Monday, November 13, 2006

The Horse's Mouth

Press L for Loser.

Put up a beautiful blog, attempted to copy and paste from Outlook Express, pressed V instead of C--and lost the whole note in cyberspace.
When will this old Luddite ever learn Word, so he doesn' lose?

As well. It was time for an intermission in THE FIRE IN BRADFORD, the play I'm putting up.

But what the hell had I blogged about? I do recall it was in fact about an intermission. Is there Memory left in my head?

I have in fact been hit so often over the head in bar fights and auto accidents that I am surprised these days to remember anything at all, but lets see if we can remember what in tarnation we had put up.

Sure do feel like "Prince Violent", a parody of Prince Valiant in old MAD Magazine, where faced with danger, Prince Violent picks up bow, drops bow, picks up quiver, drops quiver, drops chainmail pants!

Ah, well, let's see now.

The blog was about a blocked playwright. I had made the playwright into a character. I had put him in a story:

"Nobody knows why, but instances of insanity were upon the country. In an Orthodox church preists were given
to destroying communion wafers, Rabbis taking up Islam, and parliaments of Canada would set special days to pray for rain.

"A blocked playwright entered his psychiatrist's office singing an old Fifties Doublemint jingle, "Double your pleasure, doubble your fun with Doublemint, Doublemint, Doublemint Gum"

He also said he sucked the sweat off horses.

"Himmel!" gasped the startled Viennese psychiatrist. "You suck the sweat of horses? You are the schwans-zuger?"

The playwright, who had a couple of languages, yelled, "Did you just call me a co.....ucker?"

"Nein, nein,nicht, never,"soothed the psychatrist. "How long have you been sucking the sweat off horses?"

"It's more of a metaphor, really," the young playwright explained."It's just a mode I got into, a kind of Tyrette's syndrome.
I'm stuck at writing my play and I end up reciting entire passages from Equus and other well known plays. Same thing when I'm on the keyboard.

Psychiatrist (under his breath): That's because you haven't got a creative bone in your body, aschloch.

Patient: What was that?

Psychatrist: Nichtwar. So how long have you been unconsciously plagiarizing?

"Since I wrote in an intermission to my work in progress.

"Ah, you are such a dumkopf," said the psychiatrist.

"That's why I'm here, " sighed the young playwright.

Psychiatrist (giggling a bit) What you need is a good horse tranquillizer, hey.

"Does it matter if they're tranquillized?"

Psychiatrist: Is there a horse in your head? Horse's heads. You plagiarising the Godfather now?

Patient: You sure you didn't get that diploma from a Kellog's box?

Psychiatrist: You're the guy who's reciting "Double your pleasure, double your fun."

Patient: Look, doctor, I am a blocked playwright. A blocked artist. You guys should take a course in creative writing.

Psychiarist: I have. Ever since we found out what we did to Hemingway.

Patient: And?

"Keep away from shotguns."

There is a long pause. The psychiatrist is writing something. He gives the note to the young playwright.

Patient: What''s this.

Psychiatrist: It's a book title.

Patient: But it's one of my own books!

Psychiatrist: Precisely.

Patient: So?

Psychiatrist: From your previous visits, it became plain to me that you were using one of your own novels as a template for your play. You weren't stuck. You had just lost the fershlugginer book.

Patient: Is that what I'd been doing? Rewriting my novel into a play?

Psychiiatrist: Yes, aschloch.

Patient: What did you say?

Psychiarist: Something anatomical.

Patient: Omigod. Does this mean that all I have to do is refer back to my source, my own novel.

Psychiatrist: Yes.

There is the great Aha moment. The patient is cured of his problem and his mental block."That's wonderful, Doctor
How much do I owe you?"

Psychiatrist: Seventy housand dollars.

Patient: You got it.

Psychiatrist: Come back Tuesday. You are clazy. Like roon."

Ah well, that was pretty well the point of my blog.

And now it's intermission time. Intermission until I find that book so I can go on with my play, THE FIRE IN BRADFORD.

Ich bin ein sneaky bastard, no?

Cheers all.


Josie said...

Ivan, You're too funny. (((laugh out loud))).

