What would you do?
The Hysterical Bride
Let's just say...
your telephone rings.
I don't have caller ID, I'm not quite sure how it works, but let's
just say, it says call blocked, or you just simply don't recognize the
number, something like that.
And, for argument's sake, let's just say...
you answer it anyway.
The voice on the phone sounds real enough.
"Hello, this is Bob Dylan."
What would you do?
SERIOUSLY.
sween5
I'd shit, seriously I would
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
LOL!!!!
You know why that's so funny?
Because I had thought about what I would do, before, (say nothing),
but then, after writing this, and thinking to answer the question, I
thought to myself the very same thing:
"I'd shit my pants."
Anyone else got any brilliant ideas? :)
M. Rick
>you answer it anyway.
>The voice on the phone sounds real enough.
>"Hello, this is Bob Dylan."
>What would you do?
>SERIOUSLY.
Verify his credit card.
Martin
> "Hello, this is Bob Dylan."
>
> What would you do?
Tell him to start crediting really real's compilations as inspiration
for Theme Time Radio Hour
Jumbo
Babs
Tell him that it isn't true.
Manna
SERIOUSLY????
Well, as SERIOUSLY as I could, I would say, "Hello, Bob Dylan. I am
Joni Mitchell, and I was just about to hop into my Westfalia and go
pick up my pal Manna for a campout in the woods. Bring a guitar if
you're coming. All I can fit in the Westy is my dulcimer, Manna has
her banjo. There will be keys, rivers, and goblets, so we'll be
inspired the whole while."
Annie Mc
LOL - you really do like Nashville Skyline, don't you Babs - just been
playing it myself.....again.....
For me, I'd say "Darlin', I'm a-countin' on you"
Babs
>
> > > The voice on the phone sounds real enough.
>
> > > "Hello, this is Bob Dylan."
>
> > > What would you do?
>
> > > SERIOUSLY.
>
> > Tell him that it isn't true.
>
> LOL - you really do like Nashville Skyline, don't you Babs - just been
> playing it myself.....again.....
>
> For me, I'd say "Darlin', I'm a-countin' on you"
I do, Annie -- except for Lay Lady Lay. I skip over that song.
Martin
> I do, Annie -- except for Lay Lady Lay. I skip over that song
Sorry Babs, but this isn't working out. Please move your stuff out by
next week
Babs
Oh, you couldn't mean it. And after I made you that spectacular cup of
cocoa, using Scharffen Berger natural cocoa powder? But back to Lay
Lady Lay. It's one of the songs I overdid -- like Sad-Eyed Lady. And I
really did make cocoa this morning, using your recipe minus some
sugar. Lots and lots of whipped cream! Hoo-ah!
Martin
> Lots and lots of whipped cream! Hoo-ah!
That sounds a little over the top to me, but interesting nonetheless.
But regarding Nashville Skyline, if I get bored of LLL, I listen out
for the cowbells. They're the best bit
Babs
Martin, that's where the whipped cream goes. Over the top (of the
cocoa)!
The Hysterical Bride
I just had an idea. lol.
The Hysterical Bride
you know...
cowbells, whipped cream, bob dylan...
oh, forget it. :(
The Hysterical Bride
"Hello Rachel! This is your Bob Dylan here, ready to serve you. What
would you like me to do?"
And then, since I think this is bullshit and don't want to even
believe it, I would just say, "Come over right away," and hang up
immediately.
Then I had an afterthought (lol):
"Bring a suitcase."
Annie Mc
That's a bit strong Martin - your foot of pride might be over-
reacting, but then again, I think you're right to defend LLL - those
cowbells can get you everytime......
Martin
> That's a bit strong Martin - your foot of pride might be over-
> reacting, but then again, I think you're right to defend LLL - those
> cowbells can get you everytime......
My two favourite songs on the album - One More Night & Tell Me That It
Isn't True - get me everytime too. But yes, I probably overreacted.
Do you have a spare room for Babs, just until she finds a place of her
own? I'd offer her old room, but really real's squatting in there at
the moment and Jumbo says he has squatter's rights. Something to do
with 'compilation CD copyright ownership'. I don't know, I can't keep
up wit hall all this legal mumbo jumbo
Babs
Don't worry about me, you two. I live in a chocolate factory. I had to
find larger quarters after I adopted Poisoned Rose and he moved in
with his music collection.
Martin
> I had to
> find larger quarters after I adopted Poisoned Rose
Do you need a special permit to keep a pet like that?
Babs
Martin, Poisoned Rose and I do not pet. Please. I'm old enough to be
his older sister. ;-) Meanwhile I have a bone to pick with you. I have
not been able to erase the visual of really real squatting in my old
room. Didn't you show him where the water closet was?
Martin
> Meanwhile I have a bone to pick with you. I have
> not been able to erase the visual of really real squatting in my old
> room. Didn't you show him where the water closet was?
