ... which means i get my house back.

i'll help my sister get totaly perfectly organized

this weekend and then on monday, a new life

begins for me. and i'm scared that i don't have

it in me to ... finish a book.

 

but i can not deny now is the time.

the darkening days. the isolation of winter.

it is time. it is time. no more fucking around.

 

and it's such a complicated issue

part of me wants to get out there

and fight the good fight.

another part of me just wants to document

my daily life as a normal person,

not a *writer*. just some invisible

unimportant person.

 

but if i do that, it's no good for anyone.

and the world is so apparently in need

of another soldier in the good fight.

especially me because i did have some

kind of quality that caused a huge reaction

yet i play that down all the time

and pretend it's not even there.

becaue i don't know what it it.

and yet no other paper -

well all the old writers from the

in pittsburgh went to the city paper

but me. didn't want me. too much.

i did write one thing for them

but i was no longer allowed to write

in first person. how dare they? fuck that.

 

but i never thought i had it in me

to just tone it down, ruin the magic

there, to be published.

 

but i'll finally be able to finish my sister's house.

 

oh they'll love me for it. hang pots

and pans on the wall. buy a shelf that hangs

from the pantry door for more storage.

buy shelfves small counter with drawers and shelves.

 

then i will put their beds together.

then .. they will be gone. and i do love

being with them ... but i need time along

to write. well maybe the nonwriting this week

was just because i don't get a minute alone.

i try and write while they talk to me but

it's too distracting.

 

look ...i've been talking about doing this for along time.

but winning never quits. i have never given up.

i have never stopped writing.

 

just so much shit happened. the flood.

the robberies. leo's knee surgery. my sister moving in.

helping her move. having lolo all summer.

work kicking my ass.

 

well. leo is gone.

and he's doing great. already has a girlfriend.

and is definately going to join this fraternity.

 

and lately not writing ... well

it comes from ... a hopelessness.

sometimes i read the news and am just so

overwhelmed by the brutality i see there.

and i just simply can't wrap my brain around it.

why? what makes us like this?

 

and i can come up with endless reasons

but none offer a solution. so sometimes i feel like

just giving up. if i just stopped writing,

i could have friends again. i could go to friends

houses for dinner. maybe see a movie.

go the gym with madge and rene. do more things

for my dad and sister. i could work more in the house

and yard. just have a normal life where i'm not

tied to this ... need to do this.

 

but i just feel it's so important to do this,

but sometimes ... well i start wrinting posts

and it's just so boring i can't finish.

 

when i feel kinda hopeless and worn down

and useless. it all relates to gordie.

for how sorry i am that i needed him so

and think ... i need ... to do the impossible

and cleanse my brain of him but then i fear

there's nothing ... but blandness left.

 

i'm just so sick of the shit i see in the world

and how unopposed it all goes. how people either don't

care or are too beat to care or just don't care

as long as they got a warm bed and meals.

 

can you imagine killing your own son,

to spite your wife? poor kid's out running

with his cross-country team in high school

and here comes dear old dad with a gun

and blows the kids away.

 

i guess there will be no more custody desputes.

the father later killed himself.

 

 

okay well never mind i'm usually all happy on zannies

but ... not after reading that bye

 

[Centricity Imaging]

We were high... We were Sherpa High...
--
Sincerely,

 

Scott Russell
Centricity Imaging
www.centricity.ca

"Whorella Mundane" <whor...@hellokitty.com> wrote in message news:Qzl6b.3993$w41....@nwrdny02.gnilink.net...

..........

i feel weird ... i haven't been posting,

even after seeing people be really nice to me.

well maybe that's the way to get rid of me.

i mean people are posting off top. even been friendly.

maybe my work is done here.

 

and lately not writing ... well

it comes from ... a hopelessness.

sometimes i read the news and am just so

overwhelmed by the brutality i see there.

and i just simply can't wrap my brain around it.

why? what makes us like this?...........

 

[Whorella Mundane]

eat drink and be merry

for tomorrow we bathe!

 

hi. i miss being here.

soon my life will be normal again.

and i can write more but right now,

i'm still helping my sister and getting

my house and yard back in order.

and still going to see leo and all of that.

 

but here's a post.

 

psst ... my letter to gordie's 20 pages long

but i gotta admit ... it's really a good letter.

i'm not sure how he'll take it

but it's a damn fine letter

if i do say so myself!

