Sweezus stood up in the shallows and looked for his shoes and shorts. He couldn't see them anywhere.
He looked up towards the carpark at the top of the steps. No one was there.
Even his bicycle seemed to have disappeared.
He climbed up the steps and looked to left and right. There was a surfer's van down one end of the carpark. He wandered over.
Hey! he said, to the half-wetsuited surfer who was fiddling with something round the back. Have you seen my bike?
Dude! said the surfer. Is your name Sweezus or something?
Yeah, said Sweezus. Well?
Those guys that were here. They said, if you came back, to meet them at the Port Elliot Bakery. They've got your clothes and your bike.
Oh brilliant, said Sweezus. That's just ...... gnarly.
Hey dude! I can see you're no grommet!, said the surfer. Wanna come out? It's gunna be epic out there.
I know, said Sweezus. I was just out there. I met these two whales.
Stellar! said the surfer.
Yeah, but I don't wanna go out again, I'm still wrinkly, said Sweezus. Where's this Bakery?
Inland, that-a-way, said the surfer. Man, you wanna borrow some shorts?
Oh! Hell yeah! said Sweezus, ever good at languages. Thanks, dude!
Sweezus borrowed a pair of Hawaiian-style Mambo shorts, and set off in the direction the surfer had pointed. It wasn't long before he reached the main road at Port Elliot and spotted a long queue of people snaking out of a building and onto the footpath. There was a delicious smell in the air. It smelled like a bakery. He thought he could see Belle et Bonne, and the others, near the end of the queue. He started walking towards them.
Then he remembered, he was potentially under arrest.
What should he do?
Showing posts with label shorts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shorts. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Wittgenstein Wants to Have Fun
That isn't what I meant, said Wittgenstein. The poem is by William Blake. It's about a little lamb, not a little gull.
I know that, said Saint Nicholas. I was playing one of your language-games. Two of them in fact.
What were they? asked Wittgenstein.
In the first one I substituted gull for lamb in a poem, and the second was a deliberate misunderstanding, where I pretended I thought you were talking about the sandwich filling rather than the poem.
Very crass, said Wittgenstein. Please don't do it any more. I'm trying to forget work for a while. Let's go for a walk.
They walked inland, hoping to avoid the wind. They reached a river bank and crossed over a bouncing bridge. Then they followed a little-used trail up the side of a hill. The trail was lined with leg-scratching weeds.
Ouch! said Saint Nicholas. I knew I shouldn't have worn my shorts. Where are we anyway ?
I don't know, said Wittgenstein. But here's a sign.
What does it say? asked Saint Nicholas.
Caution, read Wittgenstein, in a ranger-like voice. This area is subject to seasonal change and trail collapse. In some places there is no trail or the trail has collapsed.
I don't much like the sound of that, said Saint Nicholas.
I do, said Wittgenstein. Come on. Are you with me?
They proceeded along the narrow prickly trail for a short distance, until they were forced to stop, the trail having collapsed.
A number of excited ants began to crawl over their shoes and up their legs. Wittgenstein and Saint Nicholas stamped their feet and jumped up and down. Then they turned and hurried back towards the river.
That was no fun, said Saint Nicholas.
Yes it was, said Wittgenstein. That was fun. Now, what shall we do next?
I know that, said Saint Nicholas. I was playing one of your language-games. Two of them in fact.
What were they? asked Wittgenstein.
In the first one I substituted gull for lamb in a poem, and the second was a deliberate misunderstanding, where I pretended I thought you were talking about the sandwich filling rather than the poem.
Very crass, said Wittgenstein. Please don't do it any more. I'm trying to forget work for a while. Let's go for a walk.
They walked inland, hoping to avoid the wind. They reached a river bank and crossed over a bouncing bridge. Then they followed a little-used trail up the side of a hill. The trail was lined with leg-scratching weeds.
Ouch! said Saint Nicholas. I knew I shouldn't have worn my shorts. Where are we anyway ?
I don't know, said Wittgenstein. But here's a sign.
What does it say? asked Saint Nicholas.
Caution, read Wittgenstein, in a ranger-like voice. This area is subject to seasonal change and trail collapse. In some places there is no trail or the trail has collapsed.
I don't much like the sound of that, said Saint Nicholas.
I do, said Wittgenstein. Come on. Are you with me?
They proceeded along the narrow prickly trail for a short distance, until they were forced to stop, the trail having collapsed.
A number of excited ants began to crawl over their shoes and up their legs. Wittgenstein and Saint Nicholas stamped their feet and jumped up and down. Then they turned and hurried back towards the river.
That was no fun, said Saint Nicholas.
Yes it was, said Wittgenstein. That was fun. Now, what shall we do next?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Three Weeks
Aha! said Pliny the Elder. The Tour de France is finished. What shall we do next?
I don't know about you, I said, but I am going to catch up on all the things that have happened at home in the last three weeks.
But that might take three weeks, said Pliny.
No, it won't, I said. Watch this:
Thursday: mum doesn't like her chickenless caesar salad at the library
Friday: photograph pineapple in bicycle helmet
Saturday: replace bedroom curtain which has mysterious rents
Sunday: daughter deactivates twitter account; giant saucer placed under mum's tree
Monday: daughter deactivates facebook account; I realise we are still nonvirtual friends
Tuesday: Qi Long looks at me when I say hello to him several times
Wednesday: think about tomorrow
Thursday: fall over dramatically on the way to a lecture, graze knee
Friday: headache
Saturday: election called; I hope Julia wins!