Sorry, can't reply - laughing too much
jlaz...@gmail.com
Bob: Hello, this is Bob Dylan
Jack: This is Jack, why are you calling me?
I have no idea of what he would say next and so I just imagined
something
Bob: I heard you were watching me while shining shoes by the pinball
machine.
Jack: I don't know what you are talking about. Oh that's right,
you're Mr. Mystery. Well I have enough mystery around here of my own
to deal with and so if you want to be useful why don't you call
Rachel, and for heaven's sake be decent.
Bob: Who is Rachel ?
Jack: She goes by the name Hysterical Bride on RMD.
Bob: Ah.......
Jack: Bye Bob
click
Martin
wrote:
> Bob: Ah.......
> Jack: Bye Bob
> click
Bob: Hello, this is Bob Dylan
Martin: Really?
Bob: Yes
Martin: I don't believe you
Bob: Uh, everyone's a comedian
Martin: Bob, what's your favourite Marx Brothers film?
Bob: Why would you need to know my favourite anything?
Martin: Just curious
Bob: Have you ever visited the home of Alfred Lord Tennyson?
Martin: No, but I spoke to Andy Kershaw in a bar once
Bob: Oh yeah? What d'you ask him?
Martin: Sorry...did you say 'what JEW ask him'? I find that offensive
Bob: You don't sound jewish
Martin: He said he was disappointed in the 'interview' he did with you
Bob: Well, what did he expect, shoving raspberry jam in my face? I
hadn't even let my chicken shazlick go down at the time
Martin: What are you having for supper dinner? Indian?
Bob: Animal Crackers
Martin: That doesn't sound very healthy
Bob: No, that's my favourite Marx Brothers
Martin: Oh, mine too. Is that the one where they all pile into the
tiny cabin room?
Bob: Gotta go, man
Martin: Well, if you gotta go...
Bob: Oh jeez...(click)
The Hysterical Bride
<jlazar...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> Bob: Who is Rachel ?
> Jack: She goes by the name Hysterical Bride on RMD.
Gee, I thought I was THE Hysterical Bride.
But I guess Bob Dylan has killed off lots of young girls like this, he
knocks for them angrily on the balcony, making them run down the
aisle, they run for their lives, this is the highlight of their lives,
him telling them to "Sing" (the person who was here says he has video
of him doing this lots of times, telling people who jump on stage to
sing) and then he arouses them at the speaker and make them think he
is making love to them, and then the audience starts applauding, and
then they back away and faint when the music stops, then a security
person in the wing whispers, "Are you OK?" and then they come to and
say "Fine" and then they jump up to go meet Bob Dylan again for the
first time in their lives, and his eyes are open and they are a
vacuum, and the energy beams they shoot out of their eyes with the
biggest fake smile they have ever made in their whole lives, go
straight into his empty eyes and bounce of the back of his skull and
then shoots back across the stage onto them, and then bouces off of
them, and lands somewhere in the middle, closer to them, then the
mystery tramp (RAZ) spins around and they are staring at his ass, and
he angrily orders them to "DO IT!" and they are terrified, but they
trust this little prick with a big angry blue eyed black eyelinered
jokerman face with all their heart, and all their soul, and all their
might, and they most delicately, softly, gently place their hand on
his tight little package, and then he slowly slides his right foot
forward, and they follow and slide their right foot forward, then he
gently, slowly, again, slides his left foot forward, and they do the
same, etc..., and then security comes and removes them and takes them
slumped down with no resistance to the wing, and Bob Dylan marches out
the back door, and a cry comes out from waist deep from their insides
as soon as he hits the doorway, etc...etc...
He does it to everybody, he's a cheater, a fraud, a phony, a pied
piper, an evil genius messiah, etc...etc...
The Hysterical Bride
make that place their handS.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> Bob: I heard you were watching me while shining shoes by the pinball
> machine.
> Jack: I don't know what you are talking about. Oh that's right,
> you're Mr. Mystery. Well I have enough mystery around here of my own
> to deal with and so if you want to be useful why don't you call
> Rachel, and for heaven's sake be decent.
>
Mr. Dylan has no interest in being useful to any other human being
other than himself, just like me.
He is quite busy doing drugs, getting laid, swimming, playing golf,
and enjoying all of the bountiful riches I so generously bestowed upon
him.
He could care less.
He is probably at his girlfriend's house right now sucking on her
pussy while his brand new wife is at home changing dirty diapers,
tripping over toys, and raising a new brood of his screaming children.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> He is probably at his girlfriend's house right now sucking on her
> pussy while his brand new wife is at home changing dirty diapers,
> tripping over toys, and raising a new brood of his screaming children.
Sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything about his previous children,
honestly. I thought of them in terms of toys, but not as screaming.
I was thinking in terms of his "brand new wife," in conjunction with
his pretty black girlfriend, whom I heard about through the grape
vine.
