The Internet is a Playground Page 24
My Ideal Partner
I would like to try one with hair this time. It doesn’t matter if they don’t have all their teeth, I don’t either—LOL. My last boyfriend, Darren, had a wicked sound system in his Commodore, which was awesome, so that would be good. My Datsun has an Audio 4 system that kicks. It has an input plug so that you can play your songs on your iPod through it, which is great. I don’t own an iPod but if I had a friend with an iPod and they wanted me to drive them somewhere, I would be like, “Hey, girlfriend, let’s play your music on your iPod through my stereo. Do you have a N33 adapter cable?” and they would have one, and we would listen to Keith Urban on the way to Target.
My Ideal Date
Probably something normal, like Friday night line dancing at the local pub after a nice meal—either McDonald’s or Barnacles Bills. I don’t mind; I enjoy both red meat and seafood.
Location
I live really close to the train stop, which means I can catch the train to the bus stop that takes me to the tram that takes me to a suburb near the city. Which is really handy because, if I knew someone else who lived close to the city, we would always be meeting in the city to shop for clothes, drink coffee, and talk about Cold Chisel. I have a mobile phone tower in my backyard.
Best Holiday
I’m saving up to go to Bali. Bali is a beautiful and spiritual place, and accommodation is very cheap because a lot of villagers drowned to death. Once when I was six, my legal guardians took me to the beach, and while I was wading, the crab-covered corpse of a cruise ship entertainer named Julian washed up on the beach. I hope one of the dead villagers doesn’t wash up on the beach while I am relaxing in Bali. Thousands were washed out, but I would think that they would have been eaten by crabs and sharks by now, which is quite beautiful and spiritual when you think about it. Darren and I used to go crabbing.
Favorite Music
Cold Chisel. I love every album and every song ever released by the Chisels. The Chiz! The depth and, dare I say it, the poetry in Jimmy’s musical storytelling leaves me breathless. If Jimmy Barnes knew how much I truly understood what he was telling me, he would know that he has found his soul mate, and he would get on his Harley Davidson motorcycle and come to my place, and we would be lovers. Sometimes when Jimmy is singing, it is like he is talking only to me. My favorite is the track that goes “Kay San, you don’t have to put on the red light.” If we were on a beach together we would hold hands and spin in circles and laugh like children. If I couldn’t marry Jimmy, I would marry Keith Urban and raise wheat on his farm together. Sometimes he would play his guitar, and I would sing while I whittled wood.
Favorite Movies
The greatest movie ever made in all time is Pretty Woman. Many people do not get the symbolism in the movie because Julia Roberts did not play her role very well. Sometimes I practice conversations in the mirror, and I was in a play once so I would have been much better than her, and the relationship between me and Richard Gere would have been more honest and believable to the viewer. The second-best movie ever made is Top Gun. If I had to pick a third-best movie ever made, I would have to call it a tie between The Blues Brothers and Dirty Dancing.
Favorite Books
I don’t read books, but I did once listen to a book on tape called Flowers in the Attic, by Virginia Andrews. It was great and reminded me a lot of my own life. Listening to a book on tape is like watching television with the brightness turned down and everyone talking in the same voice but is the whole book in 180 minutes, which saves a lot of time. Watching television is heaps better. I own a Teac television because they are the best. My ex-boyfriend Darren bought it for me from Cash Converters. It was ninety dollars, but he talked them down to seventy-five and got two VHS videos with it—Splash and Cannonball Run.
Favorite Television Shows
My favorite show ever was The Young Ones on channel 2, and I have styled my hair based on the character Neil. Other shows I love are Australian Idol and Rove. Rove is so funny. I like it when he does other people’s voices. He was a crab in the movie Finding Nemo, did you know? It was so sad how his girlfriend died. I once had a boyfriend who I thought died, but it turned out he had moved to another suburb with his new girlfriend and thought it would be easier if I was told he had been in a forest fire. Friends is also a great show; everyone on there is just like the friends I would have.
My Poetry
“My Gaping Soul” By Joanne
The sadness and the joy are one. The sadness is a cold, frightened mouse. The joy, a song of life. Like the Bon Jovi song where he is at the Grand Canyon.
“Always Being There” By Joanne
When my boyfriend Darren was working, I would ring him every hour to tell him I loved him. I would visit him at his office bi-hourly. True love is always being there. Why did he have to rescue those children from that forest fire?