 

but today it's sunny and beautiful

and i still hate going to work

and i never eat and keep losing weight

but still am fat so that amuses lolo

but ... wow. i feel ... happy.

but it's the morning. wait a few hours

after working and it'll be gone but for now

 

HI CARLA!

 

from last night:

 

were you ever so tired you just wanted to sit and cry?

just so overwhelmed by the amount of work to be done

each and every day?   

 

i haven't been posting because i never take breaks at work

and had to sign off when i was talking to scott and t-bone

on IM. so rude of me but ... i get calls at work that are

instant panic and this girl was trying to submit

a 1.5 million dollar print job but the quote kept saying

3 million dollars and my eyes just roll in my head

and there's no one there who can help me.      

 

then i drive home. that's the only time i get to talk to madge

anymore. driving to and from work.

and she's making her purses for the big show

in toronto and i'm ... still doing tons of stuff for leo

and every day after work, i go to my sister's.

 

they just ... can't pack so tight. they just don't know

how to organize things so i have to help them.

so yesterday i got lolo's bunk bed put up

and got the frame for my sister's bed assembled

but suggested she get a new liner before

we put the mattress in. it's a waterbed.

 

and the mattress has baffles and is really heavy

and hard to lift. and my rock star boyfriend,

well ex. but for me to say "ex" with "boyfriend"

is redundant.

 

you know what i ate today?

4 pieces of licorice. not complaining.

 

i just ... see halos around lights

and feel like i'm tripping from lack

of sleep and food and i kinda  like it. 

 

so my sister's bed is done.

lolo's bed is done.

i finished putting the computer desk together

and got her cable modem working. 

 

i love them so much. so much.

but they had a big fight.

my sister hit lolo. first time.

smacked her right across the face!

 

i say the girl got off easy considering

how she can try the soul and for how hard

her mom tries to do everything for her.

 

she barely hit her. but lolo *wailed*

but then it was all love and happiness.

 

but yeah so bob's friend was there

and he said that bob's wife no longer sings

with the band and that the old band is back together.

god i'd love to hear dave sing again.

 

i just feel ... so weird.

i became this big writing success and they loved

my column and now i'm just some software schmuck.

and they are all of course married.

 

i think ... i'm too mental to be married.

not mental enough to get my student loans

expunged or anything. but too ... much.

i guess i can accept that. because i basically have

the most fun out of anyone. even all by myself.

especially all by myself when it's just me

and gordie and he totally laughs at everything i do.

 

anyway ... tomorrow i can't go to my sister's.

the insurance investigator is coming on thursday

morning so i have to dig up receipts and have the house

looking all nice since i get robbed but i'm the one

being fucking investigated. i'm not pleased.

but i won't take it out on this poor guy.

 

but i explained the story and i think he understands

what happens. we did everything we could.

now leo's in college -

 

160 phone bill for his first month there!

jesus christ. i know he was lonely and shit.

i know it won't happen again.

 

he's so happy. i mean i've ... never seen anything

like it. so ... it's hard to hide my financial worries

but i always figure out the money thing.

 

now that i'm alone, i never put on the AC

and i'll keep the heat really low and never

turn on lights and i don't cook or even eat.

 

yeah i lost four more pounds. i'm just wasting away

to nothing! but my sister ... needs me. and she

runs around like crazy for everyone so i'm going

to make sure they are squared away.

 

but then i come home and have to take out

fifty bags of trash from the basement.

then water the yard. sweep the walks.

put the hose away. and now ... here i am.

 

i made a chicken pot pie that i have no desire to eat.

just some pelligrino water and a cigarette, of course.

 

i smoke about five a day. two yesterday.

can't complain.

 

don't even smoke pot that much.

 

but ... i drive around here and get tears in my eyes

when i see ... the utter waste of human life.

and when i hear people dog america,

i think they're dogging the spent and it hurts.

 

all this money they want for more wars

and ... my sister works for the housing authority

now and the stories of these people ... i just

can't ... understand it. i just can't.

 

what is the point of this world

that some are so blessed and others so forgotten?

 

ben franklin said that if you don't want to be forgotten

the moment you're dead and rotten, to write.

and to do things worth writing about.

i dont' know if watering my flowers counts

but there you go.

 

i want to do something political again

but ... have no where to do it.

there's no political party that i can get behind.

and even when i had a significant voice in this city

 

well i guess it mattered to some people.

show them they could do more than they imagine.

that's all i wanted, really.

if i could do it, anyone could.