I also neglected to mention that he probably makes his new Jewish wife
slave away over a hot stove as well, even though he can afford to hire
her a chef.
What a fucking Jewish prick. It's because of his blue eyes.
Actually, she probably refused all help, because she thinks he is
going to cheat on her, and so she is there slaving away taking care of
his children, thinking her life now has meaning, and she thinks he's
out playing golf, and he snuck away to his girlfriend's house, and is
playing with her, and treating her nice, and they are laughing about
his brand new Jewish housewife, with dark hair and big Russian tits.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
> On Feb 17, 4:15 pm, The Hysterical Bride
>
> > He could care less.
>
> He would care less. When we make mistakes we do learn from them. It is
> pretty well the only way we learn. Sometimes people might think we
> were born to get it right and so we need to tell them we are
> sorry ,but we wern't.
>
> Jack
Well, I'm glad he's not sorry.
That's always why I liked him.
He doesn't give a shit about anybody but himself.
Just like me.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> He could care less.
When we make mistakes we do learn from them. It is
pretty well the only way we learn. Sometimes people might think men
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
He doesn't give a shit, and neither do I.
That's what I came back here to say.
But you took out your previous post, and added it in again, after my
response.
I thought I didn't really understand it.
I thought it meant, he had this crazy dream, and it came true, and
that's why he was wrapped in blankets and nurtured like a baby in
1994, when it happened (I'm thinking, unless that was total bullshit),
because he realized what knowing me did to me, but he's not coming
back, and he's not really sorry, and he's perfectly satisfied, and
thus he doesn't really give a shit, and if he doesn't give a shit,
than neither do I.
But I'm still not really sure I understand your post.
The Hysterical Bride
then
jlaz...@gmail.com
> Gee, I thought I was THE Hysterical Bride.
I have no idea if that is a thought worth having and so I wouldn't
tell you one way or another what to do with it.
but
can you give me one reason that doesn't cause you distress to be
thinking it?
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
maybe i'll get to be with bob dylan? :/
The Hysterical Bride
maybe i'll get to have sex with mr. dylan? LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ouch. i laughed so hard my head hurt.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> But I'm still not really sure I understand your post.
I will repeat it in a different way and as many times as you want if
you have any interest in seeing if it worth considering. If you want
me to stop just say so and if anything I say makes you uncomfortable
then tell me that to and I will try to be more comfortable.
What I was saying is that all men, every single one of us makes
mistakes all the time. It is the only way we can learn anything new.
Thats the way we were born and we will be that way until we die.
Making mistakes doesn't make us bad or evil.
It is a very big love that seems to be holding all of this together
and we all want to be included in that love. We have been told in many
many ways since we were young that the love is a romantic love. Both
women and men sometimes get entangled into wanting to be one with that
big love in the big romantic way and so we need a partner that we can
see as being "the one" the one that will get it right for us.
There is a line of Dylan's that I like a lot where he says that he
will show just how faithful and true a man can be. It will probably be
a considerable amount less than what people might hope for but at
least it will be real. That is probably the most you can ever ask of
anyone and if it doesn't do the trick for everyone's imagination then
I guess the best that anyone can say is "I'm sorry"
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
IT ALSO CAUSES ME TERRIBLE PAIN, BECAUSE IT'S LIKE THIS IS MY WORLD,
AND I GAVE IT TO BOB DYLAN, AND HE'S HAPPY AS A CLAM, AND HE REFUSES
TO SHARE HIMSELF WITH ME.
HE'S NEVER COMING BACK, AND I CAN NOT USE OTHER PEOPLE TO TAKE ME TO
HIM, I WILL NOT RESPECT HIM LIKE THAT. Because then I can never love
him, the way I want to love him.
AND HE THINKS THAT'S DIRTY.
The Hysterical Bride
And then I'd immediately drag him into the bedroom, make him get in
bed with me, we'd be lying on the pillows facing each other, and then
I would say be all giddy and snuggle with him and say, "Tell me how
you did it!" etc...
And then he'd seduce me, and we'd have sex, because I can't refuse
him, and then he'd get out of bed, pull up his pants, zip them up,
buckle his belt, and walk out of my life forever, and I'd be pregnant,
and then I'd go have an abortion because he's an asshole.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
And as after he zipped up and I would watch him walk out of my life
forever, again, and he walked to and out the door, I would get up out
of bed and follow him, and as he was walking down the hall I would
shout at him, "YOUR FORGOT YOUR SUITCASE!" and slam the door.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
i was going to say "you forgot to bring a suitcase" but it was even
funnier to think that he forgot to take it.
i guess it was stupid.
i don't know why being stupid makes me laugh so hard.
but it does. (it did)
jlaz...@gmail.com
>
> i don't know why being stupid makes me laugh so hard.
