Wednesday, October 18, 2017

DEALING WITH A BULLY ©


Xmas was on its way again so mi mum asked me and mi sisters what we would like for the occasion.

"I want a Brindle Greyhound for Xmas so I can go rabbiting on the moors." I said.

"You're getting no bloody Brindle Greyhound out of me!" sez Iris.

"Then why bother to ask me what I want?"

This type of conversation went backwards and forwards all the way up till a couple of weeks before Xmas.

One evening, Iris said to me, "You can have a Springer Spaniel if you want a dog but I'm not buying a bloody Greyhound. They look like they've never been fed for a bloody month of Sundays!"

I was not interested in a Springer Spaniel but that's what they decided to buy me for Xmas so I just had to make the best of it. I picked the puppy up from the station on the 24th of December. Although I did not want a Springer Spaniel, it was a bit hard not to like it when I opened the crate and it ran out and licked my face. It was so happy to be out of the crate as it ran around in small circles not knowing what to do.

Over the months, Raja grew into a fine dog but my heart was never in him because I always wanted a Greyhound. 'Spaniels are not bad dogs.' I thought but they're no use at catching rabbits. During the day when we were at school and Iris and Jim were at work, Raja lived downstairs in the large cellar room. It was a great big room with a concrete slab floor and a sliding window, which let lots of light in for him.

<<>>

Around this time, I had devised another business scheme where I could make misen a good few bob as the price of cigarettes and sweets was always going up. Ryburn School used to run a school lunch program. Every child who wanted to eat the school dinners could do so for 5/- a week. Some kids used to live quite close to the school so they would usually go home for dinners. Boston Street was about a 15 minute run from Ryburn School. Unbeknownst to mi mother, I decided to keep mi 5/- dinner money and run home of a lunch time and make misen a cup of tea and some toast and jam. Now I had 5 bob a week extra to survive on. After I had been doing this for about a month I had another hair-brained scheme which I presented to a few of the boys who used to smoke behind the back of the Gym.

"This is how it works." I said "You all get 5 bob a week from your mothers for your school dinner, so every Monday morning, instead of paying the 5 bob to the class teacher you can pay me 2/6d and keep 2/6d for yourselves and out of the 2/6d you pay me you can come down to mi mothers place and I'll make you all 4 pieces of toast with margarine and raspberry jam on it. Oh, and one pot of tea between however many of you decide to come."

"That's not a bad idea Dick Lad." Said one boy. "4 pieces of toast and jam will be much tastier than those rotten school dinners and I'll have half-a-crown a week left for fags. I'll start next Monday!"

Before the following Monday morning had rolled around I had signed up 4 boys for my school dinner scheme. When Monday mornings arrived, each boy gave me half-a-crown, which meant I had collected 10 bob plus I own 5 bob dinner money. That meant I now had 15 bob in mi pocket. I was rich, beyond my imagination.

There was about 20 large slices in a loaf of bread. I had already figured out that I could feed all 4 boys for a cost of about 4 bob a week. 15/- minus 4 bob expenses would leave me with 11 bob a week, clear profit!

The first Monday we all met a pre-arranged area in the playground and as soon as all 4 boys were present we took off at a fast run down to mi mums house. Before we got to the top of Boston Street I told the boys that they were to go down to the front door of the house because most of the neighbors lived in the back kitchens during the day and I didn't want nosy neighbors telling mi mum that a bunch of schoolboys were seen entering her premises when she was away at work. I made each boy 4 pieces of toast and jam and a cup of Liptons' tea. After everyone was finished, I cleaned the place up so mi mum would not know, then we made our way slowly back up the hill to school, smoking and laughing and having a good old time!

Each morning, before I went to school, I would buy a large loaf of bread and hide it in mi room along with the jar of jam and the tub of margarine. After a couple of months of this, I got so good at cooking up the toast without burning it that the boys gave me the nickname of 'Toast Man'.

<<>>

One day a couple of the boys decided they'd had enough toast and jam to last them till the end of their school days so they stopped coming for toast and went back to paying for school dinners. This meant I was now 2 customers short and minus 5 bob a week, which I had already got used to having, therefore, I had to go back around the school Gym wall at first break and drum up some more business.

Johnny Brown decided he would like to give a couple of week's trial and another boy, Ted Eubanks said he'd start coming down as well. Eubanks was a great big fat kid who was well known as one of the schools toughest bullies, so I didn't have a great deal of say in the matter.

The first week Brown and Eubanks paid their half crown each and everything seemed to go quite well until Eubanks started asking for more than the agreed upon amount of toast.

"Give me another couple a' pieces of toast, Swindells! I'm still hungry!"

"No." I said. "4 slices is what you’ve paid for and you've already eaten all 4. There's no more for you until tomorrow!"

"I'm not coming down here next week! I don't like like this bloody deal!" said Eubanks.

"Suit ya' self. You're the only one who has ever complained so far."

The following Monday when I went around the boys to collect their half-crowns, Eubanks said "I'm not coming down this week. I'm spending the whole 5 bob on fags. Anyway, I'm already sick of toast and jam."

"Alright, no problem." I said. "I'll find somebody else to replace you."

The following day, which was Tuesday, Eubanks said to me, "I've spent all mi money on fags so I've got nowt left to buy misen some lunch with. Can I come down to your place for some toast?"

"No, you didn't pay your money yesterday, the same as the other boys did so you can't come this week. You can start coming down again next week as long as you pay the half-crown on Monday morning."

"I'm comin' down with Brownie at lunch time whether you like it or not!"

"You can walk down with Brownie as far as you like but you won't be coming in!"

When lunchtime arrived, Eubanks fell in at Brownies side and refused to leave. He walked all the way down to mi mums' house. When I let the boys in through the front door, Eubanks forced his way into the house and refused to leave. As I was making the toast and tea for everyone in mi mums' kitchen, he started to make a big nuisance of himself and made rude jokes about mi mums' house so I said to him, "Alright Ted, I'll make you a deal. If you go back out the front door, I'll push a piece of toast through the letter box for you."

After a few minutes he agreed to go out of the houses but not before I threatened to call the cops and tell them he forced his way into mi mums' house. Before he left the kitchen, because I had the upper hand over him, he pulled out his dick and stuck it in mi mums' teapot and started to laugh. He also encouraged the other boys to laugh. This made me really angry. I said to one of the other boys, "Alright, go and call the cops and if not I'll go and call them and put you all in with Eubanks!"

"Alright Swindells, I'm going." Eubanks said "But I still want mi piece of toast shoved through the letter box."

"Not before you're out of here!" I said.

Once this big fat bully was outside, I locked the door behind him.

'BANG, BANG, BANG!' He knocked very loudly on the front door.

"What do you want?" I said.

"Shove mi piece of toast through!"

"Fuck you Eubanks. I changed mi mind now!"

"I'll go around to the back door and make a commotion so the neighbors know what's going on!"

"Fuck you!" I said as I walked away from the front door.

3 minutes later he was thumping on the back door. I shouted though the letterbox to him, "Go away, you're making a nuisance out of yourself!"

"If you give me one piece of toast I'll go away quietly and not bother you again."