I have made the mistake of control/V and control/C as well. Arrggghhh.


ivan said...

Thanks, Josie.

Ich bin ein sheisskopf!

Josie said...

Same to you, Ivan...hah.

ivan said...

Zwei kartoffel und das is alles.

One potato, two potato.

I am a crashing bore in three languages.

I once bragged to a friend that I had letters after my name.
He said,"Oh really. I knew for sure you were DP." LOL

EA Monroe said...

Hi, Ivan. You should write comedy! I haven't read anything so funny in a long time. I've done that darn copy and past -- oh, I do it all the time! One of these days you must learn Word.

Oh, about those school pics! I bet you were too handsome for the women that chased you!

I'm wiped out. It's been a loooooong day! Have a good evening! Liz

ivan said...

Just reading about your French cat and his lil pal in your blog.
Joke: You think Liz is mean--you should see her pets!
The French cat is something else!

"Now old Doc Williams had troubles of his own
Had an old yeller cat who'd never leave home..."

OK. So I scribble and sing hillbilly!
Comes from years of listening to the Grand Old Opery on my old battery radio.
That and the Lone Ranger,and Our Miss Brooks, Jack Benny, The Shadow--all the radio stuff we old farts remember.
There are days when I think we are all closet Americans...I mean, Yanks started this country, though
our marital squabbles with the French somehow hold us together as a nation.
Oh what the hell. I want to go to Kentucky and learn to grunt like a pig...I think I watch too many Deliverance movies.
Heh. I would grunt like a pig to write a movie like Deliverance.

Josie said...

Ivan, let's see some more pictures of when you were a young "jiver". I'll be you were a cool cat.


ivan said...

C'mon now Josie, fess up.
I'll bet you were a real heartbreaker when you were in high school. Heartbreaker still!

ivan said...


I wasn't reading carefully enough.

Really sorry to hear Henry the irascible cat has passed away.

I remember when my dog died-- I was just a kid-- I gave her a little
headstone and all, and felt bad.

No question, it's like losing a friend.

In my relationship with cats, I found that they can see very well,better than humans: they can see the whole person's face, very clearly.
Henry looking down on you.
As if he'd never left.

EA Monroe said...

Many thanks, Ivan.

I'm with Josie, I want to see some young jiver pictures! Hey, you can come back to Oklahoma and learn how to pitch buffalo chips. ;-) Or become a rattlesnake wrangler!

ivan said...

I wrote into somebody else's blog
that I just loved to throw "buffalo chips" around, and I do believe it was Bernita who asked, just under my comment, "Which time?" Lol.
Would you believe we have something called the Massassauga Rattler here in Central Ontario?
First rattlesnke I've seen wearing snowshoes. Understandably, it's on the endangered species list.

Josie said...

Ivan, I'm a work right now, and your comment on my blog just made me burst OUT LAUGHING. OUT LOUD.


ivan said...

Heh. I could google the lyrics to that famous Kingston trio spoof, but I'll go by poor memory:

They're rioting in Africa
Starving in Spain
Hurricanes in Bangladesh
---And Texas needs rain.

What nature doesn't do to us--will be done to us by our fellow man.

L(Refrain by the late Nikita S. Khruschev):

"We will bury you
(Bury you)"

Friggin' gas!

ivan said...

Just checked your blog and found you'd picked up the "They're Rioting in Africa" line by old Kingston Trio.

I have finally remembered the end-line:

"And we can be tranquil and thankful and proud

'Cause soon we'll be be wiped out
by that mushroom-shaped cloud..."

High gallows humour.

Ellie said...

Thanks for visiting my and commenting on my site. It is nice to see a "new face" there. I need to skeddaddle on to bed, so I will come back when I have time to read what you all are talking about. I see you and my friend, Josie have quite the rapport going on!


ivan said...

Hello Ellie.
I got your site by way of Josie.

