wayneo, wano, wayno, way-noh, wayan #0, way-neoh, neighwo……..
great to see you again…funny how I was thinking about you just the last cuppladaze.
That happens to me ALL THE TIME, but usually with music…I will think of an artist, and their song is played on the radio…but that is an easy example.Often, and I do mean often, I will see an ad for let’s say a new release CD that will make me think of an event thirty eight odd years ago where so-und-so died while fucking who-und-whom. All of a thingo, the radio starts playing a track written by the wife of the lead singer of the band that so-und-so’s T-shirt was advertising.
Now SHE was actually having dirty little liaisons with a catholic high school art teacher (the school, not the teacher, although, for the purposes of this account, both may be considered catholic, at least nominally (actually at MOST nominally, as the so-called religious at the school, mostly brothers, some priests, could often be found on a Friday and Saturday night at the Leederville hotel with their arm around a not totally unrootable sheila of the almost finest order (pun intended-perhaps she was a nun?), not the accepted behaviour of a robed teacher at that time, but then, the witness of these transgressions was himself entering and consuming alcohol within licensed premises while several years below the legal age for such entering and consuming. Therefore, the veracity of this statement must be called into doubt, not because of any impairment to the memory gland given the intervening years, nor because of any impairment to such gland caused by the demon liquor, but simply because no court of law would consider a statement given, notwithstanding of free and enthusiastic will, to be admissible for two reasons. One, the age of the witness at the time of said alleged offence, and two, the fact that the witness, youthful though he may have been, was at that very time having an intensely carnal education between the thighs of the girl who would in fact become the magistrate of mention…
Nevertheless, imagine the shock of Brother Terry and his cronies, who’s reaction to being sprung more-or-less in flagrante delecto was to shout, piously, ”FUCK OFF!”, if they were to find out that Miss Bell was in fact not only nippling her way through the fantasies of the year ten boys, but also lezzing her way through the local rock scene, not to leave out the year ten girlz!) who, blatantly ignoring the school principal’s instructions, taught the third year high school art class SANS BRASSIERE!!! Ain’t life grand!
My Dad sent this email to a mate of his. I think I’ve found where my mad writing skillz come from.