"Alright." I said. "One piece and that's it!"

As soon as a piece of toast and jam was ready, I said to him, through the letter box, "I've got one piece here for you and I'll shove it through the letter box if you promise to go away and leave us alone!"

"Alright, shove it through!"

I opened the letterbox door and pushed the piece of toast and jam through. Fat pudgy fingers grabbed it and it disappeared out of sight.

I thought that was going to be the end of it but after a couple of minutes he started to shout and bang on the door again!

"What d'ya want now?" I said.

"Give me some more toast Swindells. I'm hungry!"

"Go away. You've already had one piece and your reneging in the deal!"

"I'm not going until you give me another slice!"

As I was watching the toast cook, I noticed a slice that had a large air-bubble in it but the whole didn't go all the way through to the other side. I had a brainwave!!

"I'll get rid of him." I said to the boys.

"What ya gonna' do Dick?" said Brownie.

"Just watch me and you'll see."

Opening mi mothers' cutlery drawer, I took out an old butter knife and opened the cellar door.

"Don't feed that piece of toast to the dog, Dick. I'll eat it."

"You won't
eat it when I'm finished with it!" I said.

"Where ya going with the toast and knife, Dick?"

"Come on and I'll show you."

When we all got down the cellar steps Raja was happy see us all and I was happy to see what Raja had left on the cellar floor! Bending down over a large solid dog turd, I sliced a big piece off of it and pushed it into the air bubble hole in the piece of toast.

"Lets go back upstairs." I said, amidst 3 loud, laughing voices.

"Now what?" said Brownie.

"Now I'm going to cover the dog shit with a liberal serving of margarine and jam."

"Then what?"

"Then, I'm going to push it through the letterbox for Eubanks. Just watch!"

"Eubanks!" I called out.

"Where's my toast Swindells?"

"Coming right up Teddy." I said. "Open the letterbox!"

The letterbox opened and I pushed the dog-shit sandwich through. The fat fingers grabbed it and the letterbox snapped tightly shut.

We all sat down at mi mums table and waited for the results. Eubanks voice boomed through the letterbox again.

"That was really great! Give me one more slice and I really will go this time Swindells. I won't bother you anymore after that and I won't beat you up either!"

"Alright Ted but this is definitely the last piece! All right?"

"All right Swindells, it's a deal."

After toasting a piece of bread I dug out a large hole in one side of it and then went back downstairs in the cellar and filled the hole with some fresh dog shit spread. Back upstairs I covered the dogshit spread with another liberal amount of margarine and jam.

"Last piece coming through Ted!" I said, as I again pushed the slice of toast through the letterbox door.

Everybody maintained silence again as we listened for Ted crunching down on the dogshit sandwich. After he'd finished he called through the letterbox, "Thanks Swindells, that was great. It'll keep me going until 4 O'clock this afternoon. You're not a bad bloke after all! It will save me the trouble of beating you up now. I'm off! See you all later. I watched him walk past mi mums' kitchen window and off up the street he went.

"Alright, the coast is clear. Eubanks has gone!" I said.

Raucous laughter burst out of everyone for about 10 minutes.

"That was really a good show Dick", said Tony Steele.

"He won't stick his dick in mi mums' teapot again for some time!" I said, between laughs.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up or we'll be late back for school."

Later on that afternoon, Johnnie Brown came to see me at one of the school breaks.

"Ted's after you Dick. He's gonna' punch your head in after school!"

"Why would he be after me?" I said. "The last time I saw him leaving mi mums' house he was all right towards me?"

"He knows you put dog shit on his pieces of toast!"

"Well, if he found out, it must have come from you."

"It just sort-of slipped out when we were talking in class." Brownie said.

"Like hell! You told him on purpose Brown! Here's the rest of ya weeks dinner money back. I don't want to hang around with you anymore. You're either for me or against me so it's pretty plain to me that you're against me, which is alright by me because at least I know where I stand with you now!"

Brownie was not too happy about what I said because I told him the Truth.

<<>>>

Eubanks was waiting for me with his cronies when I came out of class at 4 O'clock. I had to dodge around him so as not to get beaten up. I gave Eubanks the slip for about 2 weeks until finally one evening; him and his mates were hiding behind a wall in wait for me!

When he finally grabbed hold of me he gave me 2 or 3 hard punches before I was able to get away. Brown showed his true colors because he was with Eubanks at the time, egging him on and laughing.

I was determined that Eubanks would not make me cry and as soon as he let go of my Blazer, I made my getaway at top speed. Eubanks was a fatty so he could not catch me, although he tried.

"SCREW YOU EUBANKS!" I said as I ran down the road. "YOU TOO BROWNIE! I'M GLAD YOUR TATTOO GOT FUCKED UP. YOU DESERVE ALL YOU GET!"

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

DROWNING IN BLACKPOOL

As a child, I went with the family to Blackpool, (a seaside resort). I was 6 years old and boys being boys, I decided to go in the Ocean for a swim. Conveniently, I forgot that my idea of swimming was to flop my arms and kick one leg, the other keeping good contact with the bottom of the small swimming pool in Sowerby Bridge in Yorkshire. I was doing quite well until a large wave rolled clean over the top of me and then proceeded to drag me out about 20 feet or so. When I felt for the bottom it was gone! I immediately sunk down about 15 feet and there I found the bottom. Horrendous fear and panic arose as I had swallowed, what I perceived to be, half of the Atlantic Ocean. Somehow I struggled to the surface and before I could catch a breath another wave went over me.

There was a small boat about 10 feet away from me with 6 or 8 tourists, laughing and joking as they waited to go out for a trip. The fear, desperation and uncontrollable panic stopped me from crying out for help. I did my best but nothing came out, except seawater. Down I went for a second
time and hit the bottom again.

This time I met the God of Death. I don't need to tell what that was like. He said to me, "You're going to die today. I'll be waiting for you!" At that stage, I think I pissed myself. Somehow I got to the surface again. Once there I focused on a young man I could see in the boat. I had been taught to pray, so in a nano-second I prayed, pleaded and begged for my life to be saved. My prayer went so, " Please, please, please save me God! I will do anything you tell me to do for the rest of my life if You will please save me!! At that point I went down for the third time. The pain in my head and lungs was now at bursting point. As far as I was concerned my life was over before it had really begun and I knew He was at the bottom waiting for me. As that thought flashed through the mind, a hand grabbed my hair and yanked me to the surface. The next thing I remember was coughing up the Atlantic Ocean in the relative safety of the small boat.

The young man, who I had focused on, just before I went down again, had hauled me out. "Are you alright son?" he asked. "Are you OK?"
"I'm alright." I coughed and blurted out.
"Where's your mother? I'll take you back to her."
"No, please mister. Don't tell mi mum. She'll kill me. I'm not supposed to go in the water!"

Once he saw I was all right, he turned the boat around and put me on the beach. When I got back to where my mother was sitting, she said, "Where the bloody hell have you been, you little bleeder? Have you been in that bloody water when I told you not to?"
"No mum, only paddling."
"Stay here with me and don't go bloody wandering off on your own. And don't go in that bloody water again. People who can't swim have drowned in the water. I'm sure you don’t want to experience that do you?"
"No mum." I said.