>
> but it does. (it did)
You do seem to keep getting to something very funny. You come across
as having a great sense of humor.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Well, I have to be honest with you, Jack.
I have been sitting on my couch, in my obsession, trying to figure out
what to think, how to think, and I thought I came to the conclusion
that this was all a big joke on me, and nothing is really funny, G-d
is a serious person, life is serious, and so is Bob Dylan, and RMD is
all a big joke on me, and I wanted to stop joking around, and thought,
but if I still read it, they are going to toy with me, you know, like
being manipulated, and maybe that is exactly what is happening now,
but a part of me believes you, after thinking about it for a while, I
thought maybe there was some good in it, but I'm not sure.
I don't know what to think.
I feel like G-d is punishing me, albeit mercifully.
I don't even want to meet Mr. Dylan.
I'm not good enough.
I'm asking too much from G-d.
Bob Dylan is too big for me. Oh, haha, very funny.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Sprat (I'm not laughing)
Bye.
The Hysterical Bride
jlaz...@gmail.com
> I don't know what to think.
I consider a good sign of intelligence is not what we know but rather
how we behave when we don't know what to do.
You seem to have a lot of thoughts that are confusing you and so what
you are doing is putting them out in a place in a way that is not
doing anyone any harm. Where there might be people who can at least
identify with you to some extent. That seems pretty intelligent to
me. It gives you a chance to look at them as well as others. I am
pretty sure that you are not the only one who is sometimes troubled by
things that they have heard Bob sing. Not everyone is so forthcoming
about talking about it.
> I don't know what to think.
Who does?
Thoughts come and trying not to think them doesn't seem to help. We
aren't our thoughts.
There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with looking at thoughts and
seeing if there is anything useful in them that doesn't cause pain. If
a thought is looked at closely and nothing worthwhile is found in it
then it won't stay. It just won't. Nothing stays that we can't love
well.
I am pretty sure you have made a lot of people who read RMD curious, I
am one of them. I also have no reason to not believe what you are
saying. When you say that you are obsessed with Bob it tells me that
you think that you are not able to stop it and so i wouldn't suggest
trying. What I was wondering was how attached you were to the way you
are obsessed. What I am curious about for example is the name
"Hysterical Bride" The way the hysterical bride is treated in Bob's
songs is not exactly in the most tender and respectful way. If you
feel a need to be identified with a person in one of his songs could
one of the other characters serve your purpose just as well or even
better?
You know yourself more than other people do and so I am sure it should
be left to you to decide what character you want to be. If I had to
pick one for you, and of course I don't know you that well but trying
to be just one of what could be thousand of viewpoints, I think that I
would pick Ramona.
Simple, very surface reasons, with no deep thought going into my
selection. The reason being that it just came to mind and you have
the same first initial and Ramona seems like she has been troubled by
what has come out of people's mouth and that her thoughts can't be
controlled.
Jack
jlaz...@gmail.com
wrote:
> I still don't get it.
Ok I will try another way.
Here is an experiment you can do. Speak to any man and ask him if he
thinks he can be for any particular woman the person that your
thoughts tell you what you want Bob to be for you.
I am pretty sure that the cloest answer you would ever get to someone
saying yes is if someone said "It would take a miracle"
Jack
cove...@gmail.com
> OK, this is purely hypothetical.
>
> Let's just say...
>
> your telephone rings.
>
> I don't have caller ID, I'm not quite sure how it works, but let's
> just say, it says call blocked, or you just simply don't recognize the
> number, something like that.
>
> And, for argument's sake, let's just say...
>
> you answer it anyway.
>
> The voice on the phone sounds real enough.
>
> "Hello, this is Bob Dylan."
>
> What would you do?
>
> SERIOUSLY.
I'd say, "Are you looking for the guy that you said you wanted to be
you for a while in don't look back? when you said "somebody else could
be bob dylan for a while, that'd be me." 'Cuz if yer callin' to ask me
if i'll do it, the answer is yes."
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Re: the name/character choice The Hysterical Bride
I myself do not feel that I am behaving in a tender nor respectful
way, I think lusting after Bob Dylan is somewhat rude, I really am
rather crazy, so I think The Hysterical Bride suits me to a tee.
I don't like the Ramona idea, because it hurts me to think of Bob
Dylan being driven to his knees, and to tears, coming back to me
crying.
As much as I want him back, I wouldn't want him to hurt in that way,
so I don't want to be Ramona.
But thanks for the suggestion.
P.S. You wrote a lot, in more than one post, I'm still digesting it.
May or may not get back to you further. Thank you so much for putting
so much effort and so many ideas out there. What a gift.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> As much as I want him back, I wouldn't want him to hurt in that way,
> so I don't want to be Ramona.
OK fair enough. How does Isis sound ?
> But thanks for the suggestion.
>
> P.S. You wrote a lot, in more than one post, I'm still digesting it.
