Ra Wonderful day!
Wednesday 3:05 p.m.
After the meditation I've just had, I know that my life has not been entirely wasted. Yea, though I have walked around with my head stuck up my backside for most of it, and, yea, I have been a bad boy time without number, today ra bliss was so fantastically extraordinary that I must have done something right! Ra bliss has jumped the gate, raced across the paddock, and disappeared to frolick among the deities in the middle distance. So let's sing the praises of ra bliss! Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
Heard about two people, both far younger than moi, succumbing to the black spot today, Jack. And it was a great shame and one of the endings not very nice at all. But what is worse, Jack, is that they were flatheided at the beginning, flatheided in the middle and flatheided right through the gruesomeness at the departure gate. We're not going to be like that, are we now, Jack? Well, not moi anyway, Jack. But the too dumb to meditate, flatheids like you, Jack, are just never going to get ra bliss!
What a beautiful day it is outside! You can keep your rat towns in the Mediterrannean today alright. With the crystal clear and the coldness, it is a perfect day today in chilly Jockoland! But it will not be chilly for me since I sit here writing in the full Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle, minus the bin liner. This is the day to take to the roads and do the six miler. It's probably been a year since I did that run.
I'm going out and I may be some time. If I fall down dead in Ravelston Dykes, I don't want anyone to think there was anything sad about my life. If I die today, my life will have come to an end after a period of great wonderment. At my funeral, I would like all the flatheids to be handed revolvers and invited to blow their brains out on the spot. Because they do not know anything about being a human being, or the glories to be had and enjoyed in this life. Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
7:00 p.m.
Speaking to the person who does all the work at my job today, I thought maybe the two sweatshirts, tee-shirt, and two layers of wool might be enough to run in, without the bin liner. We don't want to seem odd, now do we, Jack? Anyway, I weighed in before the run at 12 stone four and finished it bang on twelve stone. Four pounds of sweat is, I think, about three plus pints.
Most enjoyable run. Just under fifty minutes for a fat boy! The area around about the junction of Craigcrook Road and Ravelston Dykes Road has a wonderful atmosphere about it sometimes. It really has. I have no idea why. The fairies must dance there in the moonlight.
10:25 p.m.
The living room was empty till quite recently. So I've been doing a lot of juju this evening. In front of me on the carpet lay two A4 diary notebooks with the Kalachakra Mandala stickers on them. Further on, there was a big calendar photie of the Karmapa. It's the real Karmapa. Some of the photies of him as a kid are photies of a very striking kid. Then I had one of him as teenager and you could just tell. Some cats got it, an' some cats aint!
Do you ever feel lonely being the only member of the Amazing Bloggy Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid, Hotboy? No, Jack. I'd like to get a lot lonelier for a bit. I think it's time to get the rowing boat out and head for the Unheard of Islands!
After the meditation I've just had, I know that my life has not been entirely wasted. Yea, though I have walked around with my head stuck up my backside for most of it, and, yea, I have been a bad boy time without number, today ra bliss was so fantastically extraordinary that I must have done something right! Ra bliss has jumped the gate, raced across the paddock, and disappeared to frolick among the deities in the middle distance. So let's sing the praises of ra bliss! Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
Heard about two people, both far younger than moi, succumbing to the black spot today, Jack. And it was a great shame and one of the endings not very nice at all. But what is worse, Jack, is that they were flatheided at the beginning, flatheided in the middle and flatheided right through the gruesomeness at the departure gate. We're not going to be like that, are we now, Jack? Well, not moi anyway, Jack. But the too dumb to meditate, flatheids like you, Jack, are just never going to get ra bliss!
What a beautiful day it is outside! You can keep your rat towns in the Mediterrannean today alright. With the crystal clear and the coldness, it is a perfect day today in chilly Jockoland! But it will not be chilly for me since I sit here writing in the full Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle, minus the bin liner. This is the day to take to the roads and do the six miler. It's probably been a year since I did that run.
I'm going out and I may be some time. If I fall down dead in Ravelston Dykes, I don't want anyone to think there was anything sad about my life. If I die today, my life will have come to an end after a period of great wonderment. At my funeral, I would like all the flatheids to be handed revolvers and invited to blow their brains out on the spot. Because they do not know anything about being a human being, or the glories to be had and enjoyed in this life. Oh, ra bliss, ra bliss, ra bliss!
7:00 p.m.
Speaking to the person who does all the work at my job today, I thought maybe the two sweatshirts, tee-shirt, and two layers of wool might be enough to run in, without the bin liner. We don't want to seem odd, now do we, Jack? Anyway, I weighed in before the run at 12 stone four and finished it bang on twelve stone. Four pounds of sweat is, I think, about three plus pints.
Most enjoyable run. Just under fifty minutes for a fat boy! The area around about the junction of Craigcrook Road and Ravelston Dykes Road has a wonderful atmosphere about it sometimes. It really has. I have no idea why. The fairies must dance there in the moonlight.
10:25 p.m.
The living room was empty till quite recently. So I've been doing a lot of juju this evening. In front of me on the carpet lay two A4 diary notebooks with the Kalachakra Mandala stickers on them. Further on, there was a big calendar photie of the Karmapa. It's the real Karmapa. Some of the photies of him as a kid are photies of a very striking kid. Then I had one of him as teenager and you could just tell. Some cats got it, an' some cats aint!
Do you ever feel lonely being the only member of the Amazing Bloggy Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid, Hotboy? No, Jack. I'd like to get a lot lonelier for a bit. I think it's time to get the rowing boat out and head for the Unheard of Islands!
posted by Hotboy at 3:04 PM
6 Comments:
Sounds like the knee is healed. Do you wind down at the end rather than just stopping dead?
I couldn't do that, I feel sick if I just stop dead even after a 10-minute run. Everybody's different.
hotboy - "the wise man will meet the King by the lily pond" - do you need me to interpret that for you as well? This is beyond the hut management job description.
Adolf! Zeig! Is the last comment the first instance here of a cross-bloggy reference in obscurantis? No help at all to the casual visitor that! Hotboy
What does the lily pond have to do with the bus? Either you're blogging blitzed again, like the fragrant keda, or that's another of your koans. I'll get back to you if I decipher it.
I see it now - if I ran after a bus for 10 minutes, I'd be nearly there. No need to get on, I could saunter the last few hundred yards to the lily pond, and wind down. Bus fare saved, and I'd be a wise man!
It all makes sense.
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