From that day to this, I have lived on borrowed time. I have also kept the promise I made. There has been many times over the years that I questioned my plea for help. Regardless of that I am still here, following His orders. The first time I heard that voice again, (after Blackpool) it said to me, "Leave this place and go to Australia."

By the way, tattooing my head was not my bright idea. I'll give you one guess who thought that one up!

Friday, September 29, 2017

THE WORLD IS AN ILLUSION ~ {LYRICS WRITTEN 30 YEARS AGO BY GURU OM}




























Were you present at your birth?
Do you remember dying?
Do you really understand?
Or do you spend your lifetime trying?
People tell you who you are
And what you should be doing.
But you never stop and look yourself,
You just spend your lifetime fooling.
*
*

Give it up,
Give it up,
The World is an illusion.
Give it up,
Give it up,
It causes much confusion.
*
*

If you stop just for a moment
And you care to look inside
You'll find out what I'm saying
Is so easy to realize.
Then you won't have to be and do
Just what they want you to.
You can be yourself at any cost
And do well what you do.
*
*

Give it up,
Give it up,
The World is an illusion.
Give it up,
Give it up,
It causes much confusion.
*
*

You pretend that you don't know
Just what you want to do.
'Cause it saves you from the pain
If you cannot follow through.
And freedom is a heavy word
You've learned to go around.
It keeps you stuck in your small world
And pulls you further down.
*
*

Give it up,
Give it up,
The World is an illusion.
Give it up,
Give it up,
It causes much confusion.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

HOW NAIVE CAN YOU BE? THE GANJA DEAL


"Hey Yorky mate, are we playing anywhere on Thursday night?"
"Yea Bob, I've got a Jazz gig at a bar on the North Shore, nine till twelve."
"Well good on ya, mate. That's on my side of Sydney. What time are you gonna pick me up?
"Probably about 8:15. The gigs not far from your place so there's not much use in getting there too early."
"Have you got any gigs for over Xmas yet?"
"No mate, I was thinking of having a few nights off."
"That would suit me fine. Mi mate, who plays in a three-piece, needs a piano player. The regular bloke is off to Tassie for the week with his old lady. She's been whinging about going down there for months."
"No worries Bob, I'm off up to Coffs Harbour for three or four days."
"Jesus mate, they grow some off the best Ganja this side off the black stump. How about bringing some of it back down to Sydney with ya?"
"I'm not a real connoisseur of Ganja Bob. I've only smoked it a few times, and I've never bought it before."
'It's real easy Yorky mate, you just hand over the bucks and they hand over the stuff, ya can't go wrong pal."
"How much does it sell for in Sydney?"
"Twice as much as you can get it up there for. You could make yourself a couple of easy bucks. It would pay for ya holiday."
"I don't know anyone down here who would buy it."
"Jesus mate, my mate Bernie will buy as much off it as you can get. He's stoned 24\7. He even smokes it in his sleep; besides it's in short supply down here, no one has any.Ya' can't go wrong sport."
"Well, you contact him and see what you can do. If it's as you say, I'll think about it."
"I'll give him a ring after the next break. How's that sound?"
"Sounds good to me Bob."

After the next set, Bob came back from the bar and handed me a beer and said
"Here ya go, Yorky mate, get this into ya, I called mi mate and he said whatever the Ganja costs you he'll double ya money as long as it's good stuff."
"OK mate I'll see what I can do."

A week later I found myself heading out of Sydney in a Northeasterly direction towards Coffs Harbor. Once I got out of the northern suburbs, it was a very pleasant drive as the road, more or less, followed the coastline all the way up to Coffs. My old orange 78 Holden Station Wagon was purring along, and the sun was reflecting off of the ocean. If you've ever wanted a great, memorable experience, drive all the way up to Queensland on this road; ya can't go wrong.
After about seven or eight hours of driving I hit the outskirts of Coffs. Coffs Harbor used to be a small coastal town. That was before the developers got their greedy, bloody claws into it. Now, from what I could see, they had ruined the place. I saw malls where small shops used to be, and big new houses where once stood good old Aussie Bush, (the Bastards).
Oh, there's a familiar site; an old, large, colorful Windmill that some Old Dutch bloke had shipped out from Holland in pieces. The local people said he was homesick and that’s why he had it moved, thousands of miles, on a boat, to Coffs. Thinking about it, it might have been easier to go back to Holland for a bloody holiday. Once it was reconstructed, he turned the bottom section of it into a high-class restaurant, which I must admit looked quite unique. I drove straight out of town, past, the Plantation Hotel and onwards to my mate Ken's place. On the right hand side of me was the beautiful Pacific Ocean and on the left was acres and acres of Banana Plantations. In Coffs, bananas grew all over the hillside. This scene was much more enjoyable to me than the over developed township. After fifteen minutes more driving I was knocking on Kens' front door.
"Yorky Mate!" he said, as he opened the front door. "Good to see ya mate. Ya made it all right. How was the drive up?"
"Not bad mate." I said, as we shook hands. "I'm bloody glad to be out of Sydney for a while. Your old lady doesn't mind me hanging out with you for a few days does she?"
"No mate, she'll be glad to talk to another Pommy Bastard. She gets sick of talking to me every day; that’s when I'm not out wind surfing, which is most of the time."
"Jesus Ken, you've got a great place here, right on the beach. You couldn’t get any closer if you tried mate."
"Only place for a life-long surfer to live Yorky. Mi daughter loves it too. She's like me. We can't keep her out of the water. Anyway, come in Yorky mate. It's too bloody warm standing on the doorstep."

A few hours later after our socializing was done, Ken and I took off for a couple of cold middies at his local Hotel. Once we got situated in some comfortable chairs I introduced the subject of Ganja.
"Hey Ken, do you know anyone around hear who and sells Ganja?"
"Jesus mate there are more marijuana growers around hear than there are Banana Plantations. I don't know any of my surfing mates who don't smoke."
"Do you still smoke mate?"
"Nah Yorky mate, my old lady really cops the shits when I smoke these days. She thinks it’s a bad influence on mi daughter. Can you fucking believe that? It's her bastard pommy upbringing that does it."
"Don't you have a puff before you go Wind Surfing?"
"Some times. The problem is; if I smoke too much, I stay out in the surf all fucking day. That really sends her over the top."
"She gets cranky eh?"
"You could say that. Put it this way; no pussy for a month lets me know she's not real fucking happy."
"Jesus Ken are you shitting me?"
"No mate, I'm Fair Dinkum."
"Let me ask you another dumb question. What's the use of being married if you're not getting any?"
"Good fucking question, Yorky mate. I've asked miself that more times than once and every time I come up with the same answer. Mi daughter mate. It would really put the kibosh on her life if I pulled the pin on her mother. Not to mention the fact that sometimes she's just bloody like her. Drink up Yorky mate it's my shout. Anyway, what are you so interested in ganja for? I thought you didn't smoke."
"I don't, well not very much anyway. Let me explain the deal to you."
Kenny listened while I went through the saga of the ganja and at the end he said,
"Sounds like a good plan to me Yorky, I'm sure I can line you up with a score before you go back to the Big Smoke, I'll call this bloke I know when we get home. Him and his mate are big time dealers around here. They're sure to have as much as you need. "

Later that evening, at Kens place, the doorbell rang. Kens old lady answered it.
"Its for you Kenneth." she said, as she walked back in the room. I don't want that Yobbo in my house. Take him down stairs to the den. I heard on the grapevine that he's a big-time drug dealer!"
"Jesus love, he sells a bit of Ganja now and again. That’s not drug dealing, that’s a hobby."
"I don't care what you call it Ken. You know my views on drugs!"
"Ok sweetheart, I'll take him in the basement. We can have a game of pool. Lets go Yorky mate. This is mi mate Bruce, Yorky. Ya' got any weed for sale?"
"Does a Roo shit in the bush mate? In all the time you've known me have you ever not seen me without weed for sale?"