“My Chair” By Joanne
My chair is near the window. Every day I sit in it. I have Venetian blinds, so I can see out but people can’t see in. If I turn the lights out, I can sit there the whole night and nobody knows I am watching.
“Ruffles and Others” By Joanne
I have a cat named Ruffles. I have more cats, but they are referred to as “others,” as I cannot think of eighteen names.
“Choices” By Joanne
The photos on the neon-backed menu boards at McDonald’s never look like the actual product. Except the apple pie. I will have one of those.
Sponsor a poor black boy
He stinks and ate a rat with maggots today.
How would you like it?
Lesley the adventurous, outdoors type
Having received a love letter from Lesley in regard to the page about the poor black boy, I had a quick glance through his personal website. The website, written by Lesley, about Lesley, and featuring several photos of Lesley, describes Lesley as “. . . the adventurous outdoors type with a love of watersports and everything outdoors.” Wasps are outdoors Lesley, do you love wasps? Fuse boxes? Open cut mining? Pedestrian crossings?
Things that people have e-mailed me that are outdoors and therefore Lesley loves:
Traffic lights, Prickles, Litter, A bus, My sister Amanda, Flies, Cigarette butts, Land mines, Homeless people, Sticks, Grandma, Dark alleyways, Bins, Opera in the park, Feral cats, Playgrounds, Dust, Used condoms, Fat people at hot dog stands, Blowfish, Construction workers, Snipers, Shade, Airborne viruses, Mandy Says toilets, A box, Shoes because of the carpet, Wading pools, Children on a field trip, AstroTurf, Lesley, Indians on public transport, Holes in fences, Tether ball, Starving third-world children, My poodle Benny, Quicksand, Lawn sausages, For Sale signs, Boy Scouts, Peeping Toms, Lawn furniture, Flagpoles, Television antenna’s, Owl pellets, Street walkers, Forest fires, Techno Viking, Public toilets, Yellow snow, Speed bumps, Lost kittens, Free candy vans, Cement, Garden gnomes . . .
From: Les Copeland
Date: Thursday 15 Jan 2009 4:19 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Poor black boy
What kind of a complete fucking moron makes fun of starving children? What a pathetic attempt at humor. I have spent time in third world countries and seen children starving with my own eyes and I think you seriously need to grow the fuck up.
Les
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 15 Jan 2009 6:41 p.m.
To: Les Copeland
Subject: Re: Poor black boy
Dear Lesley,
Thank you for your kind e-mail. I am glad you enjoyed the website. In answer to your question, no I cannot send you a photo of myself without a shirt on. I have, however, attached this photo of a mouse riding on a toad’s back. It is a visual metaphor for how you must have felt writing that last e-mail: magnanimous, the world on your shoulders, and moist.
Regards, David
From: Les Copeland
Date: Friday 16 Jan 2009 10:28 a.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Poor black
boy
Are you fucking retarted? Where did I ask for a photo of you? I wrote to you about the poor black boy page. As If I would want a photo of someone who thinks starving children are funny. You need a punch in the head. And my name isnt Lesley moron. Tell me where you live and we will see how fucking funny you are.
Les
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 16 Jan 2009 11:02 a.m.
To: Les Copeland
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
Dear Lesbian,
Thank you for your request, but I regret that I am unable to provide you with an address, as I am homeless. Please send money and/or Legos. I have been collecting Lego blocks for nearly four years now, since I intend to build my own home. I currently have exactly 1,692,008 blocks of various sizes and need only another 4,836,029 to complete my plans of constructing a four-bedroom home with sunken lounge and indoor pool. Prior plans to build a home from seawater were abandoned due to physics. The advantages of using Lego blocks over traditional materials, in regard to durability and gaiety, are without question. The only issue is finding a block of land with a flat, green plastic base. Gaining council approval shouldn’t prove to be an obstacle, as my local member of parliament, Kate Ellis, is known for her stance on environmentally responsible architecture and is a close friend. Although we are yet to meet, I send her several e-mails each day and often stand outside her house. As her front door is more than ten meters from the sidewalk, this does not violate my court order. I have attached a photo of Kate Ellis as a sexy space girl in case you do not know who she is.
Regards, David
From: Les Copeland
Date: Saturday 17 Jan 2009 2:09 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
I have no idea who the fuck that is and it wouldnt suprise me if you were homeless loser. spending your time writing shit like that instead of getting a real job like a grown up what are you 15? Did your mummy buy you the computer you are using? Why dont you turn off your computer and go outdoors there is a whole world out there. and Les is short for Lester moron. I seriously want to punch you in the fucking face.
