So I got to talkin’ to this fella lives in sheltered accommodation in the guts o' County Londonderry, fella we'll call Jeff on account of the tale being all sortsa compromising. Jeff, you'll be aware, he used to be a plumber 'till he lost 40% of an arm as a result of a vein gone bad far side o' a year or two's jabbin’.
He didn't blame the needle explicitly, y'unnerstann, but a fella can deduce as much from the black shimmers now and again in the corners o' his smile, kinda shimmer only a handful of unfortunate souls in particular circumstances ever need worry about shining.
The arm, though, that's a tale for another time.
I was three hours early for the train, and yet, with the rain bein a couple notches too wet and the lass in the chippie being a couple notches less enthusiastic than a fella might hope, the only option was to sit in the station reading some Flann O'Brien and wishing I'd something funnier to write than "wank", which, whilst certainly hilarious, is hardly on a par with the intricate collage o' puns and jests and droll retort found clinging to the pages of The Third Policeman.
Flann O'Brien, or Brian O'Nolan as he was known to his mother, he was an Irish writer spent his days scribbling bollock-melting masterpieces and being ignored by all but a few individuals sat huddled round Dublin firesides discussing post-modernism. He died drunk and bitter and probably still had a thousand and six tales to tell about the hilarities of bicycles or footnotes, each syllable more intoxicating than the last. An amazing writer, and yet, prior to a couple months ago, I'd never heard tell of the marvelous old bastard.
Irish writers, see, for whatever reason, never seem to have anything to say that I can be bothered listening to. It's only that I was born in Northern Ireland, and am therefore British, that I can even bring myself to proofread my own self-indulgent piffle.
Nonetheless, Flann O'Brien, like Brendan Behan, Old Man Joyce, Oscar Wilde, James Clarence Magnan, Roddy Doyle and a handful of other cheeky rapscallions done crawled into my affections regardless of being all too fond of a "hilarious" tale involving Killarney, he can feel safe in the knowledge that I very much dig the fuck out his paragraphs, and am very sorry he had to be dead.
Article comments
1 - Aaron Fleming
Haha, splendid!
And that candle-wax/Palahniuk tale has me wincing everytime I think about it, some deranged psychosomatic tribulations!
2 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
thank you sir fleming! a fairly slight mind-wax for a change. i figured i'd fling the spot-light t'wards someone else for a time. sort of.
and aye, that tale. my god.
3 - DJRadiohead
Duke, this is great. It's funny, I guess. We fellas, as adolescents, get all kinds of curious about fuck-related acts, sensations, and activities and go to great lengths to conjure ways to experience them (unless you happened to be mighty enough to get The Real Thing whenever you wanted) in theory in hope for The Moment.
I guess where I am going with all of this is when I look back every bit of my thinking was in a straight manner because I am. Never stopped and thought about someone from a different perspective might be doing the same things, only different. Never stopped to think what those things might be.
Educational mind wax.
4 - Aaron, Duke De Mondo
thanks sir DJ! and yeah,we rarely hear about these sortsa trials and tribulations. certainly there's no way of finding anything out in the ol' schoolin and such, ain't a thing for it but to experiment away down there. and really, it would appear that sex education relating to that particular orrifice is somethin badly needed. who knows what terrors are goin on in adolescent arseholes the world over, just on account of not knowing the first thing about the actual going's on up there.
5 - DJRadiohead
What I discovered is all that sex education did not cover nearly in depth enough how to acquire sex in any form or fashion. Schools left us heathens to our own devices to crack that code and I got carpal tunnel syndrome before I cracked it.
The arsehole was light years from my imagination but you might be on to something hear, Duke.
6 - Greg Smyth
A fine piece of purple prose, Good Sir. And a brilliant pay-off too.
7 - Kate
You are so deliciously funny as hell
8 - Duke De Mondo
Kate, thank you m'dear! I'm glad you liked it. and Sir Smyth, sorry, i thought i had replied to your wonderful remarks right there. Thank you also!