Bruce was a sleazy looking Bastard if I ever saw one. His shifty eyes were all over the place except where they should be, in his head.
"Yorky's looking to buy a bit of Ganja to take back down to Sydney with him."
"We'll mate, you're talking to the right bloke." He said, as his shifty eyes quickly scanned my way, averting my eyes in the process.
"How much are you looking for, a couple of Pounds?"
"No mate." I said. "More like a quarter."
"Ounces or Pounds?"
"Pounds mate."
"Jesus Christ mate, I could smoke that in a fucking night on mi own."
"Yeah well, maybe you could Bruce, but I'm not a big time smoker."
"How much is it anyway?"
"For you mate, $200 an ounce and that’s cheap. You won't find it anywhere else cheaper than that. Me and my mate have the best prices on the east coast, and the best Ganja, I might add!"
"You got any with ya now?"
"Don't be silly mate. Ya think I drive around with it in mi old Ute. The cops have been watching me for months now. They're only waiting for one little excuse to pick me up. I've been busted before. One more time and I'll be vacationing in Grafton for a few months."
"Well you won't have far to go Bruce." said Ken, laughing. "Grafton's only an hours drive from here. Your mate could visit you on the week ends with a joint."
"Very fucking funny Kenny! You should be in the clubs mate. You're a laugh a fuckin' minute."
"I'm only joking with ya Bruce, for fucks sake. So when ya gonna bring us a bud around to try out?"
"Don’t you fucking trust me mate?"
"Sure I do Bruce but Yorky doesn't."
"Ya don't trust me mate?"
"Well, it's not that I don’t trust ya Bruce, but I would like a sample before I buy."
"Jesus Christ, what am I dealing with here, a bunch of fuckin' novices? Alright then, when ya going back down to Sydney?"
"Friday morning."
"I'll be back tomorrow with a small sample. I'm not a fucking charity ya know. People around here trust me. I've got my good name to consider!"
"Don't get the shits Bruce." said Kenny. "Yorky's right. He doesn't know you from a bar of soap. You could be a real gouging Bastard for all he knows."
"I've never gouged any bastard in mi life; 'Honest Bruce' is who I'm known as!"
"We're not accusing you of anything mate. Just like to be on the safe side, ya know." "Ok, I'll see see ya tomorrow evening, about the same time."

The next evening Bruce dropped off a reasonable-sized bud, which Ken and I tried, with no hesitation. Ken was much more of a toker than I was and he reckoned that the Ganja was well worth $200 an ounce.

Driving back down to Sydney with mi 4oz of Ganja tucked under the front seat; I was smiling to myself, thinking about all the money I was going to make when I got home.
'I can sell it for $400 an ounce. That would be double mi money and still a fair price for Bobs mate to pay. This little caper is too easy; if every thing goes well, I may decide to do this more often!'

The first thing I did when I arrived back was to call Bob. He said he'd send his mate around to pick up the stuff.
"Tell him to bring the cash with him. I don't do credit." That was the last thing I said to him as I put the phone down. An hour later Bobs mate, Bernie, was ringing my doorbell. "How are ya mate?" he said as I let him in.
"I'm Bernie, Bobs mate."
"Yea I know mate, Bob said you were on your way over."
"Ya got the weed?"
"Yea, sit down at the table Bernie I'll go get it. Here ya go mate." I said, as I handed him the bag,
"Ya got the money?"
"Yea. Ya don't mind if I check it out first do ya?"
"No mate, go ahead."
With that, he tipped the bag of Ganja out on the table and immediately pulled a weird face.
"What the fuck is this shit!" he said as he moved the Ganja around on the table.
"What d'ya mean? What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"This stuff is fuckin' shit man! Is this some sort of a fucking joke? I just drove all the way over the harbor bridge to see this crap!"
"I don't know what your talking about mate." I said, as his face changed radically before my eyes.
"Are you fuckin' kidding me sport, you had me drive all the way out here to look at a bunch of fucking shake?"
"What are you talking about mate? What the fuck is shake anyway?"
"You're fuckin' serious aren't you? You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"
"Look mate." I said. as I looked him square in the eyes. "Bob asked me to bring some Ganja back from Coffs. He said Sydney was all dried up so while I was up there I met this bloke who I bought this from, that's all I know."
"Did you try it out before you bought it?
"Sure I did. Ya think I'm fucking stupid! He brought a bud around for me and mi mate to try, then dropped this stuff of just before I left to come back down here."
"Did you get ripped on it?" Course I did! Mind you I haven't smoked much, I've only tried it a couple of times. What the hell is shake anyway?"
"Jesus Christ mate, you really did come down in the last shower! Ya not shit'n me are ya.?"
"No mate, I'm not a bullshit artist. I did it as a favour for Bob and I thought I might make a few bucks in the process."
"Well mate, all I can tell you from 30 years of dealing is, you've been well and truly shafted!"
"So what your saying is the weed is no good."
"No good mate? That’s this years' understatement. This shit wouldn't make a good cup of tea!"
"Oh for fucks sake." I said. What do you suggest I do with it?"
"You can shove it up ya fuckin arse for all I care!" He said as he got up from the chair. "That was a waste of my valuable time."
"Look mate, don’t get cranky about it." I said. From what you're saying I've been ripped off. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stand here and let you fucking well make matters worse by insulting me!"
Now I really had the shits, the pulse in my navel was starting to beat strongly and I was entertaining the idea of smacking this rude bastard in the mouth.
"Ok, Ok mate." said Bernie. "Settle down. I didn't mean any harm. You got ripped off, and you've got a right to get cranky."
"Do you have any decent suggestions for me?" I asked.
"Yea, I do mate. Never buy drugs from some one you don't know, especially when you have no idea what you're looking at. How much did you pay for this crap?"
"Eight hundred bucks!"
"Jesus Christ! Well mate, chalk it up to experience and consider your self lucky. They could have gotten you for a lot more!"