> May or may not get back to you further. Thank you so much for putting
> so much effort and so many ideas out there. What a gift.
Thanks, but you must know that it pales in comparison to the amount of
effort and ideas that you put out.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
<jlazar...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On Feb 18, 1:58 pm, The Hysterical Bride
>
> > As much as I want him back, I wouldn't want him to hurt in that way,
> > so I don't want to be Ramona.
>
> OK fair enough. How does Isis sound ?
I think it sounds pretentious.
>
> > But thanks for the suggestion.
>
> > P.S. You wrote a lot, in more than one post, I'm still digesting it.
> > May or may not get back to you further. Thank you so much for putting
> > so much effort and so many ideas out there. What a gift.
>
> Thanks, but you must know that it pales in comparison to the amount of
> effort and ideas that you put out.
Yeah, but I just wish I were smarter. I hope somebody likes it. :)
> Jack
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
What about Big Fat Donkey Head?
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
(just so you don't think i forgot, and thought i was being original,
this was from Dylanpool.)
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
I believe in miracles
Where you from
You sexy thing
I believe in miracles
Since you came along
You sexy thing
Miracles right before my eyes
You sexy thing got me hypnotised
Don't stop what ya' doing
What ya' doing to me
My angel from above lying next to me
How did ya' know that I'd be the one
Been a long time coming only just begun
Doing all the things that makes my heart sing
Keep doing what you're doing you sexy thing
How did ya' know I needed you so badly
How did ya' know I gave my heart gladly
Yesterday I was one of a lonely people
Now you're lying next to me
Making love to me
I believe in miracles
Where you from
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
I believe in miracles
Since you came along
You sexy thing
Only yesterday I was on my own
Just another day later my mind was blown
You sexy thing come into my life
Forever and a day it feels so right
How did ya' know that I'd be the one
Been a long time coming only just begun
Doing all the things that makes my heart sing
Keep doing what you're doing you sexy thing
How did ya' know I needed you so badly
How did ya' know I gave my heart gladly
Yesterday I was one of a lonely people
Now you're lying next to me
Making love to me
I believe in miracles
Where you from
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
I believe in miracles
Since you came along
You sexy thing
Kiss me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Touch me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Kiss me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Touch me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Kiss me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Touch me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Kiss me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Touch me baby
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
You sexy thing
Rock on, Mr. Dylan!
The Hysterical Bride
That wasn't very good.
I didn't know what else to say.
I mean, I was just trying to encourage him, since he doesn't want to
be with me.
I don't really believe in miracles.
There are no miracles in the Bible, that's what I've been told.
You're right.
It's impossible.
He doesn't want to be my Mr. Dylan, or my Bob Dylan, or my Bob, or my
Boob, or my Booby, or anything.
He's his own man, in his own world.
I'm just sitting here looking at some pictures, wowwee, he's the
bestest.
And so, my life sucks, but it's good, too, so that's that.
Love,
Big Fat Blob
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
>
> - Show quoted text -
[edit] Codes for computing
Alternative representations of R
NATO phonetic Morse code
Romeo ·-·
Signal flag Flag semaphore ASL Manual Braille
In Unicode the capital R is codepoint U+0052 and the lower case r is U
+0072.
[edit] Dog's Letter
The letter R is sometimes referred to as the dog's letter. This phrase
has Latin origins, the Latin R was trilled so it sounds like a
snarling dog. A good example of a trilling R is the Spanish word for
dog: perro. [2]
I don't really know what I am doing here, but the Unicode reminds me
of what happened on stage, and also, the Kabbalist I told you about,
who once IMed me, and said "r u ok?" which is what the man in the wing
whispered to me as I lay in a heap on the floor of the stage,
unconcsious. (this made me come to, I responded "fine," then leaped up
to go over to Bob Dylan, with my head down, until I reached the spot
where I felt was the right place to meet him, and well, you know what
happened. It was very scary. lol.)
And then going over to Bob Dylan, who was 52. And 72 is also the
number of names there are for G-d, according to Kabbalah.
I also read something about 52 having to do with (I'm remembering some
things, but want to leave them out, because it's so vague in my
memory,) but like being full, full of gifts from G-d or something. I
think it had to do with Abraham, which, btw, was the name of the
Kabbalist who IMed me with those words.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> It's impossible.
>
> He doesn't want to be my Mr. Dylan, or my Bob Dylan, or my Bob, or my
> Boob, or my Booby, or anything.
I don't think he can but if he could have seen what was happening in
his blind spot he would probably want to do something. Any decent man
would.
> He's his own man, in his own world.
I am sure it isn't easy being the spear of an age.
> I'm just sitting here looking at some pictures, wowwee, he's the
> bestest.
>
> And so, my life sucks, but it's good, too, so that's that.
Not everyone wanted to be Bob Dylan and it doesn't require a miracle
for one man to be willing to speak on behalf of another if he is in
position to be seeing what is happening.
