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( , Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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To QOWTERs, from across the pond:
I put a message to you here before, but replied to my own fucking post. Please feel free to work away with that! The head of cackers was most fucked place this EST am. Plus my direct manager called me into her office first thing, and asked me what was wrong, and when explanation - sketchy, abbreviated, 'safe for work' (family shit) - was offered, I got a quick 'sorry'. Then was told to do what I could to make myself 'stable' because she has a lot of work for me to do!!
Suckfhofs! Please know that cackers can drink anyone on earth under the table, pull herself together at 4 or 5 am each day and show up at work an hour early, and sort the whole day. Evil boss straggles in late. Because she has to walk her pooch. Wah. My commute is 1.5 hrs each way vs. her 15 mins. And I don't complain.
But this is part of my world of shit. Was recently promoted, and had to fight like hell, multiple times, and outwit much intrigue. Sir Thomas W. would have been proud. All of my co-workers say that I am doing a very good job, as do senior management. I'm told she is jealous that I can deal with it all and not be hated. Because she is despised. My first battle with her was checking her manner with others. Abuse shall not happen on my fucking watch. Don't deal with bullies.
Blathering - sorry. Those who hath followed this tale of woe (um, others have it much worse. is always my thought) will realize that day yester was worstest. Thought that my new brother was lost, and this due to my revealing to my father that bro and I were in touch again. Was incommunicado with my old man for many years myself. So counseled him - hold off, and I will do my best. Confrontation is the worst you can do. But he did not listen, barged in, freaked my dear new brother out, and all was nearly lost.
But - my brother is ok with me. Heard from him later this morning and the message was: 'as you would say, No Fucking Worries!' So count me as lucky.
And yes - this story mine is pretty difficult to get your head around. My next writing project is to map it out. Have purchased a large roll of white paper to creat a flow chart. Because I don't even remember, or understand (!) much at this stage. It's ok. Have always preferred questions to answers.
Peace to all QOWTers who choose to go off-topic.
As for quoting, I shall remote to you:
1. Burnt Norton, Eliot (Four Quartets) I am this poem 24/7. And Tom E. was not the twat he pretended to be. The original title of 'Wasteland' was He Do the Police in Different Voices. You can blame Pound for the title, and all of the ridiculous footnotes. As for 4Q, prepare yourself for anguish.
2. Hopkins (Gerard Manley) Sonnet 42. This is also me. Life is fucked, lots of 'can't have' is my story. This poem is always with me, because I can't forget a single syllable.
3. Berryman, John. Was incredibly fucked up guy. Drinker, luster, total headcase. Just my type. Probably should've transcribed Dream Song # 1 last night. Google 'Huffy Henry hid the day" and mind the blank spaces. They are all Sir Thomas W.
4. Wyatt: My fellow Yank 'poets' (the term is Kryptonite, is an aspiration, not a vocation!) are always amazed when I put him in my top five. Please know that this man is responsible for some of the greatest gifts to English. His 'translations' and sonneteering are unparalleled. Anyone who has interest should purchase the Faber edition, which includes a brilliant intro by Alice Oswald, and a few poems in the voice of Wyatt himself (Middle Eng.) I had to order this from England, because it's not to be had here. And it was worth it.
Pedantry over. And thanks to you all for being nice. The past two years of my life have been unmitigated hell. Am foremost a soldier, and must keep marching. With books in hand.
And yes, I've been drinking...so apologies for length and skooly-ness. Just wanted to say. And ended up saying saying saying...
Good Night/Good Morning
cackers
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 4:17, 14 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 4:48, Reply)

u got served once before but it wasn't enuff
so i step up again 2 shove my lyrics down ur chuff,
it has since come 2 light that u r a female
but that matters for shit, since u still fucking fail.
my rhymes are tight and ur posts be depressin
at least post a picture so i can start undressin
ur fat pasty body with my own fuckin eyes
working my way down to ur monstrous thighs
wen i reach that part i redress u in a jiffy
cus ur fetid fucking clunge made me lose my fuckin stiffy
suprise suprise bitch, u hate ur fuckin boss
but ur really great and cool so it's her fuckin loss
if only that were tru instead of sarcastic
but u probably believed me, u do sound spastic
so take no3l's advice and get a mother-fuckin blog
and don't come here postin when u on the fucking blob
YERRRRRRR
OUTTIE
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 6:09, Reply)

And Something About Claiming a Small Amount of Money
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 7:18, Reply)

Sounds terrible.
It makes my self-diagnosed Aspergers pale into insignificance.
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 8:58, Reply)

and your boss doesn't like you?
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 9:56, Reply)

just for the LOLZ
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 10:02, Reply)

AND STOP DRINKING!
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 10:07, Reply)

I've sung some musical adaptations of his stuff: really good poetry, some of it.
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 10:21, Reply)

I share my name with a semi-famous footballer who plays for Spurs (I think), also the father of Walt in lost.
( , Thu 15 Jan 2009, 12:30, Reply)
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