After Bernie left, I sat at the table looking at four ounces of shake. Eight hundred dollars it cost me to learn a new word, SHAKE, a bunch of stalks and leaves. Now! Let me tell you, I have been conned a few times in my life and not once has it ever felt good and this time was no exception. After ten minutes of silent contemplation with a genuine bowl of St Bruno Flake I decided that action was required. I would simply call Ken, get Bruces' number and call him up and politely explain the situation to him, and a genuine misunderstanding will be put right."
"Bruce, how are ya mate, its Yorky."
"What do ya want mate?"
"It's about the Ganja."
"What about it?"
"I tried to sell it to a mate of mine and he said it was no good."
"What do ya mean no good?"
" Mi mate said it was a bunch of shake."
"So why are you calling me?"
"I would appreciate a refund as I can't sell it."
"Look mate you tried it before you bought it you had no complaints then."
"Yea, but this stuff you put in the bag is not the same as I tried."
"Listen mate, I gave you a great deal, I put more than 4oz in the bag. You should think your self lucky mate."
"All the same Bruce I would like a refund please."
"What do you think I am mate, a fucking shop?" You get no fucking refunds from me. You bought it and your stuck with it! Don't fucking call here again ya bastard!"
With that he put the phone down as I heard a loud click in mi ear. The only course of action now was another bowl of Bruno. My second bowl of Bruno now in ashes, I decided it was time to give Bruce one more opportunity to manifest some integrity. After dialing his number I waited quite calmly as I listened to the dial tone.
"G'day." said Bruces' voice on the other end of the line.
"Bruce, this is Yorky mate."
"What do you fucking want? I thought I told you not to fuckin' call here again."
"Yea, ya did Bruce, but I forgot to tell you something."
"What's that?"
"Listen to me you fucking scumbag, cock sucking, mongrel-bred, mother-fucking drug addict, if my $800 is not returned within the next twenty-four hours you know what I'm gonna do 'fuck face'? I'm going to take this bag of useless shit you gouged me on and I'm going to wrap it up like a Xmas present and I'm going to post it off to the Coffs Harbor Police Station to 'Care of the Desk Seargeant' with your full-fucking-name and address on it, arsehole. Do you fucking well understand me, anus breath? You ripped off the wrong one this time, you mongrel bred cunt!"
With that I slammed down the phone and caught mi finger under the cradle. 'Fuck me dead!' I said out loud. 'What else can go wrong today!'
Within ten minutes my phone started ringing. I picked it up and a voice on the other end said, "Yorky, it's Bruce."
"What do you want? ya Bastard?"
"You're not going to do something you might regret are you.?"
"No mate, I'm gonna do something that you will regret. You'll regret the fucking day you ripped old Yorky off mate. I've dealt with much bigger mongrel-bred Bastards than you Bruce. Don't fucking call here again mate.!"
"Now hold on Yorky, hold on a minute. Let me talk to my partner about it and I'll call you back within the hour."
"I'll be here mate. I'm not going anywhere. I'm broke!"
An hour later the phone rang and Bruce very politely explained to me how a mistake had been made with the Baggies. He asked for my address and informed me that an over night bank cheque would be sent to me as soon as he got off the phone. He then asked me quite politely if that would be a satisfactory arrangement and would that put the matter to rest.
"No worries Bruce." was my reply.
The next day a Special Delivery letter arrived with a bank cheque made out in my name to the tune of $800! There was only one more thing bothering me now; I had mi $800 back and 4 oz of fine Coffs Harbor shake. I didn't want to rip off Bruce so I packed his 4 oz of shake in a small cardboard box and sent it back to him FIRST CLASS MAIL. I didn't want it to get lost, seeing as the scales were now well balanced.

YORKY LEARNS TO DRIVE. ANOTHER STORY FROM THE OUTBACK.

























It didn't take long to put mi sheets and a blanket on the bed and I opened up one port to use for a cupboard. I lived that way for years 'cause it was easy to close the case and move when necessary.
That evening Jim lit up the hurricane lamps so we could see to eat. After, we listened to the radio for a while, then went to bed early so as to get a good start in the morning. I never had a lamp in my room, just a candle which Jim gave me after I promised not to sleep with it burning 'cause the old house was so dry, a spark or stray flame would have sent it up in smoke within seconds.

The following morning we were up at 4:30 so we loaded the old Bedford up with steel Waratah posts (10 to a bundle), the chain saw, shovels, crowbars and picks, half-mile coils of high-tensile wire, barbwire, strainers, fencing pliers and various other tools to do the job with.
Before we took off Jim said, "Grab a couple of empty plonk flagons and fill 'em up with tank water. You're gonna need 'em."
"I'll only need one."
"I'd say you'll need about six mate, but you'll have to make do with 2. We'll take 2 each 'cause there's no water where were going."
"Alright mate.", I said. "If you say so. No problem."

After breakfast Jim grabbed the large esky box and we went outside to the truck. I went to get in the passengers seat and he said to me. "Hoy, git out of there. You must be joking mate. You can chauffeur me up the paddock!"
"But I can't drive Jim!", I said with a look of astonishment on mi face.
"No such word as 'can't', Yorky and ya certainly won't learn anything sat in the passengers seat watching me. Hop in the drivers seat mate."
This was amazing! I'd wanted to learn to drive for nearly six months and now here's this bloke telling me to chauffeur him up the paddock, out to the scrub.
"What if I have a crash Jim?"
"What if ya do mate? I'll just kick ya arse and we'll start again."
I knew he was only kidding because he had a big, warm smile on his face which I could just make out from behind the cloud of cigar smoke.
"First of all, put ya foot on the clutch and pull her out of gear into neutral, then jiggle the stick to make sure she's still not in gear. Turn the key on, give her 5 or 6 pumps on the excelerator 'cause she's cold. Then ya press the button and she should start."
I nervously followed the instructions to the letter and the old Bedford roared into life.
"She sounds a bit noisy Jim."
"Don't worry about that mate. The back end of the exhaust pipe is missing. Now, you've got to double the clutch on this old lady so every time you want to shift gears pull the stick into neutral, let out the clutch and push it in again. Then pull it the rest of the way down into gear. Away we go mate! We're off! That's what the monkey said when he sat on the circular saw watching the races. They're off! Let 's go Yorky!"
I pushed in the clutch and shoved the long stick up towards first gear.
"Let the clutch out slowly and give her a few revs!"
The old Bedford shot forwards and started to kangaroo hop out of the yard.
"Push the clutch back in Mate and try her again. This time give her more revs and let the clutch out slower until she grabs."
I repeated the instructions and this time the old Bedford eased into motion without a single jerk.
"Ya got her mate! Now, once ya git a few revs up, double the clutch as ya change gear. The gears are marked on the letter H on top of the knob."
I changed into second with a few grinds. Then I heard Jim shout, "Look out mate! We're heading for a big Box Tree!"
"Oh shit!", I said as I look back up from the gear stick knob and out the windscreen. We were off the track and heading towards a big tree! I pulled the big steering wheel around to the left and back on to the track.
"Jeesus mate! Ya had mi worried there for a minute!"
"I'm sorry mate. I was trying to read the gear numbers."
"I nearly swallowed mi Monopole, Yorky! I don't mind ya rooting the truck up but I'll be pissed if ya make me smash one of mi cigars up mate!"