There was something you said about what you had between your fingers
and your thumb that has caused me to think that you might appreciate
how one person may be able to speak on behalf of another in the
following song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc_dgbCHs58
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
<jlazar...@gmail.com> wrote:
> On Feb 18, 3:27 pm, The Hysterical Bride
>
> > It's impossible.
>
> > He doesn't want to be my Mr. Dylan, or my Bob Dylan, or my Bob, or my
> > Boob, or my Booby, or anything.
>
> I don't think he can but if he could have seen what was happening in
> his blind spot he would probably want to do something. Any decent man
> would.
Well, he is a little, with his songs. But it's just totally unfair,
because I really think I could have gotten on with my life without him
if he weren't singing about me. Thus, I feel totally used. Maybe he
feels used, having to sing about me, so he could get rich, and be a
rock star.
>
> > He's his own man, in his own world.
>
> I am sure it isn't easy being the spear of an age.
I don't know what that means, being the spear of an age. ?
>
> > I'm just sitting here looking at some pictures, wowwee, he's the
> > bestest.
>
> > And so, my life sucks, but it's good, too, so that's that.
>
> Not everyone wanted to be Bob Dylan and it doesn't require a miracle
> for one man to be willing to speak on behalf of another if he is in
> position to be seeing what is happening.
>
> There was something you said about what you had between your fingers
> and your thumb that has caused me to think that you might appreciate
> how one person may be able to speak on behalf of another in the
> following song.
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc_dgbCHs58
>
> Jack
What did I have between my fingers and my thumb? Leonard Cohen said
that, not I. To whom are you speaking? (I didn't want to listen to him
sing, I just went and read the lyrics.)
Are you talking about Bob Dylan's butt? I don't understand.
P.S. I feel that this is all a put-on, I know it, I can't figure out
what else to do with my life, I only want to be with Bob Dylan. But I
know he hates me. I mean it.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
>
> - Show quoted text -
But I'm not going to try and meet him, it's too scary. He doesn't
respect me or like me.
And it wouldn't work anyway.
Being The Hysterical Bride is just fine with me.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> What did I have between my fingers and my thumb? Leonard Cohen said
> that, not I. To whom are you speaking? (I didn't want to listen to him
> sing, I just went and read the lyrics.)
>
> Are you talking about Bob Dylan's butt? I don't understand.
I don't think it much matters what you touched but just the idea that
you reached out to touch what you longed for and did.
The line "the sands of time are falling from your fingers and your
thumb" seems to speak of the time after that doesn't necessarily have
to be so sad.
> P.S. I feel that this is all a put-on, I know it, I can't figure out
> what else to do with my life, I only want to be with Bob Dylan. But I
> know he hates me. I mean it.
I am certainly not trying to put you on. I don't think that you are
trying to put anyone on by saying that you only want to be with Bob
Dylan. I will never try to argue with how you say you feel but i would
question the assumptions that you make about how others feel. I
certainly would question you saying that Bob Dylan hates you.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
I really really REALLY have trouble not believing that girl.
She sounded SO NICE, and she was SO LUCKY, and she was CHOSEN to meet
him, and so I just can't believe she would lie. :(
If he likes me, then I never meant to say a bad word about him,
although I still have big problems with his behavior, what he does
with his dick, it's like the only thing that I really care about.
He's cheating on me, and I can't stand it.
And if he likes me, and he's never going to call me, then it's also
meaningless, as well.
He's just using me for his songs.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> > What did I have between my fingers and my thumb? Leonard Cohen said
> > that, not I. To whom are you speaking? (I didn't want to listen to him
> > sing, I just went and read the lyrics.)
>
> > Are you talking about Bob Dylan's butt? I don't understand.
>
> I don't think it much matters what you touched but just the idea that
> you reached out to touch what you longed for and did.
All for a moment's glory, and it's a dirty, rotten shame. (that would
be me, the shame)
>
> The line "the sands of time are falling from your fingers and your
> thumb" seems to speak of the time after that doesn't necessarily have
> to be so sad.
>
> > P.S. I feel that this is all a put-on, I know it, I can't figure out
> > what else to do with my life, I only want to be with Bob Dylan. But I
> > know he hates me. I mean it.
>
> I am certainly not trying to put you on. I don't think that you are
> trying to put anyone on by saying that you only want to be with Bob
> Dylan. I will never try to argue with how you say you feel but i would
> question the assumptions that you make about how others feel. I
> certainly would question you saying that Bob Dylan hates you.
Well, I know he does, I just try and shrug it off, because if I could
really feel his hatred, I would die.
I know that's what he wants me to do, kill myself.
Last night, when I was picturing him with his girlfriend for a second,
I saw him get so angry at me I saw an image of him stabbing me with a
big knife. (a very unusual violent image for me.) It was BAD.
Believe me, he hates me.