 

but i am glad i'm so physically strong

so i can do all the lifting and assembling

and moving and cleaning and planting.

 

so ... i don't know. i got all my files organized

and in so doing i think i deleted the letter i wrote to gordie.

that's probably good. i can start again.  

 

i have written so much ... it's amazing.

but sometimes ... everything you fought for is naught.  

but i write it down. that's all i know.   

i just don't think the planet can sustain

north america and western europe and australia's

standard of living. and these days of plenty

will be the stuff of our children's children's children's

dreams unless we get out shit together and i don't

see that happening as a species.

 

we don't seem designed for it.

i say we take all our fucked-up-ness

and just minimize the damage

instead of trying to find some miracle cure

but if there's a glory in miracles ...

 

i just wish ... those bastards in washington ...

well. i don't know. i swear to god i'll throw

myself back in the fray one of these days

but ... i need gordie. i don't know how to solve

for that. if that's fair of me. oh this is enough

to make me weep but i'm going through with my plan

and if i don't hear from him, it's gonna be a brutal winter

but ... it's all about adaptation, eh?

 

i'll find beauty in it oh yes i will.

i'll assume only the best of his silence

and imagine anyday now he'll call.

i could do that for years and i think indeed i have.

so how's that for tricky? kind of an illusionist

i think. a hunger artist of sorts. spent-ass crazy woman.

yeah. but he puts me in such a *dreamy* state o' mind.

nothing can really hurt me there, you know?

 

it's ... sacred to me. how's that?

wouldn't want to be too over the top

but ... he is a gift shop.      

 

do you know how *precious* that is to me?

and gordie said when him and his new band

make music they try not to let any song

get too precious but see there, you'd have to be that way

or you could endlessly debate how a song could go

and when other people are involved, you kinda gotta

hang back. but ew i curse myself because

 

i was trying to fall asleep and i am so happy

that my son is happy. it is ... a kind of peace i haven't

had in my whole life even though i worry about

money but still. he's ... doing great. he's 700 feet tall.

he had a girlfriend - and he is not a womanizer.

he'd never data a fat chick but he totally wants

a girl of his own and to be in love and get married

and make me granny whorella.

 

but i was trying ... to pray.

to thank god. and ... i am so grateful to the universe

and my own good fortune kind of punctuates the pain

i see around here everyday. i know ... how lucky i am.

and i just wish the fortunate of the world understood

how lucky it was. take time off from patting

its back and hold out a hand to a man in need,

regardless of the cause. 

 

the people at work and their bullshit formulas for success.

you're just lucky. if you have an ounce of energy in a day

to just face the fucking drive to work, you're lucky.

 

and sure go ahead and exercise and eat right

and pretend it makes this massive difference

but just the slightest biological change in your body,

going on without your consent or knowledge,

and you ... can't get out of bed in the morning.

you can't face another day.

 

i saw it happen to rob.

i'll never be the same.

it's quite a precarious world so why not 

bet the ranch on gordon downie

and trust the man to lend a hand?    

 

but i have not sent him a letter in a long, long time.

so this is a kind of ... plunging over the falls for me.

oh think about it. can you imagine writing to the bastard

and being like 'hey i'm writing a book about you

and i need you to help so could you take some time

from your already enormous responsibilities

and help me because i'm a big fan?"

 

quite precocious of me but i think it could make him

really happy. i think ... he would like being

on the editorial side of things. especially with my

writing. i know there were things he wanted me to tweak.

something that bothered him and now i'm just giving

him the chance to help me *grow* as a writer.

and if he doesn't feel my *gift* for garnering attention

for my insights and compassion and anger

are worthy of his time, then that will be that.

then i gotta go to toronto and hunt him down

 

only kidding only kidding.

why start now?

  

but when i was watering the pumpkins and flowers,

well ... water doesn't really have color

but it does at night ... ever tiny droplet absorbing

the orange glow of the streetlights

or the violet light of the porch light ... and it's so gentle

and soft and i got all wet and know it's the end of summer.

time to buy socks. hate that. but just as gordie isn't real,

and that's what makes me feel guilty.

i love ... him so much but i don't know him

so it's not fair or considered real but it is everywhere

absorbing all the colors of my world

and the tears. and on nights like tonight,

when i'm so *tired*, it just comforts me

in a way that strengthens me.