Nothing seemed to worry Jim as we bumped up the track. Sometimes on it, sometimes off it.
"Ya see that gate way up there, ahead of us mate?"
"Yeh."
"Well, we've got to go through it but preferably I'd like to open it first!"
"What d'ya mean Jim?"
"I mean, this old lady hasn't got any brakes! So make sure ya give her plenty of room to slow down."
"What? No brakes?"
"No brakes.", said Jim with a smile. "But ya can push the brake peddle if ya don't believe me. They went out a couple of weeks ago but ya never know, maybe they came back on their own!"
I pushed the brake peddle to the floor but nothing happened. The old Bedford never missed a beat.
"Oh shit Jim! What now?"
"Ya see that Gum tree overhanging the track up ahead? As soon as ya get level with it push her into neutral and we'll cruise the rest of the way up to the gate."
"What if she won't slow down in time?", I said, very nervously.
"Well it'll save me opening the gate, won't it!"
He gave me a reassuring wink and lit up his cigar and surveyed the scenery out of the passengers' side window, which had no glass in it.
When we got level with the Gum Tree I pushed her out of gear into neutral. As we headed for the big iron gate a couple of large potholes slowed us down and the old truck stopped about 15 feet in front of the gate.
"PHEW! That was close Jim."
"Close mi arse mate. Ya mean to tell me ya gonna make me walk all that way to open the gate?"
"We're only 15 feet away."
"Yeh, but the gate opens the other way mate, so I've gotta git out and walk 15 feet before I git to the gate! Never mind Yorky, ya can stop closer to it on the way back home.", he said with a grin.
By the time we got out to the paddocks where we were to start fencing, I was not sure whether I wanted to learn driving or not but Jimmy reassured me by saying, "You're gonna make a beaut driver Yorky. Ya did as well as I could have done it miself!"
"How do you know which Gum trees to use as markers for slowing down?"
"Easy mate, I've hit those gates miself before today." said with a wink.

Monday, September 18, 2017

PYTHAGORUS CALLED THIS SUBSTANCE 'THE UNIVERSAL MEDICINE FOR MIND & BODY'


WHO IS HE?
&
WHAT IS IT?
 
READ THIS.
http://themercurialworld.blogspot.com/2017/05/how-gods-billboard-came-to-be.html

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

ANOTHER STORY FROM THE ADVENTURES OF YORKY THE POMMY SHEARER


As well as learning how to shear, I had a slight handicap to work with. The wool-classer was a mongrel-bred bastard who tried to make it as hard for me as possible by saying to Freeman that my learning to shear was interfering with my board-boys job. The only reason I could see why he was acting like this was, he fancied himself a shearer. He, himself, could shear a sheep in about 10 minutes, and by now, as long as it was a good-combing sheep, I was down to 8 minutes. Freeman was very supportive. He offered to do my job while I was learning, plus the fact that he was aware that the wool-classer had bet against me, the Victorian bastard!

Each Friday night we would all drive back to Lake Cargelligo for the weekend. The first, and only stop, was at Giltraps Hotel. I was now, very slowly, starting to be able to hold a fair amount of grog. (It goes with the territory!)
The whole team, except for the wool-classer, would party on at Giltraps. After the bar closed down we would all move into the Sow Pen where we'd play the jukebox and generally have a good time.

Jimmy Kelly, who was one of the shearers, was also an Aborigine. He lived at the Mission, about 10 miles out of town. Johnny was a pretty decent bloke, (when he was sober) but like most Aborigines that drink, he would get a bit argumentative when he was full.
Most Abos, around the Lake, did not like to work very much which meant they were always short of money for grog. Every Friday night, all of Johnnys' relations would be trying to bum his hard-earned money from him for a flagon of cheap plonk. I used to sit and watch Johnny quite a bit. It must have been very difficult for him, 'cause he had one foot in the white fellas' world and the other in the black fellas' world. By then end of the evening Johnny would have given away, probably, a third of his weeks' money. This money would only be returned months later, probably when he was out of work. Saturday morning, I used to see Johnny in town in his fairly new Ute. He and his wife and children were always clean and well-dressed. Although in my eyes he was a really good bloke, most white fellas' still saw him as a 'Bung'.

Since I'd been working in the sheds, I had decided to live at Giltraps Hotel, not because I didn't like Twitcheys, but Giltraps was cheaper and a lot of the shearers used it as their watering hole. Giltraps wife was a very small lady. She was about 5'2" and weighed about 115 pounds. She had blondish-gray hair, a very pleasant face and a good, kind nature. Besides running the domestic side of the Hotel, she also worked in the bar whenever necessary. If that wasn't enough to keep her occupied, she had a swag of kids of various ages. Cath Giltrap was always polite and cordial with me. Whenever possible,
she would not put anyone else in the room with me. She understood and respected the fact that I was a 'loner'.
Even though I spent a good deal of my time in the bar, sometimes, when I was short of money, I would say to her, "I've had a slack week Cath, d'ya mind if I pay you for the room next week?"
"That's alright Yorky. I trust ya' but don't let it get too far behind."
As soon as money came in, Cath Giltrap was the first on the list to pay.
One week, the Hotel was unusually full, so she said to me, "I've gotta put someone in ya' room Yorky, in that spare bed. We're all full up this week."
"No worries Cath. I know you always fill up the other rooms first."
The new bloke who lived with me for the week was a half-Abbo from Uabalong. His name was Kennedy. He was a pretty quiet, clean and polite bloke until he was on the grog. At those times, he was hopeless!
On Saturday afternoon, I came back to Giltraps. I'd been doing a bit of shopping that afternoon down the main street. The window in my room looked out onto the main street of the Lake. As I passed it, I got a funny sort of feeling. Instead of going straight to the bar for a game of pool, something pulled me to the left, down the corridor to Number 9. When I pushed open the door, the room was full of smoke! As I looked around the back of the door, where the spare bed was, Kennedy was fast asleep and snoring! Six-inch flames were dancing around the edge of the mattress and a burned-out fag was stuck to his fingers.
"Wake up ya fucking bastard!", I roared as I shook the shit out of him. He was still as drunk as a monkey. I ran to the shower room which was at the far-end of the corridor and filled up a large bucket of cold water. When I got back to the room, he was trying to get out of bed, still in a drunken state. I heaved the bucket of cold water over him and the bed. Kennedy coughed and spluttered as he became conscious. Once he realized he was not dreaming, he jumped out of bed. It took a couple more large buckets of water to put out the fire. When Cath Gilbert found out that the bed had been charred, she was not too pleased let me tell you! Kennedy, got his marching orders and I was left, once more, in peace.
Once all of Giltraps locals found out what happened, the jokes were on me.
"G'day Yorky. I heard ya tried to barbeque a 'bung' this afternoon!"
"Very funny,", I said as they cracked up in laughter.
>>>>>>>>>>>
(I have never condoned or tolerated the injustices that was & is now today still,  put upon the first people!)

Friday, August 25, 2017

WHATEVER HAS DIMENSIONS IS DESTRUCTABLE

























The economy is collapsing
under the weight of desire.
*
*

True prayer
is
sitting
in
the
silence.

*
*

Whatever you
become
dependent on
can only
weaken you.
*
*

All forms
of
attachment
can only
end in
misery.
*
*

The value of money
has decreased to
such a degree
that it is
becoming
meaningless.
*
*

When there is
nothing going on,
you can enjoy
each others
company.
It's called
SATSANG;
'In the company
of Truth'.