I had had a very bad day, surly taxi drivers who, for some reason wanted to frighten me--Me? I'm an old soldier!--Bus drivers who called me back three times to re-examine my transfer and other attempts to somehow turn me into a victim...Don't know if it's my age
or maybe a lingering, swaggering way. Confidence is sometimes only an emotion.
But what your co-workers have gone through! Death threats, specific ways the guy was going to do it,
a girl alone in a hotel room while the horse's ass was in the area--wow, that would give somebody a nervous breakdown.
So when I read your blog, it made me realize that all I had over here was a teapot crisis.
You say English is not your first language, well, join the club.
I started out in Polish school, then went through Russian German, and finally English--had a head start by living in London, England for a bit. Ended up in Canada.
It can really wreck your mind.
For example, if I were to spell out Ivan in cyrillic uncials, it would come out IBAH.
Thank the Lord, your Lord and mine, that I am not dyslexic!
--Imagine being that way and have to read Russian upside down. LOL.
So yeah, there's a shock starting out in one language and suddenly having to use another.
So you can now join us in speaking plain "American."...But I've been all over America and they take me for a Yank. Heh.

Josie said...

HI, Ivan. I came to work in a rowboat this morning. My shoes squish when I walk.


ivan said...

With love and political correctness:

Beware the gay gondolier!

Josie said...


Ellie said...

Ivan...Have you ever been to Amish Country, USA? You could communicate with those of us who know Pennsylvania Dutch.

I was able to figure out your words and thought is was funny that Josie said, "Same to you" when you made said you were a sheisskopf. Maybe I need to do some translating for dear

My sister and my coworkers are all still spooked, but doing better. My sister actually told me tonight that when she sort of thought over her evening she had felt "watched" but she forgot about it in all the commotion until yesterday. The freak was probably watching her for a few hours! My sister in law came home just after it happened and they believe that she actually scared the dude away by coming home and who knows what would have happened to my sister if he wasn't frightened away like that. We can thank God for sending our sister in law home when he did!

Anyway... I better mosey on, you have a good thing going on here...lots of rapport...

"I'll be back"..(Imagine me saying that in an Arnold Swartzenegger tone of voice.)


ivan said...

That was funny about losing things in translation.
I should have said, "Ich bin ein schwindelkopf" and I would be right--I'm a dizzy dude--but then I'd be back at Square One again.

It has been a half-century since I spoke German, though I did pick up some Yiddish, since I'm so multi-cultural it scares me. My poor kids don't know what they are...Canadian sometimes an elusive identity.

That was some scary episode, Ellie.
I have been in situations like that. I brought on a similar episode when I tried to get back a girlfried from a guy who was always
high on crack. Twenty-six variations, over and over again:
"You got a problem, Ivan;
If you don't fix the problem, I will."
And again: "You got a problem, Ivan..."

I finally traced his number went over to the bar he was calling from.
My former girlfriend laughed like hell when the crackhead came home with a black eye.
Heh. I am a little guy. Banty rooster. I had to jump up in the airand flap my wings to hit him.

Yeah, I'm having fun, but what you describe is almost chilling. Hope that's the end of it.
Ah Arnold. If Arnold can make it with a name like that,I certainly have a role model. But then the guy really is amazing, "und matters of dat nature."

I have been to Philadelphia and Maryland. Lots of Amish folk there.
...And who doesn't want to get his hands on Amish furniture.
Here in York Region, Canada, Amish furniture sells like crazy.
We have a huge Mennonite community around Kitchener, Ontario. Kitchener used to be called Berlin, but, understandably, the name was changed to Kitchener during the last war.
Ah, well, like I say, I'm a crashing bore in three languages--four actually: I had to learn Spanish so my languages wouldn't all be related.
Auf weidersehen (sp,?)


Josie said...

You're not a crashing bore, Ivan. you're a hoot.

Still waiting to see some of those pictures of you jiving...


ivan said...

Comin up, babe.

...Just wonder how I can weave a photo into my play.

Ellie said...

Ivan...can't talk now, but I thought it was funny you described yourself as a banty rooster....we have a pair...Amos and Mattie...The rooster is so hilarious..he is a high-stepper and they are a bit shy...both of them...I don't see you as shy...but anyway...probably a high-stepper..huh?

Back to the daily grind...until later tonight...


ivan said...

Hee hee.
How I miss he old farm!

All Canadians are closet farmers.
Thatt's the stock they came from.

Then, when they make their five hundred tnousand dollars, What do they do?
They buy a farm.