My eldest son Paul lives with his family in the Pyrenees, or near them. They own some land there and are doing up a ruin of a house to live in. To help finance the project they are trying to sell some of the land and another ruin. I just received this email from Paul.
We've just had a very uncomfortable few days with a couple of guests who'd come to look at the ruin and the land. Sarah ended up nearly chucking them out and said she'd rather work seven days a week for years than have them as neighbours. The woman was a bloody awful sanctimonious New Ager, absolutely no respect at all. I prefer "ordinary" people; fuck, I prefer people with really big tellies and who wash their cars on Sunday mornings!
Anyway, we've got some other people interested including a pretty sound French guy who'd make a good neighbour I think. We've set the "hippy filter" to maximum strength now - anyone named after a tree, a rock, a pagan festival or a heavenly body is out for a fucking start! Someone e-mailed us this morning saying that they loved the advert, but would wait a couple of months & if it was still unsold that might be the time! Fuck off! Her name was Saphire apparently. I should have put "fruitcakes need not apply" at the bottom of the ad!
How the hell did something so good as the original hippy ideal turn into such a nightmare. We've got kids round here called fucking Leaf and Tree - for fuck's sake. What next eh!
I'm Eighteen and I Like It
7 months ago
Hey man, sorry your kids have turned into breadheads. I guess you should have turned them on to dope at a younger age.
ReplyDeleteI imagine the state of their dad was what turned them off dope in the first place.
ReplyDeleteDope is the answer. I promise to show you and Sarah when you come back in 2009. Yeah... now where did I put that pipe?
ReplyDeleteIs this what you mean in English with the expression "Fish and guests stink after three days"? But it’s proved that the most annoying ones already stink after 1-2 days. Sorry to see that those happy-hippy days I never knew are gone.
ReplyDeleteNext? In the Internet era soon the most common kid’s names will be Pendrive, Microprocessor and Plotter. I’m preparing for the worst!
I thought all hippies were airy fairy until I discovered you and Vicus. I didn't realise there were strong alpha males, too.
ReplyDeleteI should think that your son would be thrilled to ride the neighbour's sacred ostrich through the flaming hoop on Equinox Day?
ReplyDeleteYour commentors are absolutely correct...Paul needs to cultivate some homegrown wacky tobaccee and chill out. Once he is puffin'some choice 'Pyree' in his pipe no doubt the universe will unfold as it should.
Dicus - I couldn't give a flying toss if you're Tom's mate, there are more possibilities in the world than hippy & breadhead, so fuck off!
ReplyDeleteAnd to everyone who prescribes more dope: if dope makes verbal diarrhea bearable then I'm glad I've given it up! If chilling out enough to put up with hypocritical fuckwits who claim to be oh so sound but really want to tell you how to live and how to raise your kids and how to change the world etc. etc. is desirable then I might as well just have a lobotomy.
Hippy ideal? Wasn't it just a huge front to get your ends away, and the rest is propoganda?
ReplyDeleteAll the above need not apply... except you krotopkin. You sound right up my brother's street.
Oh yeah, and Dad I won't be communicating any views directly to you from henceforth in case it ends up in your blog as a damning indictment of the world we live in. Bloody hippies, think they can do anything.
Apologies kropotkin for the dodgy spelling of your name.
ReplyDeleteThe last thing I need is to be on the receiving end of some of your rough justice... now where's my share portfolio.
My Word!
ReplyDeleteIt would appear that the sarcasm was lost on Pro'pot'kin. Let me assure you that we all Cheech'd hittin' the Chong decades ago.
Luckily the Acid Flashbacks still manage to keep the edge off.
Didn't Mr Protopopkin win the Olympic Ice Dance gold medal an incredible three times for Russia, alongside Mrs Protopopkin?
ReplyDeleteAnyway, too many negative vibes, man. I can't be doing with any hassle, yeah? Time to chill.
Yeah, make love, not war! hahahah
ReplyDeleteOh my oh my! Where is this post going?
ReplyDeleteWQhen is someone going to invent a way of writing that conveys the sentiment of the words - then we can avoid all this confusion about who is joking and who isn't. For now, it's probably best to assume everybody is joking, except me of course, as I have no sense of humour and do not actually understand the concept of the word 'joke', although I have been called it many times, usually by the Mrs, and usually preceded with the words, 'you're just a fucking'.
Hippieness always skips a generation, Tommy.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I think being a hippie became synonymous with shirking responsibility and being only about oneself.
And Tom, I think you have one of the healthiest senses of humor around.
I think generation-skipping is a rebellion thing. If your parents are hippies you have to go the other way on principle and then the pendulum swings back.
ReplyDeleteAlso, the word breadhead is one that is so seldom used these days that it sounds very amusing to me, a bit like something from the Perry Bible Fellowship.