I gratefully acknowledge ..
I’ve been told that when a bloke writes a book he should put an acknowledgement up front, a few words of thanks to those who helped him along the way. This, they say, is the right thing to do and seeing as how there have been a few of each on this blog (and others) over the past 4+ years I thought I’d give it a practice run.
In no particular order:
This is the Dude747.
The Dude747 steals cars for a living, the Boeings are a little out of hand for one man to lift.
This is the Dude in a stolen Cadillac ten miles out of Las Vegas and that isn’t Milo and milk he’s drinking – Dude747 drinks mescal mixed with paint thinners. He always on the job.
He’s not big on wardrobe, the Dude, and if you want to take a pic of him then you get what you get.
Dude747 reckons our man SM was part of an interstate, stolen car outfit. He had the tools for it reckons Dude, and here we have old Prosper T just up the road and he was known around the courts for this and that regarding cars. No lint in PTs’ pockets either
You want to hot wire a Hillman Minx?
A little zinc foil to carry the current, cut down knife and scissors to shave the wires, a paint brush for changing the rego plate, screwdriver for the ignition and door lock.
No socks in SM’s suitcase?
That’s where his cash used to be.
That bulge in Dude’s duds? It isn’t a gun, and Vegas’ crap tables are always loaded..
Some things you can do with one hand in your pocket.
Jilly was in and out of the comments box quicker than Flash Gordon exiting the escape hatch and he didn’t muck around waiting for the speed of light to catch him up. Like Jilly, he was there one minute and gone the next.
Jilly is a proper little lurker and her name is derived from Genocide Jill, a character and the alter ego of Touko Fukawa from the video game Dangan Ronpa.
Here be Touko, avec scissors and homicidal intent. You have to hand it to the Japs, they do real good bad schoolgirl.
Thought I’d forgotten about you, didn’t you Scott, old son?
I did. But now I remember.
Scott: this name was first attributed to Uchtredus filius Scoti – which is one sonafbitch mouthful for an American to remember so they shortchanged it to Scott so that’s what Scott got.
Philbrook most probably means the Uchtredus family spent the best part of their time chucking rocks into the creek than ran through the village so they could bank up enough water to take a bath every now and then.
Scott ain’t no ordinary punkass yank online rapper; he lays down some serious lines when the mike light goes on, him and the other guy, Forrest. They The Team. A couple of problems with the lyrics but when those two dudes crank it out, it stays cranked.
Lewiansto was the name of the founder of the Frankish dynasty, recorded in Latin chronicles as Lewdovicus – this of course is common knowledge and what’s more, Lew baby’s geneology goes all the way back to the Merovingian dynasty.
Do the matrix. Lew is not to be taken lightly.
You want to know whose eyeball Lew is chewing down on here?
Lew comes into your life like the nightwind, that cold, creeping, whispering presence that slides over the windowsill, oozes along the floor then settles it’s chill above the blankets.
When Lew’s in town best to sleep lightly.
You should know something about geese. Where I live we use geese to control wild dogs and train alsatians for police work. Every time we hear a suspicious noise at night we let loose the geese. When the next door neighbour gets onto the dark rum and weed then starts firing at the night sky with his Mossberg Pump 500/590 we send in the geese.
The Goose is like that. He sees it, doesn’t like it, so he goes for it.
Go the Goose.
Nowak is a slavic name and this ^ is your typical slavic guy – so seeing as how Rob’s comments are always on the suave side – measured and low key – we’re voting that Rob N photos up like Bogdan here. We like the unlit Kensitas, the Corps Commander cap and thousand yard stare.
The unruly lock of hair.
Rob has got it.
Clive’s name derives from the English word: cliff.
Clive of the cliffs.
This makes sense because Clive is all-seeing and all-knowing. Clive doesn’t have to squint when he’s spotted something in the distance; he can zoom into any topic, massacre the false reasoning then glide back up to his roost with hardly any blood on his talons.
Clive has 20:20 vision, a wide-brimmed hat and a good wardrobe.
Here we see Clive wearing an Outback Trading Co. Cliff Dweller Berber lined oilskin vest. Clive is onto it – he has the look and the moves. BIG time
Yuri can be Russian, Greek, Hebrew, Japanese, or Korean. In Hebrew, Yuri or Uri means “the light of God.” This could mean his folks might be cousins of Misca; either that or they thought the guy’s name was enough to get him through life without going bankrupt or being married twice.
Yuri knows what’s what around here, he knows things.
But like Yuri Pleskun here, he has a problem with either putting the lipstick on or wiping the blood off.
