i just wanted to say, said sponge, i shouldn’t really but these soldiers are raiding this corner next week, some anti-terror safety measure apparently, and we are embedded. we are hoping to having made the move to the next cormer but that is just a hope. we’re hoping to absolutely trash the place, who knows. at least we’re not waiting for anyone.
you wouldn’t get more support than that; and support is important. that a lump of wisdom block of wood had uttered last night but we decided to fit it in.
and there is always something, isn’t there, said sponge. lucky we don’t have a flag to be burn as some people, and i won’t name names or point fingers, but some are easily offended, quickly pissed off, and there is always something to be upset about. always something. — he hesitates. that he wasn’t quite sure he said but everything would be alright as he hoped. just some angst, this angst, that. he said.
——– to end up in a flower pot, not necessarily bad, depending on garden environment. breadroll did not like words like environment as they would be to exotic and to prone to misspelling but that’s not true. on the contrary, fullstop. we hardly use words like this anyway.
fnnn fnnfnnfnn fnn fn fnnn.
did you close the drawer or did i, said blokkk “brutality” wokk.
you did, said breadroll, or did i? he wasn’t there anyway. and: slurrdshh; had butter all over him. one of those mornings of rushed sexuality.
he should have left a note, said blokkk, still letter-k-ayed.
herr brekst did not really care to get answers or attention, he did not really want all that, after all he was a chap to have a pint with, by fair and by square for all that matters or any other saying we could say to his defence on his behalf.
that — or so — was the general opinion, opionion was heard as well, some muttered an oponion, with a whiff of cheese and onion, any cheese in that context, for a crowd had gathered at the corner.
(this crowd then disappeared after herr brekst had paid the taxi driver who kept his mouth shut during the process. there had been some disturbance before which had gone unnoticed indeed by most of us bar that crowd that is currently being beaten up the lot of them. again open brutality prevailed over latent violence.)
breadroll and sponge thought it would be wise to take one corner at a time.
so, no chance for a shop here, said breadroll.
no, said sponge, sadly.
did he say he would be late, said breadroll, i can’t remember.
but you were there, said block of wood, and i wasn’t.
where you not?
no.
i came to ask a question, herr brekst said and they all knew that spring had arrived but still neither knew the question.
the spirit comes not down from above, or below, up then, said sponge, that spirit which is to purify our project, which with its iron besom is to purify the great sty of the department ultimately. pupupurify our essence. our precious fanatically.
and to do that is the task of our movement, said breadroll, the movement must not rust away at this corner, it must not spend itself in superfluous battles of words, but the banner with the white circle and the black dot will be hoisted over the whole of the project on the day which shall mark the liberation of us all.
nicely put, said sponge. i must rest now.
it came to them like the child to our madonna; they’ve been secretly fucking around with somebody but now could not tell the truth.
well it might have been a vanilla bun, said breadroll.
beside the point. it was there now. immobile. non-negotiable. the call for innovation. it better be a good one for a laugh.
sometimes i think, said sponge, that saying something is not the right answer at all. i sometimes even think i should not have said what i have said. like right now. i should not have said this. i do want you to keep sending me txts. promise? ——— now there is one.
grammar is a gamble.
and i should not have had txtd that for is is just a phrase (but noone will notice).
a birthday? sponge hopped with exitement. a funny move but to no avail. do i get to sit wet on a chair like in the old days?
no, he could not do that.
we get to spread a sheet? right, a proper spreadsheet?
no. no spreadsheet.
who’s birthday is it?
someone special, said breadroll.
we cannot tell, said block of wood, it’s confidential; a shame but true.
someone famous, sponge ought to know.
no, a celebrity, said block of wood, tea?
yes. tea, said sponge. we won’t move too much today i reckon.
all in moderation as the english say, said breadroll.
fabulous people, said sponge.
a novel it’s a novel. exitement there was and novelist behaviour. a novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel novel; funny how words start sounding weird when you keep repeating them for a while, said sponge.
novel. he’s got a point there.
once again the sun shone on the alternative, for the sake of it, that was very much like the corner before. sponge had a scarf wrapped around his neck, copycat, for no other reason than today being today and the day that was in it; he stood there, nervously rocking back and forth and starred at the window of the shop.
breadroll sang: around the corner we go and around and around till we’re round and you’re round and we all drop like flies at the corner and around and around we go … an old carvery rhyme or nursery song, written in the country’s barbaric tongue.
we’re here now, said block of wood, the corner shop.
is this the corner shop or a corner shop, said sponge.
i wouldn’t know, said block of wood. it is a corner shop.
what did he say, said sponge, which corner shop? did he give further advice? they say they are selling chairs.
no, said block of wood. i’d love a monster munch. or these ripply things.
so it may not be this shop at all at all?
no.
we should look at other corners. shop around.
we could.
let’s go so.
no.
fine.
that’s what i think. —— sound. a very poetic word. this language, i add three dots …
Not far to be honest. around the corner that’s it it. pretty much if you consider. around the corner. so well put in frank english. around the corner. i could say this a thousand times if i had to. but not now. a thousand times. around the corner. fnn. i must oppose to the use of the word err wood and —— actually. now actually, and and actually in a title in the public. sorry for having been having to say taht err that.
fading fnn’s and argue about it.
how do we go from there, said sponge and breadroll was happy to reply: around the corner.
are you sure, said sponge, that it is that easy.
as easy as that, said breadroll, i was able to break our speech pattern.
true, said sponge, let’s go.
they moved.
breadroll and block of wood are back in the place sponge never has left.
is there anything we can do?
no. nothing.
let’s do it then.
wha?
there’s a t in what.
it’s silent. most of the time.
that’s precisely what the consultant confirmed and recommended himself.
breadroll on entering the room, lightly populated by sponge and more recently, block of wood:–
now, what am i doing here?
i don’t know, said block of wood, get out.
did you like that?
him? like him?
no. that.
oh that. yes.
really?
yes. very nice.
that’s great.
yes, i liked it.
sponge did not like talking to his image mirrrored in a spoon as he caught himself doing —- this, and the fact that the script advised the use of the word leked instead of liked to add something.
he looks sad, said breadroll. he emphasised sad.
he sure does, said block of wood.
it’s the hamburgers, said sponge, they love to be eaten, marginally tasty but very fattening.
so that’s what’s wrong with him, said breadroll.
no, said sponge, it’s just that nobody likes him.
pronounced change of form and change of structure taking place within a comparatively short period of time otherwise known as a whiff, add of time as needed, as the changes undergone by an everyman in passing from the larval to the adult stage where he or she makes him- or indeed herself seen without warning. thus spoke sponge and he added that the roll should back indeed shortly.
the process of changing from one form to another, from the larval stage to the pupal stage to the reproductive adult stage, said sponge, that’s what we are facing daily in our streets, on our trains and most obviously here in our own little midst.
i just feel a pain there, sad block of wood, which was a gross thing to say.
i know it’s needless to say but i say it anyway, said sponge, it’s a … that’s that.
we didn’t say much about the man in the café who didn’t want to pay immediately and stuff. never mind. nothing has happened so far. it is a slow café. we complained as well to no avail.
28 April, 2006 