 

my nails are destroyed. i have bruises and cuts

all over me. bloody knuckles. bruised knees.

my god. cleaning can be hard!

 

but the basement ... i just stand there and stare.

it only took 50 xanax! in three days.

i'm a bad carla for that.

 

but my sister is like 'so you take mad amounts

of the pills but when they're gone, you don't care.'

 

yeah. it's like i'm addicted but only for a weekend.

i have ten left for this weekend when i clean

this apartment and especially the kitchen cupboards.

all the food is going.

 

shit i have to go see leo. damn i forgot.

have to go to get office supplies. printer cable.

 

and now he's too busy with his new girlfriend

and his fraternity friends. it's amazing that he's my son.

my mom talked to him and the kid is so happy

and so into college. so i should be so happy

and i am. and my sister and lolo can both sleep

in their beds tonight and that makes me happy.

 

and i am so lucky for so many things

and am just tired and i ...

 

well i went to the unimart for cigarettes

and i saw this young man ... who was so ... wasted

 

like he was barely moving. a breath from dead.

his soul, his spirit so ... squashed ... and i get out of this

little red chick suv dressed in my business casual clothes

and feel like such a dick because there is nothing i can do

except go get the fucking cigarettes and get back in the car

and at least know your sister is sleeping on her own bed again

for the first time in two months and you took care of her

and lolo's happy and my son is happy and madge is happy

so i should be.

 

i'm just ...

 

wow. soon i'll be menopausal and i can blame everything

on that shit! oh yes mother nature will shut down the baby

factory and i'll be able to wear the same panties 'till i die!

 

ew my sister bought me some shiny blue drawers!

she's always giving me shit. you know ... i hate

xanax in some way because ... it steals your memories.

i can only remember bits and pieces

of cleaning the basement. yet i'm grateful for that.

 

i just do everything as if one day gordon downie will see it

and he will be so amazed at how clean my basement is.

 

i seriously think this shit and i sound crazy

but i gotta tell you it makes the whole ordeal so fun

somehow. you can have entire conversations with him

about what a good job you did. how everyone should

have a basement like yours. that he's never seen a basement

so clean in his life. even in a brand new house!

it's cleaner than a museum.

it's so clean it should be sealed off

so human hands can not destroy it's vast

cleanliness and amazing organization.

 

everything ... so perfect. there's so much room down

there now and when you walk in barefoot, nothing sticks

to you! the floor is perfect!

 

i have a Rigid shop vac.

that's the name.

now tell me the market there isn't men.

 

me and the rigid girl

as we vacuum the stars from the skies

just for our eyes ...

 

i just found the gordie letter i think i lost

and it is ... a very good letter. it really is.

i lay it all out there like i never did.

like i can't do hear

 

aw you already know anyway

but it's far more ... well.

 

i just write my best for just him.

okay i'm fucked for this, right?

i suck, right? i have this feeling that i do

but i don't know why.

 

you only suck if you do something

that hurts someone else, intentionally.

with malice. 

 

yet i can't find the seed of that in any thought.

there's no ambition of that kind.

 

there is only ... that i love who i am

when i write to him and about him.

 

and i just can't figure out what's wrong about it

but something must be because ...

 

well all these years he could have called.

but all those years he wore that GD shirt.

 

great conflict, isn't it?

perfect fucking story, isn't it?

rock star love in america.

it's almost too perfect

 

and yet it is such a beautiful story.

so sad and tragic at times.

 

oh the men this music delivered to my door

from the internet. one ... was seriously considering

killing me but instead killed himself.

 

that was five years ago and ... i just don't think

you ever forget and that the memories ... will always

bring tears or smiles ... oh those moments

you expect the least or the most.

 

i'm sorry. i'm sorry i feel the way i do about this

thing with gordie. because there's something

wrong with it but i don't know what.

 

oh okay maybe it's immature

but if it doesn't hurt anyone

and how could something that's been

so ... good for me all these years,

be bad? yet i can't shrug off the feeling.

 

nor can i shrug off the feeling i get

when i read that letter and imagine the bastard

gordon downie reading it with one thought

coursing through his throbbing skull

"at last ... "

 

i go like this in the letter

 

"i get exponentially cooler upon closer inspection" and shit like that. oh it's all just so much fun with cute little pucca pictures and photos of the yard. but there are parts of it ... well i explain how i borrow him. hey no one yells at the moon for its borrowed light. it's like a massive star ... just at the tips of your youngest fingers. and you don't even need to touch it to know it's yours.  

