the goblin's place Forum goblin's dear all diary

("...my homebase forum is unlikely to stay up for long so I am now reposting my posts here to store them now, but nowhere is safe, that the fun about forumland, one just has to post and repost against the inevitable chop...")

from the goblin's "dear all diary" 16th November 1997

Dear all,
The lump, curled upon itself and caught cradled in the crutch of an armchair is my son who in his sleep now adequately makes do for a fireside cat though he doesn't go to sleep, sleep come to him, strikes like a violent storm and then... silence. He will wake soon and after initial rumbles grumbles and whines engrossed in his own adventure this typhoon terror of toonsville will trampeed across the sittingroom much to the anticipation of the hatter who, having filled the wastepaper basket with failed attempts at this letter, is about to delve in a little bit of child exploitation to empty it: "...dormouse, take, empty, return, got it..." looking at the bin the dormouse replies "...wow, I must have the only daddy in the world that writes so much rubbish..."

yours sin.,flea

from his dear all diary 26th August 1996


Dear all,
Hi, following our intrepid hero's attempts to get his son to his first day at school this afternoon, we learn that deceit and sheer brute force have yet to find their more humane substitutes in the world of flea as man-housewife, his elder sister, who seems a convincing Caliban to his more mercurial Aerial, also went to school too though it seems with the sole intent of passing anything placed in one ear directly out the other, something probably to do with the teacher's not dressing up as the Good Fairy.
sin.,flea

from his dear all diary, 18th November 1996

Dear all,
Well, was it Marie Antoinette or George Bush senior who said "let them eat family values", no but nothing stands out more stark than a government that takes a high moral tone while cutting its cloth to suit some whim of cutthroat capitalism; in my opinion, those who wish us to follow "family values" should know that it's a family valued right back to base capitalism. We, the struggling families, the single parents, the pensioners, and the unemployed, in fact anyone who falls foul of this system, would feel much better if they turned their own moralization upon themselves for a change,
Your directly,
A Fleamailman

find pic

from the goblin's dear all diary 25th November 1996

Dear all,
Rain beyond reason, mind clutches straws and sinks under a reality of this "rain by day, snow by night" where the glum city of Geneva hugs its shoreline and sleeps between a gray sky and an even grayer expanse of windswept wet water, who knows, perhaps it too dreams of faraway Summer I wonder, anyway someone, in the middle of this climatic besiegement and the eventual capitulation to an all too white Christmas thought it would be a jolly good idea if we all celebrated Thanksgiving to coincide with the French season of industrial unrest, some of Oliver Cromwell's puritans perhaps, those English boat people.
Sinfully.,
flea

from the goblin's dear all diary, 18th., April 1998

Dear all,
Hatter's hopes of a tidy tranquil coffee are tossed aside when Alice and the doormouse turn up to grab whatever's is going even if her doctor's report(attention; on entering the Swiss German medical zone please avoid jokes on pain of having to explain them) mentioned her being 7kilos overweight, regardless, she scours the table for the non-existant sugarcube, the doormouse on the other hand will scurry to the hare in the kitchen for the milkjug which he'll bring, minus contents of course save for white marks on his lips, to the unperturbed hatter who somehow knowingly has braved the snow on the balcony for an unopened carton, hare then bounces into the room with the coffeepot only to spring to her ever awaiting telephone, doormouse will sleep and Alice is always lost, somehow after a few resuscitating sips the hatter will close the door and remember himself "...ah, in my home it's always teatime..." thinks the hatter over his cup

As written.,
flea

from the goblin's dear all diary 31st October 1996

Dear all,
How to my four year old son in one lesson: "...either, whine for what you want, sulk upon refusal, get on with life, or sleep..." he would say if he could notice himself, these then are what I call the four states of the Doormouse, Alice his older sister is easygoing to the point of having perfected "the art of totally ridding the mind of unwanted clutter" much to the annoyance of her school teachers, somehow the Autumn leaves left their mark on her though, seems she likes colors, shades and feelings far more than mere facts.

sin.,flea

find pic

from the goblin's dear all diary, 1st January 1999

Dear All,
On the subject of McDonald's and the idea of rubbish reduction one could always remind them that goats will eat paper, plastic and all the other leftovers they produce, simple, the goats would eat everything and McDonald's could then claim that this is all in accordance with their new "ecologically friendly attitude to the environment", later, in the interest of streamlining operations while amply generating publicity through innovation, the "goat burger" could be added to the menu, - now of course the other animal capable of such a diet is the polar bear but that might be slightly more problematic in my view.

sin.,flea

from the goblin's dear all diary 11th April 1998

Dear all,
In the hopeful case that something happens and Geneva disappears under the next meteorite, nuclear mishap, etc., I suspect that having evolved from a creature that wisely came out of the water millions of years ago, it is now my fate to be a creature that goes back into the water(taking them swimming), must I resemble a wet cold bored waterlogged oven-ready chicken in some stoic sufferance and near suspended animation, well at least for the that time it takes Alice to eventually see that the Dormouse and Hatter(dad) are shivering to bits, no doubt at that moment she just say: “...you know daddy, once you stop struggling swimming can be quite pleasurable...”, two wet zombies reply in unison “...no brains this one...”