> Jack
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
>
>
>
> I don't think it much matters what you touched but just the idea that
> you reached out to touch what you longed for and did.
>
He's a fine piece of ass, that Mr. Dylan. :)
jlaz...@gmail.com
> If he likes me, then I never meant to say a bad word about him,
> although I still have big problems with his behavior, what he does
> with his dick, it's like the only thing that I really care about.
Hi I'm not one who makes jokes easily but the thought did surface.
Can't you find someone willing to place a bag over their head?
Sorry
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
I thought of that before.
That it would be ok if he kept fucking hookers if they had a bag over
their heads, and didn't know he was my horny husband.
Anyway, Bob Dylan likes to wear bags on his head, I've heard.
The Hysterical Bride
He's not attracted to me.
I don't appeal to him.
He likes them tall, young, thin, sexy, and black.
To him, that's respectable.
Because he thinks he is so much better than everyone else.
He wants people to kiss his fucking ass.
He is ashamed of being Jewish, and having a Jewish wife that he has to
fuck, with dark hair and big tits. He thinks that's dirty.
That's why he treated Sara like shit, and that's why he treats me like
shit, too.
It's all because of his blue eyes.
The Hysterical Bride
Dear Mr. Dylan,
I am sorry I am being so mean today. I'm in a *really* bad mood. It's
boredom, and it's excruciating.
I'm really sorry.
Love,
Rachel :(
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
You know what I felt like saying?
I wanted to write, in my boredom and ensuing anger and frustration:
Dear Bob,
You know what I want you to do? Stick a gun in your mough and blow
your fucking brains out. I hate your brains, and I want you gone, so I
can be free from you. I will never love another, I won't have sex, I
won't have any other relationships with anybody, but at least I won't
have to keep thinking about how I can be with you.
Rachel
But I came in here to possibly do it, and my heart just fell, and that
is just so wrong, but I am just so hurt by what Bob Dylan has done to
me, to know me, to write about me, to sing about me, to mock me, to
hurt me, to order me around, to lead me on, to mess up my whole life,
I am just so hurt.
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
I WANT YOUR BODY. I WANT YOUR BODY. I WANT YOUR BODY. I WANT YOUR
BODY. I WANT YOUR BODY.
I believe in miracles. (lol)
Love,
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Dear Bob,
I wanna eat you.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
Would you like fries with that?
Bob
Dear Bob,
And a strawberry shake.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I had a hallucination once while on speed, that you had sex with me,
and then you died still inside me, and on top of me, and the
Kabbalists were like, well, what are you going to do now, Rachel? That
was all you wanted, right?
Love,
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
You want me to try and figure out how to come crawling back to you.
I won't do it. You would never take me back, anyway.
And I am going to suffer for the rest of my life, because of you and
your genius.
You are seriously just a selfish prick, and I have no respect for you.
Sincerely,
Rachel Ben-Levi
jlaz...@gmail.com
> But I came in here to possibly do it, and my heart just fell, and that
> is just so wrong, but I am just so hurt by what Bob Dylan has done to
> me, to know me, to write about me, to sing about me, to mock me, to
> hurt me, to order me around, to lead me on, to mess up my whole life,
> I am just so hurt.
>
I can usually make sense of why I write things but it does
occasionally happen that I feel compelled to say something that I
don't fully understand but I know to be true.
The hurt is over. It is not going to hurt more than that. You went as
far as you needed to go and now the healing will begin.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Maybe you mean Bob Dylan's hurt? Yes, I can't possibly hurt him
anymore than I might have if he even reads this bullshit.
But I am still hurt, and my hurting is only just beginning, because as
ABSURD as this is, and useless as these thoughts are, the ONLY thing I
want from Bob Dylan right now is that he were here, with me, in bed,
with my arms wrapped around him and holding him tightly.
But, I guess, like he said, I'm not that strong.
I can't make it happen.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
>
> - Show quoted text -
Make no mistake about it.
Bob Dylan is the reason I was born, the reason I am the way I am, and
the reason I am sick.
If I were with him, I would be healed.
It's only going to get worse.
I am having a very bad day.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
I am so ashamed I want to kill myself.
This is what I get for praying for Bob Dylan's health and happiness.
I sacrificed my own life for him.
And he doesn't give a shit.
Which is exactly the way I like him.
The Hysterical Bride
>
> - Show quoted text -
I think I am going insane.
Dear Rachel,
Please don't squeeze me.
Mr. Dylan
Dear Mr. Dylan,
Do you know what's wrong with me?
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
You're a dirty, rotten shame.
Mr. Dylan
Dear Mr. Dylan,
I'm going crazy without you.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
That's your problem, not mine.
Mr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
I'm taking back your honaray degrees.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
Say hi to your pill pusher for me.
Dr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
Your music is a disgrace.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
It's all for you.
Dr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
I don't want it. I refuse to buy any more of your albums.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
You just wait and see.