 

so here i am feeling all this and i just has to be said.

and when i write to him ... it is ... so ... well.

i think it will make him proud. he'll probably only cringe

once or twice a page but he better get used to being

properly appreciated and it's not always easy

when you're trying to be modest but know there's something

about you ... that makes you very different from the others.

it imparts a duty few understand and can honor.

and that is it *excellent* in its effects

and yet not always so and that can be hard to take, too,

i would imagine.

 

oh i imagine so much about him.  

it's what i do best.

born ready

 

NOW I GOTTA GO TO WORK HI!

MADGE IS BRINGING TEA

AND I HAVE A BUNCH OF POSTS

 

but i have to finish the letter.

okay bye!

 

love

whorella

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[kathy jo]

Sorry to bust in you're little group like this. I am a long timer
lurker to DejaNews. Wow, my little troll, I see you made a whole
discussion forum dedicated to solely bashing me. Very interesting.
I bet you never thought I would post after all these
years..."Uh-oh", you're probably saying now.You're very angry at me.
You call me, "Whorella". Is that your follow up to "Baldheaded
Momma's Boy"?? Ohhhh....Better call Bob and David to get your back
here. Does the Flonk know about this??? Will they be mad that you
betrayed them??? Sheeesh. Ya know, you're not even good at posing
as me. Thanks for letting me sit in.The real Kathy-Jo

[Robin Colleen Moore]

kathy jo <justsome...@yahoo.com> wrote:

> Sorry to bust in you're little group like this. I am a long timer
> lurker to DejaNews.

Obviously not long enough, if you've missed this group for as long as
you apparently have...

> Wow, my little troll, I see you made a whole
> discussion forum dedicated to solely bashing me. Very interesting.
> I bet you never thought I would post after all these
> years..."Uh-oh", you're probably saying now.You're very angry at me.
> You call me, "Whorella". Is that your follow up to "Baldheaded
> Momma's Boy"?? Ohhhh....Better call Bob and David to get your back
> here. Does the Flonk know about this??? Will they be mad that you
> betrayed them??? Sheeesh.

What the FUCK are you talking about?!? Are these people friends of
yours, or just more of the same semi-professional trolls one sees all
over Usenet? Seriously, this group's been around since--when, 1995 or
some such? (Jim, help me out here, OK?) And you're just *now* figuring
this out? Methinks I know who the troll *really* is here, and it's
definitely not Whorella, aka the one, the only, OUR Kathy Jo (Kramer, if
you please).

> Ya know, you're not even good at posing
> as me.

Thank God for small favors...I'm not exactly being bowled over by either
your brilliance or your clarity.

> Thanks for letting me sit in.

You know, I wouldn't necessarily admit to posting from your potty like
that...Then again, I could draw some parallels here, but I won't bother.

> The real Kathy-Jo

You wish...<blows raspberry, assumes bad French accent> Now go away,
before I taunt you some more!

<shakes head in dismay at what passes as trolling these days> Some
people's kids, man...

Robin the mad photographer (I have PMS, a cable modem, an insane boss,
and no chocolate in the house...be afraid, be VERY fucking afraid...)

I am happy to be an American. Nowhere else could a Jew with a giant
nose engage in tongue play with an African American with a fabulous
tush after winning an Academy Award on live television for playing a
Holocaust survivor and not have someone declare a holy war against us.

[Goldman]

Robin Colleen Moore wrote:
> kathy jo <justsome...@yahoo.com> wrote:
>
>
>>Sorry to bust in you're little group like this. I am a long timer
>>lurker to DejaNews.

"Posting" is as open and free to everyone as lurking is. It's good you
took the big plunge!

> Obviously not long enough, if you've missed this group for as long as
> you apparently have...
>
>
>>Wow, my little troll, I see you made a whole
>>discussion forum dedicated to solely bashing me. Very interesting.
>>I bet you never thought I would post after all these
>>years..."Uh-oh", you're probably saying now.You're very angry at me.
>>You call me, "Whorella". Is that your follow up to "Baldheaded
>>Momma's Boy"?? Ohhhh....Better call Bob and David to get your back
>>here. Does the Flonk know about this??? Will they be mad that you
>>betrayed them??? Sheeesh.

Delusions of grandeur, classic paranoia. No one know you
justsome...@yahoo.com, and unless you identify yourself a little
better (by some reference to past discussions which you can quote AND
reference) no one will.

