Chiffon #17

Today I have to let you know it is Mother”s Day tomorrow and I wish all you mothers… something. I don”t quite know what, I will think.

When you think about it, there are quite a few. Take Johnny. He is a mother of a pollie. In fact most pollies are mothers. The petrol companies are mothers, so is the Reserve Bank chief and all home loan lenders. I wish you all a mother of a day. Anyone, really, depending on their Karma, can be a mother.

What about Beaconsfield? She is writing a lot of firsts for Johnnies I.R. laws. When in the last fifty years have you seen the leader of a trade union (with the exception of Bob Hawke who had issues) speaking on behalf of the company and don”t some revelations come out.

After two hundred and seventy-seven hours, the spokesman for the company, the Australian Workers Union, said the company had a plan in place for eighty five hours. No, nothing wrong with the maths there. This is proved because every thing happens in the next forty-eight hours. That untruth never changed, which is another indicator as to how prepared and able to deal with this kind of scenario the mining industry actually is.

What of the family of the dead miner? There will be no spontaneous anything for his family. I expect that the TV needs to be thanked for providing the local population with the opportunity to achieve their fifteen minutes of fame, at the expense of a tragedy. It is OK for the company and its executive for becoming invisible. Why not the whole effort? But great TV. I am going to nominate Beaconsfield for best supporting role to a farce.

Sunday Night May 7, 2006

And just when you thought it could not get any better, Risky Carleton (no they did not name the footy team after him) up and drops dead right after asking (I presume) a really hard question at the media conference right there, well just off camera. A heart attack!Well, I know there are only two things that are hard on the heart and one of them is running up hills and the other is running down people.

I personally did not like his style of prying (journalism) that he did, but I guess another Labor prime minister can be credited with having told us so during an interview when asked a question by Richard Carlton. He replied, ‘you haven”t got any better have you?’ I am sorry this is what I remember of this man.

Imagine this. You are a timeless soul traveling through.. the.. what is, and just imagine you come across a native of this dimension with similar abilities, inadvertently attempting to ostracise you by belittling you. Not wishing to entertain the concept of competition too innocently, what pray tell is going off in my head. I am suspecting this: I have been uncovered.

Telepathically an attempt was made (not for the first time) to scan my thoughts. This is something which can be felt, for those sensitive enough to be in tune with their thoughts. Someone I have met is aware, I think. And worse I think they know what I think. But I tell you, I am getting a little pissed off with pseudonym seeking anachronisms purportedly suffering social segregation due to their ability to refuse to accept that they are only words, not the whole bloody English language.

I don”t mind being their venting machine, once. Personally I don”t see why the fuck I should put up with such crap. There is no collar around my neck and no ring on my finger. But what could I do?

Carlos Castaneda”s Don Juan maintains that to be extraordinary is beyond the average man because the average man puts all his energy into being average. So I guess I must be throwing this little philosophy into the equation.

As she watched from her window, a fox darted across the common, causing her to exclaim in a gleeful tone, ‘I smell a hunt coming on.’

Luff Chiffon xxx

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