Misca gives us choice. Is he Mischa? Or is she Misca?
Mischa is a name of Russian origin and means that a babe christened thusly looks like God, according to Mum and Dad. Which is a tough one because none of us has set eyes on him, yet.
We vote if Misca is male then this male hunkster is Misca. We see Misca as a worried kind of guy, deeply furrowed, and who has time to comb hair when the world is going to shit in a tin can?
Misca cares for that, plus his beard could do with a trim.
Misca, relax man, take a day off. Even the Big Guy did that. Never mind that dude over there with a gun under his coat.
Nobody ever say we don’t cover all the angles here.
The word got to me late this morning that Misca doesn’t grow a beard, wear jockey shorts or have an underarm problem.
Because Misca ain’t a Mister.
When Ms Misca walks through a room the only signs she leaves behind is the whisper of nylon stockings and a faint reminder of Caron Poivre. At $1,000 per ounce you don’t splash that stuff about.
Misca also does good eye make-up.
This is her in interrogative mode. Misca has just walked into the chamber, closed and locked the three-inch thick steel door, flicked on the overheads and turned to give her victim the best dead-eye in the business.
The suspects usually spill everything in the first sixty seconds then spend the rest of the interview asking her out to dinner.
I’m guessing Misca would go for a dozen Sydney rock oysters to begin, one of Nino’s New York Bellisima Pizzas to follow then finish up with a Chef Olivier Dubreuil Decadence D’Or cupcake.
For drinks: a cocktail of 1788 Clos de Griffier Vieux Cognac, 1770 Kummel Liqueur, 1860 Dubb Orange Curacao and early 20th century Angostura Bitters.
Gordon: Scottish: Defender of the Fort.
The only pics of Gordon C available on the net are of a reasonably mature guy with lots of bright lights and magnifying glasses in the background. That’s because Gordon is on a lifetime mission and he’s defending his findings with the bloodthirsty zeal of a warring Carvetian.
What we have here is a pic of Gordon celebrating the first, complete decryption of the letter Q. We were lucky to get him to put down the Scotch bottle long enough for a quick rafter-hang off the trusses of his mud hut in Cumbria.
I’d put in the whole shot but GC has knees to make your eyes water.
Aye, Gordon lad. Aye.
Ellen is Greek, originwise. Meaning Ellen is bright, like a torch. Ellen is also Hollywood and if some crazy-baby thought comes to her mind she wants to see it in bright lights straightaway. Usually here.
But that’s ok, we dig Ellen because she’s big where she comes from and all she wants us to do get in close for a solid Yankee squeeze me. At the same time old Ellen can get in our ear and drop a few one-liners. She does that, often.
Americans are like that.
Xlamb is big on words. When this lady comes to town with something on her mind you’d best put on a pot of tea, find a comfortable chair, sit down and listen. Any woman who can write 1,000 words a minute and get the spelling right is a better man than most.
Xlamb likes cuddly lambs, all soft and fleecy. She also likes something with a bit of tooth and claw. Xlamb leaves it up to us to decide which one we want to scratch.
Byron is a tough one: origin is Byre, meaning Cowshed. We know about cow sheds up here in the hills and the floor gets sticky a lot.
That being the case we thought we’d go for Byron as in Byron (the) Bay, home of hippys, dopers and surfers. I should know, I was all three at the same time back in the day.
Byron is Mr Facts. Everything BD puts down is backed up solid with evidence that you could put in front of a magistrate, not like the speculative nonsense you read around here.
These babes are Byron’s Byron babes. They follow him around every time he comes up to the Bay to ride the wild surf. Rumour has it he has a fair collection of Jimi Hendrix albums in his closet at home too, and knows the difference between what Timothy Leary popped and Aldous Huxley smoked.
I think that covers it … who did I miss?
Dang! I forgot Ed.
Edward: English: means Rich Guard – The guy has money.
Ed: Shortened English: means not so Rich Guard – The guy has spent too much on Vietnamese pastries and good coffee.
Ed Gordon, I hear, spends his spare time on the beach leaning back on a fishing boat and chucking away more lobster flesh than he can eat – and that’s not when he’s counting his money and batting away all those half-naked pearl diving babes who like to dry off and learn English at the same time.
This here is Ed G looking a little like Graeme Green, and like GG, Ed is known for knocking off a few miniatures from the Hanoi La Selva everytime he gets a corporate voucher for a one night stop-over. That and library books from the Executive Lounge/
Kikuchiyo – the author
” I never want to be a worm.”