If you've been seething away for years thinking that people were talking
about you on here, well, then you do have a rich and interesting
internal life! Tell us more.

> What the FUCK are you talking about?!? Are these people friends of
> yours, or just more of the same semi-professional trolls one sees all
> over Usenet? Seriously, this group's been around since--when, 1995 or
> some such? (Jim, help me out here, OK?) And you're just *now* figuring
> this out? Methinks I know who the troll *really* is here, and it's
> definitely not Whorella, aka the one, the only, OUR Kathy Jo (Kramer, if
> you please).

At least '95, maybe '94. And I've read every post and none of
justsomeblonde22's references mean anything to me.

I'm only sure that this is not from the Phantom Menace who is far too
good at this sort of thing. He got some responses, ran back to his home
group to tell them that he'd left this place a "smoking crater," and
continues to cc: us every now and then, more as a hello than as even a
troll.

>> Ya know, you're not even good at posing
>>as me.
>
>
> Thank God for small favors...I'm not exactly being bowled over by either
> your brilliance or your clarity.

No matter how hard you try, you will never be able to pretend to be the
"real" anything from a Webtv account.

>>Thanks for letting me sit in.
>
>
> You know, I wouldn't necessarily admit to posting from your potty like
> that...Then again, I could draw some parallels here, but I won't bother.

Oh gee, I want to read more! (S)he's justsomeblonde22. Sounds sooooo
sexy. I wonder if she didn't mean to post to alt.fan.dirty-whores? You
know, since she's been lurking for so many years, just waiting for this,
her big night!

>>The real Kathy-Jo
>
>
> You wish...<blows raspberry, assumes bad French accent> Now go away,
> before I taunt you some more!
>
> <shakes head in dismay at what passes as trolling these days> Some
> people's kids, man...

Well, you know, with the appaling state of the American family, lots of
kids find themselves stuck at granma's with nothing to play with but the
Webtv, and after trying to play Yahoo games for a couple of days without
a Java VM, it just gets so frustrating.

So, please, please, "The real Kathy-Jo," you justsomeblonde22, you.
Stay and play with us! Don't let some bald headed momma's boy steal
your glory! Bring back Bob and David and let's all have a big 9/11 party!

We like to babysit!
jim

PS Don't mind Robin. She has nine inch nails, and if she likes you,
she'll scratch your belly.

[Whorella Mundane]

wow gordon downie finally posted ... so sensitive about his hair!

"kathy jo" <justsome...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:9a8539d.03091...@posting.google.com...

[Whorella Mundane]

robin you are so funny! and i wrote a big response to your last post on the evolution of your NIN
group and ver finished so i'm sorry. but at least you guys all got together. i guess canadians on
the hip group do, but i was always this weird ... thing out there.

i still think of gordie saying the band heard about me everywhere.
i mean who are these people?
whorever they are, they rock! but must be so scared of me or something.
i wish they'd ask me if i know me.

but you know i never gave up on this book
and when it's done and i ever get a GD dime
of money, i'm going to rent some huge
grand house and send everyone airline tickets
and we are going to finally all drink together
and relive the whole thing and i think it will be a blast.

no big chill. just finally this embrace and i'm sure there will be tears
because it's been 8 years and counting. and we all go through so much
and yet here we all are. and you long termers, i feel like i owe you so much.
your support ... kept me from saying 'fuck it' to the whole thing.

i mean i knew people who knew i should be here
and appreciated me enough to stand up for me
and no shit ... it was enough to keep me going.
to get me like 'yeah fuck those bastards'
instead of wondering if the dummies were right.

we've known each other so long and yet not, you know.
when we meet, we'll be on the other planet.
good food, lots of liquor, talking all night until we all just
slowly pass out and wake up, make a big meal
and rent a pontoon and do some swimming or sitting and drinking.
a little of both. big campfire. killer grub. nice joints.
excellent stereo with speakers in the trees. wireless.
i'll do it all. no expense spared.