*
*

How can you expect to know God
when you don't even know yourself?
*
*

The economy
& the ecology
are inseparable.
*
*

I serve
my heart.
Whatever
makes it
happy.
*
*

Knowing is within the mind.
Beyond the framework
there is nothing
to know.
It manifests as
Direct Knowledge.
*
*

Whatever has dimensions
is destructible.
Only Dimensionless Reality
is indestructible.
*
*

The world, in and of itself, has no reality whatsoever.
It is your own private dream.
It is your own creation.
If you have a problem with it, do not blame.
Ask yourself why you created such a world.
*
*

There is a world
within every word.
When you take your focus off
of a few thoughts that you had,
those worlds die & you don't
even bat an eyelid.
*
*

The eyes blink at 1/60th of a second. Anything faster than that is seen as MAGIC.
When you want to know how the magician does it, you have to watch the illusion from beginning to end, without blinking. Guaranteed you will catch him.
*
*

Indestructible
comes along with
destructible.
*
*

For those who are attracted
to the destructible,
they are addicted to fear.
Those who are attracted
to the indestructible
are addicted to love.
*
*

I found the goldmine
within myself.
It gives off the most
incredible golden light
that I have ever seen.
The Power of the Sun
illuminates it.
*
*

The
Work
works.
*
*

Help comes
with the
asking.
*
*

Love says,
"Yes
I will
support
that."
*
*

Power is in
the hands
of the people.

Thursday, August 17, 2017

DEALING WITH A BULLY..ANOTHER TALE FROM 'AN INHERITANCE FROM YORKSHIRE'


Xmas was on its way again so mi mum asked me and mi sisters what we would like for the occasion.

"I want a Brindle Greyhound for Xmas so I can go rabbiting on the moors." I said.

"You're getting no bloody Brindle Greyhound out of me!" sez Iris.

"Then why bother to ask me what I want?"

This type of conversation went backwards and forwards all the way up till a couple of weeks before Xmas.

One evening, Iris said to me, "You can have a Springer Spaniel if you want a dog but I'm not buying a bloody Greyhound. They look like they've never been fed for a bloody month of Sundays!"

I was not interested in a Springer Spaniel but that's what they decided to buy me for Xmas so I just had to make the best of it. I picked the puppy up from the station on the 24th of December. Although I did not want a Springer Spaniel, it was a bit hard not to like it when I opened the crate and it ran out and licked my face. It was so happy to be out of the crate as it ran around in small circles not knowing what to do.

Over the months, Raja grew into a fine dog but my heart was never in him because I always wanted a Greyhound. 'Spaniels are not bad dogs.' I thought but they're no use at catching rabbits. During the day when we were at school and Iris and Jim were at work, Raja lived downstairs in the large cellar room. It was a great big room with a concrete slab floor and a sliding window, which let lots of light in for him.

<<>>

Around this time, I had devised another business scheme where I could make misen a good few bob as the price of cigarettes and sweets was always going up. Ryburn School used to run a school lunch program. Every child who wanted to eat the school dinners could do so for 5/- a week. Some kids used to live quite close to the school so they would usually go home for dinners. Boston Street was about a 15 minute run from Ryburn School. Unbeknownst to mi mother, I decided to keep mi 5/- dinner money and run home of a lunch time and make misen a cup of tea and some toast and jam. Now I had 5 bob a week extra to survive on. After I had been doing this for about a month I had another hair-brained scheme which I presented to a few of the boys who used to smoke behind the back of the Gym.

"This is how it works." I said "You all get 5 bob a week from your mothers for your school dinner, so every Monday morning, instead of paying the 5 bob to the class teacher you can pay me 2/6d and keep 2/6d for yourselves and out of the 2/6d you pay me you can come down to mi mothers place and I'll make you all 4 pieces of toast with margarine and raspberry jam on it. Oh, and one pot of tea between however many of you decide to come."

"That's not a bad idea Dick Lad." Said one boy. "4 pieces of toast and jam will be much tastier than those rotten school dinners and I'll have half-a-crown a week left for fags. I'll start next Monday!"

Before the following Monday morning had rolled around I had signed up 4 boys for my school dinner scheme. When Monday mornings arrived, each boy gave me half-a-crown, which meant I had collected 10 bob plus I own 5 bob dinner money. That meant I now had 15 bob in mi pocket. I was rich, beyond my imagination.

There was about 20 large slices in a loaf of bread. I had already figured out that I could feed all 4 boys for a cost of about 4 bob a week. 15/- minus 4 bob expenses would leave me with 11 bob a week, clear profit!

The first Monday we all met a pre-arranged area in the playground and as soon as all 4 boys were present we took off at a fast run down to mi mums house. Before we got to the top of Boston Street I told the boys that they were to go down to the front door of the house because most of the neighbors lived in the back kitchens during the day and I didn't want nosy neighbors telling mi mum that a bunch of schoolboys were seen entering her premises when she was away at work. I made each boy 4 pieces of toast and jam and a cup of Liptons' tea. After everyone was finished, I cleaned the place up so mi mum would not know, then we made our way slowly back up the hill to school, smoking and laughing and having a good old time!

Each morning, before I went to school, I would buy a large loaf of bread and hide it in mi room along with the jar of jam and the tub of margarine. After a couple of months of this, I got so good at cooking up the toast without burning it that the boys gave me the nickname of 'Toast Man'.

<<>>

One day a couple of the boys decided they'd had enough toast and jam to last them till the end of their school days so they stopped coming for toast and went back to paying for school dinners. This meant I was now 2 customers short and minus 5 bob a week, which I had already got used to having, therefore, I had to go back around the school Gym wall at first break and drum up some more business.

Johnny Brown decided he would like to give a couple of week's trial and another boy, Ted Eubanks said he'd start coming down as well. Eubanks was a great big fat kid who was well known as one of the schools toughest bullies, so I didn't have a great deal of say in the matter.

The first week Brown and Eubanks paid their half crown each and everything seemed to go quite well until Eubanks started asking for more than the agreed upon amount of toast.

"Give me another couple a' pieces of toast, Swindells! I'm still hungry!"

"No." I said. "4 slices is what you’ve paid for and you've already eaten all 4. There's no more for you until tomorrow!"

"I'm not coming down here next week! I don't like like this bloody deal!" said Eubanks.

"Suit ya' self. You're the only one who has ever complained so far."

The following Monday when I went around the boys to collect their half-crowns, Eubanks said "I'm not coming down this week. I'm spending the whole 5 bob on fags. Anyway, I'm already sick of toast and jam."

"Alright, no problem." I said. "I'll find somebody else to replace you."

The following day, which was Tuesday, Eubanks said to me, "I've spent all mi money on fags so I've got nowt left to buy misen some lunch with. Can I come down to your place for some toast?"

"No, you didn't pay your money yesterday, the same as the other boys did so you can't come this week. You can start coming down again next week as long as you pay the half-crown on Monday morning."

"I'm comin' down with Brownie at lunch time whether you like it or not!"

"You can walk down with Brownie as far as you like but you won't be coming in!"