sin.,flea

from the goblin dear all dairy 15th April 1998

Dear all,
“Soap springs forth eternal” though I only watch television as a last resort(frequently) otherwise my two experts waste my time more ridiculously and to far better effect, for example, was I this morning really testing the bonds of boredom in the deep end of the pool composing poems like “...twinkle twinkle Kennith Starr, how goes politics at the bar, up above the crowds so high, like that Democrat you try to fry...”, etc., but here now, as I to scribble into space in some Mac like cafe to give them an impression of an involved imaginative father, actually I am but I won't say that line to them “...kids, your childhood is the best time of your life...” as it means that the best is passing, no, I'll just think something else without wasting any pointless words on them, something like “...kids, your childhood is the best time in my life...”

sin.,flea

 form the goblin's dear all diary, 31st January 1998

Dear all,
And they're off as we join the “UN to Jardin Botanique” lunchtime jostle with the American contingent up front followed by the British, the French and the Chinese ahead of the rest of the pack, oh, and there has been a fall at the CICR gate, this could be serious, are the Japanese calling for a doctor, no, it's an interpretor whose making an announcement “...I shall of this moment accept full responsibility for my actions and therefore resign for the next thirty seconds thank you...”, so it's the Brits, the French, the Yanks, wait, the French are pulling across the street, precious seconds lost here but they are refusing to join the English-speakers for lunch, may we have an update please, ah Geneva's chief de protocol is at hand, negotiations have ensued, back as soon as we have any further developments, so it's the Chinese, the Americans, the British and I don't believe it the Brits and turning right, left, stopped , what are they doing , could we have a statement please “...I just wish to state here that the general public has absolutely no need to be alarmed by this apparent occurrence for, regardless of any media coverage, there has never been a case in all the annals of veterinarian history of even one cow contracting MCD better known as Mad Civilservant Disease, thank you...”, ah, we just heard that the French have returned to the race, the chief du protocol is at hand to say something I believe “...well, this was a tough one but I think we have cracked it, the French have agreed to speak English, off camera of course, under the condition that Anglophones make an extraordinary effort and learn how to use a knife and fork, thank you...” well that is OK then, so it's the Chinese but they are not letting the Americans pass, is this a fault then, yes they're talking amongst themselves, a fault being given, it's definite the Chinese are being called to hand for human rights abuse again, it's a yellow card for them, oh they don't like that one of them is coming this way “...who you calling yellow cad you bucket of capitalist imperialism, this internal problem like Taiwan part of China, Ireland part of UK, UK part of Roman empire, and whole world part of Babylon say the book so everywhere belongs to Saddam Hussein in superior Chinese logic...” just ignore him folks back to the race please, so it's neck and neck as the pass the final garden gate and enter the trample the flowers stretch, and, and, and America has it, yes the Yanks once more take the best seats, our congratulations may we know your secret please, “...no secret son but when you're the superpower, the world's policeman, the torch of knowledge and the beacon of humanity all rolled up into one, I guess it's kinda easy, but strictly off record now, could you lend 20 francs again, come on buddy, please...”, oh and here comes the secretary general of the United Nations, could we have a word please “...the seeds of our organization's will to stamp out injustice wherever we see it are sown here, thank you...” oh, so your into gardening today, this has been Augustus Fleamailman for his sanity, Goonsville.

from his dear all diary, 5th September 1996

Dear all,
Oddly, the two responsibilities of "bringing up" and "bringing in" remind me as a parent of the offerings of Cain and Abel, how much more the offering of "bringing in"(the money) burns with a brighter flame, so I am grateful that we live in an age where the clear cut roles of "father brings in" while "mother brings up" have blurred to the point where each parent does both, at least now I can understand the little thankless flame of "bringing up" is far warmer in its unappreciated way.

sin.,flea


xxxx

from the goblin's dear all diary, 21st September 1996

Dear all,
On opening the bedroom the dormouse will scurry through the dark back to his bed where, waiting for me to finish with the bath and upon first dark, he will resume his big career in stealth; however, his father, being fed up with gathering the discarded sweetwrappers, has decided to remove the fudges from the fridge and place them in the oven thus not only guaranteeing the end of his son's aims but also of any hopes I had of having a good night's sleep too.

sin.,flea

 from the goblin's dear all diary, 3rd December 1996

Dear all,
My children, being charming loveable rogues, have me feeling like "some big bird whose beak has been pecked beyond belief to divulge each and every morsel of time to its incessant offspring", oh and, what with all this newfound domestic emancipation, also wondering if they have come to believe that we're in fact an odd couple of hermaphrodites, anyway I, in this so called mum's world, have grown a begrudged respect for how mum manages when mum is me, that and a sometimes too close closeness to my children I suppose summed up in the words: "I go home to get away form work, and go to work to get away from home.