IN CANADA! we'll make it a documentary.

see i think usenet is the beating heart of the internet
and the web, limbs and digits.
there's no commerce on these music groups
in the normal sense. no shopping cart.

so to me none of that bullshit exists.
spam is annoying but easy to avoid
but simply not clicking on it

so there's spam but it's not like amazon.com
and shit. you don't have to register
except with you isp. you just post. it's great

but this is by far the most personal of them all.
oh i know all web groups have chat areas,
but this is where it all started. b-boards
that evolved into usenet which evolved into newsgroups
and even with all the other chat groups,
these usegroups are still in heavy use.

my first computer didn't come with a web browser.
so how do you download one, you know?
and that was only 10 years ago.

you know i'm glad my son knows this college think
is kicking my ass financially - and his - and he knows
if he is a straight-A student, the school will start
kicking significant scholarships his way.

he studies all the time.
i mean he's perfect there.
and joining theta xi.

that's his frat. academic frat focusing
on community service and leadership.
another 300 hundred dollars.
then he'll get a blue blazer with a crest,
a maroon tie and white shirt and get his picture
taken. and if he assumes leadership there,
well the frats are the ultimate job networking
vehicle. they do develop these emotional bonds

and it's just so amazing to me that he's so middle-class
in this way. and they all love him and are begging him to join.
he's just so easy going too but not a punk. so easy to like
so happy! outgoing. fun. man. it's truly amazing.
and then do you know what job he got?

selling jello shots and kissing new sorority pledges.
he gets paid for it.

and he is a good-looking kid.
i always thought he'd go to college
but never anticipated the frat thing.

and so in some ways, he's like ... part of the winning crowd.

i never ever was. i forced myself in because i was smart
but was not always exactly welcomed but was still respected
because i had insights these other kids in college just couldn't
and i think they all learned more from me than they ever would
when i wasn't in the class.

wow bing crosby song ... would you like to swing in a star ...

love him

you know what song i love

rambling gambling man ... live ... by bob segar and the silver bullet band
it's just ... it has that vibe of my teenage years.
"turn the page" we thought was so deep.
and 'night moves' still is one of my all-time favorite rock sounds.
i just love his voice and shit.

now "elderly woman ..." by pearl jam.

madge wants to make coloring books for bands.
with the lylics written out so you could color them, too.
and the cover is an actual record cover, laminated
and ring-bound.

so cute.

she'll be selling purses made out of "up to here",
the first record ... and one other we have a record for.
maybe i'll keep road apples for myself.

was day for night still released on a record.
and i refuse to call them 'vinyl.' not.
they are records. and we still call music 'records
if you're old. not 'i love this new CD'
but this is the best "record' which surpasses
the media it's recorded on.

so ... sorry. but i hate that "vinyl" and i'm a dick
about it sorry.

if your average american made more money,
they could afford such nice stereos ...

anyway ... so yeah okay kathy jo's here.
i'm busted. i'm not her. i'm gordon downie
pretending to be a girl to keep my finger on the pulse
of the fans i truly love

i know they know some people act like dicks at the shows
and everyone tolerates them like 'right on have a great time'
but they do it by like pushing and shoving and not giving a fuck
about anyone around them. real rude. but that's everywhere i guess.
and we've been rude pushing forward through the crowd after
arriving at the last minute.

but at the first show, the dude who had his arms
crossed, punctuating his by-ceps who kept pushing me
until i turned around and am like funny - i make
funny faces no matter what i'm saying
and i go 'what the fuck?'

and then started pushing back like i liked it.
then he stepped back.

that man could never ride a crowded bus.

but i wasn't bumping against him when i was dancing.
it was the first time i really saw them. and here in the burgh.
and ... the fans were such a fucking buzz kill.

but i still was so happy to be there i didn't care
but was like 'wow those fans are not nearly as
cool given how cool this music is'

i expected polite, even soft-spoken and innocent
but truly psyched people. and there are some.
the parking lot can be pretty cool.
or totally horrific.

but there is this kinda of ... i don't know.
this superiority i see instead of ... unity.
and the canadian flags ... i was like
'you gotta be kidding' ... like okay
canada's pretty cool but you're the one
dogging americans and their flags
only to wave your own?

we all love this band.
that is all that matters. what immense
common ground. we shouldn't find fault
for each other except when people dog
the new material or when they're glad
to see americans die.

of course i always feel like i stick out
like a sore thumb at shows and wonder if there are
people looking for me and shit.
i mean to hurt me.

so it's particularly unique for me, okay?

but a few times, people have done this. pretend to be me.
it's fascinating to me because i really want to see them imitate
who they think i am, you know?

then i want my real self to blow me
so i know it would finally be done right.

i can't imagine what some people think of me.
it's ... so crazy how people read me so differently
and yet they're all reading the exact same words
but only remembering parts.

anyway thanks ...