Sunday: daughter returns from London in shorts
Monday: washing and ironing
Tuesday: Li Feng gives me two pieces of warmed up cake to eat
Wednesday: IKEA
Thursday: Pi Approximation Day: watch movie Pi and eat pies at the science exchange
Friday: very cold day.
Saturday: put a rubber band round mum's curtain rod, debate with her its merits as marker
Sunday: Masterchef full of preposterous drama; Adam wins
There, Pliny, I said. That's what happened. Is there anything you would like me to elaborate upon?
Pliny looked perplexed.
What's IKEA? he said.
I don't know about you, I said, but I am going to catch up on all the things that have happened at home in the last three weeks.
But that might take three weeks, said Pliny.
No, it won't, I said. Watch this:
Thursday: mum doesn't like her chickenless caesar salad at the library
Friday: photograph pineapple in bicycle helmet
Saturday: replace bedroom curtain which has mysterious rents
Sunday: daughter deactivates twitter account; giant saucer placed under mum's tree
Monday: daughter deactivates facebook account; I realise we are still nonvirtual friends
Tuesday: Qi Long looks at me when I say hello to him several times
Wednesday: think about tomorrow
Thursday: fall over dramatically on the way to a lecture, graze knee
Friday: headache
Saturday: election called; I hope Julia wins!
Sunday: daughter returns from London in shorts
Monday: washing and ironing
Tuesday: Li Feng gives me two pieces of warmed up cake to eat
Wednesday: IKEA
Thursday: Pi Approximation Day: watch movie Pi and eat pies at the science exchange
Friday: very cold day.
Saturday: put a rubber band round mum's curtain rod, debate with her its merits as marker
Sunday: Masterchef full of preposterous drama; Adam wins
There, Pliny, I said. That's what happened. Is there anything you would like me to elaborate upon?
Pliny looked perplexed.
What's IKEA? he said.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
A Hastily Convened Meeting
Le Bon David and the VeloDrone are somewhat piqued.
Le Bon David: That old devil Freud has got us by the short and curlies!
The VeloDrone: Yes. It's clear he wants to take us over.
Le Bon David: Well I say, let him do his worst.
The VeloDrone: Very philosophical of you.
Le Bon David: Less work for us. And the readers might like it. He's bound to sexualize everything.
The VeloDrone: I'd like to see him sexualize everything!
Le Bon David: The Dali one, definitely. As to the story of the granddaughter, I rather hope he will. But I confess I am most intrigued with his story about Galileo's experiment. Did Galileo even have a bicycle?
The VeloDrone: He must have done.
Le Bon David: We shall have to wait and see. So, we're agreed then? Professor Freud can join the team?
The VeloDrone: Yes, with the greatest of pleasure. But we must try and retain some semblance of control. I'll tell him he must keep his articles brief.
Le Bon David: Alright. But I suggest you don't say 'brief' .
The VeloDrone: Short?
Le Bon David: No, don't say 'short'.
The VeloDrone: Under 300 words?
Le Bon David: Not 'under'.
The VeloDrone: This is going to be hard!
Le Bon David: ARRGH!
Le Bon David: That old devil Freud has got us by the short and curlies!
The VeloDrone: Yes. It's clear he wants to take us over.
Le Bon David: Well I say, let him do his worst.
The VeloDrone: Very philosophical of you.
Le Bon David: Less work for us. And the readers might like it. He's bound to sexualize everything.
The VeloDrone: I'd like to see him sexualize everything!
Le Bon David: The Dali one, definitely. As to the story of the granddaughter, I rather hope he will. But I confess I am most intrigued with his story about Galileo's experiment. Did Galileo even have a bicycle?
The VeloDrone: He must have done.
Le Bon David: We shall have to wait and see. So, we're agreed then? Professor Freud can join the team?
The VeloDrone: Yes, with the greatest of pleasure. But we must try and retain some semblance of control. I'll tell him he must keep his articles brief.
Le Bon David: Alright. But I suggest you don't say 'brief' .
The VeloDrone: Short?
Le Bon David: No, don't say 'short'.
The VeloDrone: Under 300 words?
Le Bon David: Not 'under'.
The VeloDrone: This is going to be hard!
Le Bon David: ARRGH!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Suspicio
You can admire and mistrust something at the same time. For example Pliny admires and mistrusts bees.
Today he was walking to the shops with Nostradamus along a path that was strewn with crunchy jacaranda flowers, which had attracted some bees. The first bee Pliny met flew off immediately to the right and into the road. The second bee did the same thing. Pliny thought that was interesting. He expected the third bee to do the same. But the third bee didn't really want to leave the flowers. It flew around in a circle humming, just in front of Pliny's approaching legs. Only at the very last minute did the bee veer off into the road. The fourth bee did what the third bee had done. Pliny was wearing shorts. He hoped he wouldn't meet any more bees.
Today he was walking to the shops with Nostradamus along a path that was strewn with crunchy jacaranda flowers, which had attracted some bees. The first bee Pliny met flew off immediately to the right and into the road. The second bee did the same thing. Pliny thought that was interesting. He expected the third bee to do the same. But the third bee didn't really want to leave the flowers. It flew around in a circle humming, just in front of Pliny's approaching legs. Only at the very last minute did the bee veer off into the road. The fourth bee did what the third bee had done. Pliny was wearing shorts. He hoped he wouldn't meet any more bees.
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