sin.,flea

from the goblin's dear all diary, 29th January 1997

Dear all,
My wife hasn't even got on the plane yet, but there seems to be a silent chorus going on just a bit beyond earshot going: "...but they'll drown..." and admittedly I haven't always given the impression of even the remotest aptitude towards housework, let alone looking after these children on my tod, but it's only two weeks, alright, that's two whole weeks then, and as long as I get them to follow my non-existent rules with bribes of happymeals and cigarettes, I can just slip into the recesses of my own bed-covers albeit occasionally having to stick out my nose to check for smoke. Anyway, and besides, and etcetera too, once one's home becomes untidy, how untidy is purely academic is it not. With situation firmly under control somewhere, or not then, I remain.,

Yours sinfully,
A fleamailman

from the goblin's dear all diary, 4th february 1998

Dear all,
In a perfect cosmos, it's nice to think that God made us for his own amusement though I am not so sure I share his sense of humor when, having paid my bills and in need of escape, I turn on the television only to have Bill Clinton or Bill Gates jump me, couldn't the television carry a warning then: "attention: continued living can seriously damage one's sanity", just too many bills then.

Yours sinfully
A Fleamailman

from the goblin's dear all diary, 7th., January 1998

Dear all,
So I read that America now sends more people to prison than it does university, crime is at an all time high while school attendance plummets and theirs costs rise, therefore with this background surely it would be a better idea would be to offer people courses, followed by an entrance exam, to the prison of their choice, a vocation in prison life then; simply, gone would be that feeling that schools are out of touch, gone too would be any need to commit the crime with a costly trail, etc., but above all gone would be those endless hours of moronic “O J Simpson like” television coverage.

yours again.,
A. fleamailman

from the goblin's dear all diary, 14th December 1996

Dear all,
Walking a little dragon to school, his elder sister is dressed too as some sort of good something or other, but inconclusive elaboration runs in the family and when the school fancy dress party is this immediate , does it matter. Their father thinks of himself as “cool cat with a hat” whereas most would conclude his “roped in parent” guise is far more convincing considering the vaguely splattering sky above and his precisely frozen feet below. Too wet to walk the parents, upon bleating their greetings, huddle into the recesses of the Gothic playground while the school seems to spew up and flood of colorful kiddies who , in this age of European integration sing “the Escalade” which more or less translate into “sod those Savoyards across the border”, no camera but he feels his pen has caught it.
sin.,flea

25th May 1997

Dear all,
Not again!, a few moments to yourself, a quiet coffee with a view and the next thing you know you're talking with a muse who's giving you some hard luck story(about how books that sleep on shelves show just how insidious this tyranny of television has become), she should talk, weren't muses really sirens that call writers to dash themselves on desks, next she'll complain about those nerds on the natternet with the usual "where to now the written word" but I explain "...if you're one of maybe fifteen members of the writer's club outnumbered by 170.000 predominantly pendumb Genevans the question isn't fame and fortune, it's more like "does one go down writing or simply fall on ones pen"...", and with that she smiled saying "...sounds like great odds, what about you then..." she took a sip from from my coffee and continued "...the pact goes, honesty, a shared life, and a thick skin...", "...and what's in it for me..." I ask reaching for my pen, "...a journey to self..." she replies handing me some paper as I write "Dear all" again.

sin.,flea

[img]http://i102.photobucket.com/albums/m104/mjrydsfast/AMusing.jpg[/img]

 from the goblin's dear all diary, 11th November 1996

Dear all,
The Lord giveth and the dentist extracts, such is the legacy of a lunacy where one has to pay for fillings but where one can just let ones teeth rot until is becomes so painful that the state in its benevolence agrees to pay for the extraction; thus, again and again, one finds me opting for the final solution and concluding that it takes real guts to be this cowardly; however, as a concession to my vanity, I am quite happy to go the the hygienist so that I can smile with a pristine facade regardless of whether I can actually chew, - besides, my false modesty in declining food looks very becoming doesn't it.

Yours sinfully,
a fleamailman

from the goblin's dear all diary,  28th November 1996

Dear all,
Cold is king and reigns supreme in Geneva where it ushers most people in their homes  and the homeless into the station where they look on as a man collects signatures for the protection of dolphins in which a country which has no sea and no dolphins, just dole-queues. Into this then the homeless face the stark choice of putting up with their day's week's month's year's and final lifetime's worth as life's losers "alone", or joining the drunks in a stupefied social-life much to the dismay of the impression conscious shopkeepers who move them constantly around the mall, this choice is simplified when that homeless person just asks himself if he has the guts to constantly face his lot or a good liver, well anyway, for me at least it forms an ironic background to “Thanksgiving” tonight.
sin.,flea