Dr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
I hate you.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
I'm having the time of my life.
Dr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
It's all because of me.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
That was your decision.
Dr. Dylan
Dear Dr. Dylan,
You don't deserve it. Go back to Hibbing.
Rachel
jlaz...@gmail.com
> And he doesn't give a shit.
>
> Which is exactly the way I like him.
Constipated ?
Rachel if you ever get to feeling that you want to speak to someone in
a not so public way and if you feel that you can stand the way I am
speaking to you, my email address is not that hard to figure out and I
certainly won't mind you using it.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
I don't want anybody but Bob Dylan.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Dear Bob,
I just had sex with a dog. Does that count?
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I am having sex tonight with my neighbor's wife. Does that count?
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I'm having fun.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I guess I don't really need you.
Rachel
Dear Mr. Dylan,
You are a filet mignon.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Dr. Dylan,
Sorry for turning you into a piece of meat.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I am wasting away my life because of you. It's fun. It's hard. It's a
total joke. I hope you can help me.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Mr. Dylan,
I would do anything for you.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I am seriously stuck on you.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Mr. Dylan,
I love you.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
No you don't.
Love,
Mr. Dylan
Dear Mr. Dylan,
You're probably right.
Love,
Rachel
Dear Bob,
I am going nuts today.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
Why?
Bob
Dear Bob,
Because I am crazy without you.
Rachel
Dear Rachel,
I had to wait 52 years to meet you. You don't deserve me.
Bob
Dear Bob,
I know. It's all my fault. I'm sorry.
Love,
Rachel
The Hysterical Bride
i'm psychic.
i felt that this was turning into silvio, last night, and now they are
playing it on tangled up in bob.
my life is totally ruined.
all i want is to be alone with bob dylan, and it wasn't meant to be.
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
i don't even want to be alone with bob dylan.
i'm just going psycho today, and i don't know why.
seriously, this has to do with my chemical inbalance.
i got dee blues.
i got no home.
i don't know peace.
i can't relax.
i think i need to get laid.
what's wrong with me?
do you know what's wrong with me, bob dylan?
what's wrong with you?
i think you are perfect, and no one is good enough for you.
not even me.
that's a joke, huh.
not even as if i were even close to you.
i've never even met you.
i'm just embarrassing myself.
i don't know what to do.
i'm really screwed. :/
The Hysterical Bride
>
> I don't think it much matters what you touched but just the idea that
> you reached out to touch what you longed for and did.
The devil made me do it.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> i think you are perfect, and no one is good enough for you.
You think Bob Dylan is perfect?
What ever gave you that idea?
Everybody knows he isn't.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
Yes he is.
He is totally perfect, he is blameless, and no one is good enough for
him.
jlaz...@gmail.com
> He is totally perfect, he is blameless, and no one is good enough for
> him.
Well if I can't get you higher how would you like it if I tried to
bring him lower, at least in your mind? I don't have any desire to
speak badly of him but Rachel he is just a man and has never really
hidden his mistakes. We could go slow if you want.
Jack
The Hysterical Bride
wrote:
I know you all hate me, just leave me alone, I am not good enough for
him.
I can never be his perfect wife, which is the only thing I really
want.
This is all a big joke.
I'm going to lie down.
marie
guy.
Shades of Griffin and Sabine.
"jlaz...@no-spamgmail.com" <jlaz...@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:9f6a248a-a2ce-499c...@e10g2000prf.googlegroups.com...
jlaz...@gmail.com
> Seven posts in a row between Rachel <who I blocked YEARS ago> , and this
> guy.
> Shades of Griffin and Sabine.
It's a good shade that points to the golden mean.
Thanks for mentioning that.
Jack
Annie Mc
> On Feb 17, 8:12 am, Martin <martingayf...@yahoo.co.uk> wrote:
>
> > On Feb 17, 1:01 pm, Annie Mc <anniemcne...@gmail.com> wrote:
>
> > > That's a bit strong Martin - your foot of pride might be over-
> > > reacting, but then again, I think you're right to defend LLL - those
> > > cowbells can get you everytime......
>
> > My two favourite songs on the album - One More Night & Tell Me That It
> > Isn't True - get me everytime too. But yes, I probably overreacted.
> > Do you have a spare room for Babs, just until she finds a place of her
> > own? I'd offer her old room, but really real's squatting in there at
> > the moment and Jumbo says he has squatter's rights. Something to do
> > with 'compilation CD copyright ownership'. I don't know, I can't keep
> > up wit hall all this legal mumbo jumbo
>
> Don't worry about me, you two. I live in a chocolate factory. I had to
> find larger quarters after I adopted Poisoned Rose and he moved in
> with his music collection.
Oooh, that was very considerate of you Babs... I'm jealous about the
chocolate factory though.... Martin, I LOVE Tell Me It Isn't
True.....