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Posted by Lady G on 3/20/2006, 6:52 pm, in reply to "And they all lived crappily ever after. After dinner, anyways." Lady (I believe he got into the country by showing his library card and batting his eyelash at the border guard on the U.S. side) G. --Previous Message--
204.50.33.110
Doug's in Canada. I guess you missed him when you were here. No wonder - it doesn't sound like you stayed very long or tried very hard. I saw him going into a bath-house in Calgary a while back and hanging about the fruit-loop a while before that. If I had to guess at where he is right now, he's probably at a cub scout meeting wearing a handkerchief and shorts trying to teach the lads his version of "Cum-by-ya" (he has a horrible singing voice so you might also try Karaoke bars everywhere).
: : Have you asked his brother Doug?
:
: Any the ways, welcome back!
:
: TOOO
:
:
: --Previous Message--
: Any of you blokes seen Dinsdale? I've
: been on the trail for ten years now,
: with precious little to show for it,
: apart from maybe syphilis and a tall
: stack of unpaid traffic tickets.
:
: But I'll submit for your kind spicely
: perusal an interim report on my
: progress thus far. All of us at Normco
: (r) are fully confident that we'll have
: Dinsdale located absolutely no later
: than June, 2076.
:
: THE SEARCH FOR DINSDALE
: The first ten years
:
: 1996 - Concentrating my search around
: the greater Luton area, I scoured all
: the places I thought it likely to find
: Dinsy - boys homes, rest stop
: bathrooms, drag revues, etc. Did nor
: find Dinsdale. Contracted several
: interesting diseases.
:
: 1997 - Acting on a tip given to me by a
: diminutive wombat named Charley, I
: chartered a junk to Malaysia. The
: one-eyed captain and I get into
: fisticuffs when I misunderstand the
: Malaysian phrase "Ma Suk Lot
: Kok"* to be an insult to Mrs.
: Norman. Am forced to blow up the junk,
: and spend the rest of the year
: swimming.
: *(actual meaning: “I found Malcolm
: Gladwell’s latest piece in the New
: Yorker highly provocative, if a bit
: over-wrought. How about you?”)
:
: 1998 - Visited Shanghai after hearing
: the Chinese were celebrating the
: "Year of the Hedgehog." Am
: thrice set upon by cleaver-clasping
: Chinamen hoping to cook up that rarest
: of delicacies, “General Tso’s
: Hedgehog.” Briefly consider blowing up
: China, but have neither the heart, nor
: the available ammunition, to finish the
: job properly. Blow up Korea instead.
: Frankly, they all look the same to me.
:
: 1999 - My return trip to Luton is
: delayed another year in a Orient, as a
: mysterious operative and a young
: Harrison Ford task me to venture deep
: into the jungle primeval to
: "terminate...with extreme
: prejudice" a mad Colonel gone
: native. Confronting my own demons as
: the journey progresses, I soon find
: myself trapped in an allegory for the
: conflict between civilization and human
: nature, and loathing metaphorical and
: allegorical diversions of all kind, am
: forced to blow up the boat. More
: swimming.
:
: 2000 – Returning to Luton via the
: States, I stop off in San Francisco to
: do a thorough search for Dinsdale in
: many of the interestingly-named bars in
: the Castro district. Hear a rumor from
: Lance and Bryce in the “party room” at
: Club Manhole that Dinsdale was spotted
: in Canada. Journey to Canada, though
: sheer boredom after two days there
: forces me to call off the search and
: decide “if Dinsdale is here, he can
: have it.”
:
: 2001 – Gin, mostly.
:
: 2002 – Hearing reports of men dressed
: as ladies, I travel to Rio in time for
: Carnival. I dance with a bare-chested
: Brazilian boy from the favela. He
: compliments me on my dancefloor
: prowess, telling me “You’re the bomb!”,
: and asks where I learned my moves. No
: sooner are the words “Oh, Samba’ed in
: Luton” out of my mouth than several CIA
: officers in black suits appear and
: whisk me away. Spend six months in
: Cuba being asked by highly persuasive
: men about who I know. Once a more
: thorough background check reveals that
: the only organization I’ve ever been a
: part of is a 1990-1997 stint in the
: Right Said Fred fan club, am released.
:
: 2003 – When an overly-vigorous
: masturbation session accidentally tears
: the space/time continuum, I take
: advantage of this rare rip in the
: fabric of the universe to travel to the
: Astral Plane of Lost Souls. Do nor
: find Dinsy, but find Elvis, Jim
: Morrison, Tupac, and the guy from the
: Manic Street Preachers, who explain
: that the Plane is really a hide-out for
: music stars who wanted to fake their
: own deaths, and that until I’d moved at
: least 100k units, I needed to “piss
: off, and get [my] poor, grubby ass off
: the imported leather couch.” More
: fisticuffs. Tupac? All talk. Punked
: like a b###h. Morrison,
: unsurprisingly, cries like a girl upon
: the first simple
: sledgehammer-to-the-gut. Elvis puts up
: a surprisingly good fight for a guy in
: a sequined jumpsuit, but not good
: enough to counter my flamethrower.
: Return to Earth. Finish up.
:
: 2004 – Climb a treacherous peak in the
: Hindu Kush to seek the advice of
:
: Arulanasanaranathanadanagranathanastanastan,
: the purported “all-seeing swami” (at
: least according to his website). Ask
: if he’s seen Dinsdale. Gives me a lot
: a crap about “seeing inside myself” and
: “the meaning of the journey is the
: journey itself,” so I blow him up. For
: the record, I don’t think he saw that
: coming.
:
: 2005 – Back in Luton once again, I
: reconsider the direction of my life,
: and decide to quit the search for
: Dinsdale and take back up my old life
: as a journeyman competitor on the
: professional canasta circuit. Find, to
: my dismay, that I no longer fit into my
: “canasta pants,” and am forced to call
: off my plans. Find Dinsdale’s Myspace
: page. Does not reveal his current
: location, but reveals membership in fan
: groups for most of the leading boy
: bands.
:
: 2006 - The search continues...and I
: promise you, my friends, that my
: burning passion to bring Dinsdale to
: justice - much like the burning
: sensation in my crotch - shall never
: waver, shall never abate, and shall
: never relent.
:
: Well, maybe just a little.
:
:
:
:
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