From: David Thorne
Date: Saturday 17 Jan 2009 2:37 p.m.
To: Les Copeland
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
Dear moLester,
I appreciate the suggestion but dislike the outdoors; it has bees and sharp sticks in it. Once, when I went camping with my sister, she became angry at a comment I made regarding her girth and drove off leaving me stranded two hundred and thirty kilometers from the nearest McDonald’s. By the third day I tried eating grass, and chased a small lizard on the fourth. If you and I had known each other then, you could have arranged an emergency UNICEF food-parcel drop. As it was, I survived only by making love to keep warm and building a vehicle out of my clothing, which enabled me to reach the nearest town, where I danced for food.
You and I should go camping together sometime, as you seem like an adventurous, outdoors kind of guy with a love of water sports and everything outdoors. I read somewhere about a father and son who went camping and during the night a tree branch fell on their tent, killing the child, so I always sleep the farthest distance possible from my son when we are camping together. Safety first. You would be a handy person to have along in case we became lost, because we could use your Village People mustache as kindling to create a signal fire and your naturally reflective surface to alert search planes.
In regard to getting a real job, my current position as assistant to the managing assistant in charge of envelopes fills much of my spare time, and I have been promised a promotion to assistant to the assistant manager in charge of assistants within ten years. The corporate stepladder has my name on every rung. Also, I understand your need to assert yourself physically—I too can experience true intimacy only through pain. As I have ventured onto your website and seen your photo, my only requirement would be that we keep the lights off because imagination has its limits. I have had worse, of course, my last girlfriend was the poster girl for “Love is blind,” and my current partner is overseas at the moment, so the only intimacy in my life involves a stick of salami and the neighbor’s dog when Glenda and Frank go out Tuesday nights.
Once when they arrived home early due to an argument between them regarding Frank’s Internet usage, I hid in their wardrobe for four days. As I could see Frank using his computer from my hiding position,
I can vouch for his denials to Glenda’s accusations that he was “looking at girls on the Internet.” He was looking at photos of her. No, not really. It was men.
To prime myself for your proximity, I have printed your photo out and have it sitting on the couch next to me while we watch a DVD together. Occasionally, I throw an M&M at you and pretend you giggle and tell me to stop it. We are watching Nanny McPhee, which always makes me cry. The bit at the end where her wedding dress materializes out of snow is simply beautiful, but my favorite scene is where the robots turn on their human masters.
Regards, David
From: Les Copeland
Date: Saturday 17 Jan 2009 6:41 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
You are a complete idiot. Dont e-mail me again.
From: David Thorne
Date: Saturday 17 Jan 2009 6:57 p.m.
To: Les Copeland
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
OK.
From: Les Copeland
Date: Saturday 17 Jan 2009 7:02 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poor black boy
Fuck off
About the author of 27b/6
David Thorne works in the design and branding industry as design director for a small Adelaide design agency because he is too lazy and easily distracted to do a real job. Among his multitude of qualities, which include reciting prime numbers backward from 909,526, reading to blind children, and training guide dogs, embellishment may be at the top.
David currently lives with his partner (who recently made the top 100 on So You Think You Can Dance) in the small country village of Adelaide, which is commonly referred to as the murder capital of Australia. This title is given to Adelaide not due to the volume of murders, but due to the clever antics of Adelaide’s finest serial killers. Ironically, Adelaide is the only Australian capital city not founded by convicts. He was born in Geraldton, Western Australia, to Welsh immigrant parents and has one sibling, an older sister, who once attempted to set his bedroom alight with him locked inside. Police did not press charges.
He has worked as a horse-riding instructor, bartender, Macintosh design system consultant, graphic designer, copy writer, branding consultant, and design director. Describing working in the design industry as “the most uncreative experience of my life,” he began writing articles for his website as a distraction from spending each day making the type-size larger on clients’ business cards, assuring his boss that his hair looks nice, and making rubbish look appealing so that people will be tricked into buying it.
David reads too much, generally exceeds others’ tolerances, and likes Linkin Park. He stays up too late, drinks too much coffee, smokes too much, hates getting up in the morning, and has offspring who think David doesn’t know what he has been up to when he deletes his Internet history.