When lunchtime arrived, Eubanks fell in at Brownies side and refused to leave. He walked all the way down to mi mums' house. When I let the boys in through the front door, Eubanks forced his way into the house and refused to leave. As I was making the toast and tea for everyone in mi mums' kitchen, he started to make a big nuisance of himself and made rude jokes about mi mums' house so I said to him, "Alright Ted, I'll make you a deal. If you go back out the front door, I'll push a piece of toast through the letter box for you."

After a few minutes he agreed to go out of the houses but not before I threatened to call the cops and tell them he forced his way into mi mums' house. Before he left the kitchen, because I had the upper hand over him, he pulled out his dick and stuck it in mi mums' teapot and started to laugh. He also encouraged the other boys to laugh. This made me really angry. I said to one of the other boys, "Alright, go and call the cops and if not I'll go and call them and put you all in with Eubanks!"

"Alright Swindells, I'm going." Eubanks said "But I still want mi piece of toast shoved through the letter box."

"Not before you're out of here!" I said.

Once this big fat bully was outside, I locked the door behind him.

'BANG, BANG, BANG!' He knocked very loudly on the front door.

"What do you want?" I said.

"Shove mi piece of toast through!"

"Fuck you Eubanks. I changed mi mind now!"

"I'll go around to the back door and make a commotion so the neighbors know what's going on!"

"Fuck you!" I said as I walked away from the front door.

3 minutes later he was thumping on the back door. I shouted though the letterbox to him, "Go away, you're making a nuisance out of yourself!"

"If you give me one piece of toast I'll go away quietly and not bother you again."

"Alright." I said. "One piece and that's it!"

As soon as a piece of toast and jam was ready, I said to him, through the letter box, "I've got one piece here for you and I'll shove it through the letter box if you promise to go away and leave us alone!"

"Alright, shove it through!"

I opened the letterbox door and pushed the piece of toast and jam through. Fat pudgy fingers grabbed it and it disappeared out of sight.

I thought that was going to be the end of it but after a couple of minutes he started to shout and bang on the door again!

"What d'ya want now?" I said.

"Give me some more toast Swindells. I'm hungry!"

"Go away. You've already had one piece and your reneging in the deal!"

"I'm not going until you give me another slice!"

As I was watching the toast cook, I noticed a slice that had a large air-bubble in it but the whole didn't go all the way through to the other side. I had a brainwave!!

"I'll get rid of him." I said to the boys.

"What ya gonna' do Dick?" said Brownie.

"Just watch me and you'll see."

Opening mi mothers' cutlery drawer, I took out an old butter knife and opened the cellar door.

"Don't feed that piece of toast to the dog, Dick. I'll eat it."

"You wont' eat it when I'm finished with it!" I said.

"Where ya going with the toast and knife, Dick?"

"Come on and I'll show you."

When we all got down the cellar steps Raja was happy see us all and I was happy to see what Raja had left on the cellar floor! Bending down over a large solid dog turd, I sliced a big piece off of it and pushed it into the air bubble hole in the piece of toast.

"Lets go back upstairs." I said, amidst 3 loud, laughing voices.

"Now what?" said Brownie.

"Now I'm going to cover the dog shit with a liberal serving of margarine and jam."

"Then what?"

"Then, I'm going to push it through the letterbox for Eubanks. Just watch!"

"Eubanks!" I called out.

"Where's my toast Swindells?"

"Coming right up Teddy." I said. "Open the letterbox!"

The letterbox opened and I pushed the dog-shit sandwich through. The fat fingers grabbed it and the letterbox snapped tightly shut.

We all sat down at mi mums table and waited for the results. Eubanks voice boomed through the letterbox again.

"That was really great! Give me one more slice and I really will go this time Swindells. I won't bother you anymore after that and I won't beat you up either!"

"Alright Ted but this is definitely the last piece! All right?"

"All right Swindells, it's a deal."

After toasting a piece of bread I dug out a large hole in one side of it and then went back downstairs in the cellar and filled the hole with some fresh dog shit spread. Back upstairs I covered the dogshit spread with another liberal amount of margarine and jam.

"Last piece coming through Ted!" I said, as I again pushed the slice of toast through the letterbox door.

Everybody maintained silence again as we listened for Ted crunching down on the dogshit sandwich. After he'd finished he called through the letterbox, "Thanks Swindells, that was great. It'll keep me going until 4 O'clock this afternoon. You're not a bad bloke after all! It will save me the trouble of beating you up now. I'm off! See you all later. I watched him walk past mi mums' kitchen window and off up the street he went.

"Alright, the coast is clear. Eubanks has gone!" I said.

Raucous laughter burst out of everyone for about 10 minutes.

"That was really a good show Dick", said Tony Steele.

"He won't stick his dick in mi mums' teapot again for some time!" I said, between laughs.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up or we'll be late back for school."

Later on that afternoon, Johnnie Brown came to see me at one of the school breaks.

"Ted's after you Dick. He's gonna' punch your head in after school!"

"Why would he be after me?" I said. "The last time I saw him leaving mi mums' house he was all right towards me?"

"He knows you put dog shit on his pieces of toast!"

"Well, if he found out, it must have come from you."

"It just sort-of slipped out when we were talking in class." Brownie said.

"Like hell! You told him on purpose Brown! Here's the rest of ya weeks dinner money back. I don't want to hang around with you anymore. You're either for me or against me so it's pretty plain to me that you're against me, which is alright by me because at least I know where I stand with you now!"

Brownie was not too happy about what I said because I told him the Truth.

<<>>>

Eubanks was waiting for me with his cronies when I came out of class at 4 O'clock. I had to dodge around him so as not to get beaten up. I gave Eubanks the slip for about 2 weeks until finally one evening; him and his mates were hiding behind a wall in wait for me!

When he finally grabbed hold of me he gave me 2 or 3 hard punches before I was able to get away. Brown showed his true colors because he was with Eubanks at the time, egging him on and laughing.

I was determined that Eubanks would not make me cry and as soon as he let go of my Blazer, I made my getaway at top speed. Eubanks was a fatty so he could not catch me, although he tried.

"SCREW YOU EUBANKS!" I said as I ran down the road. "YOU TOO BROWNIE! I'M GLAD YOUR TATTOO GOT FUCKED UP. YOU DESERVE ALL YOU GET!"

Monday, August 14, 2017

WHAT WILL GET YOUR ATTENTION?








































When you sit
in a den of vipers,
don't complain
when you get eaten.
*
*

When the movie's over
you're left with
the reel.
*
*


There has to be
a nuclear war
because nothing else
has got your
attention.
*
*

The demands
on peoples' attention.
What are the demands
on your attention?
*
*

Necessity
is self-supporting.
Unnecessary
lives
& thrives
on attention
*
*

The Timeless says,
"I've got
all the time
in the world."
*
*

Anything
that exists
in time & space;
its days
are numbered.
*
*

The Chrysalis
has to die
for the sake
of the butterfly.
*
*

I once said to the 'world-savior',
"Did the world come to you & ask you to save it?"
"No", said he.
"Then how can you save something that doesn't want to be saved?
What makes you think the world needs saving?"
*
*

PERFECTION
INCLUDES
IMPERFECTION.