Gina WrightI Am No Longer The Notebook...I Am Entirely Grease 2
An email between a now deceased person (virtually erased, not actually dead) and myself has made me realise a couple of things.
First of all...that I'm not allowed his pink laptop just yet (since he's not actually deceased...he's just been virtually canned)...
(That's the real kicker, right there. Not getting that laptop)
And that secondly, and most importantly, I've realised I'm not Ally from The Notebook...
(Okay, I am, but for this post, just humour me)
... I'm actually Stephanie from Grease 2, like I intially longed to be.
I find myself very alarmingly like her today:
Just when I found you, I lost you...I found myself murmuring to our recently erased (Homer Joyce, for you that haven't cottoned on yet...I know. Trying to be subtle. Apparantly just coming out and saying things these days is very bad, and is not allowed)...
No ketchup!!...I found myself screaming at the girl down at the local burger store (will not name fast food joints...I'm suddenly all-too aware of repurcussions for things I say, or may not say)...
All male periscopes down!!...I found myself saying, in an imitation of how I should act...(males are not allowed erections. Oh, no. That is very bad...
What am I supposed to do with all my romantic heroes in my books??? If your hero permanently has his periscope down, the heroine would send him to a doctor...perhaps Dr Bloggs is available??)
Get bent!...I found myself shouting at my laptop in response to some things said on Orble today...
Oh, wait. That was Mindy from The Simpsons. Perhaps I'm just Michelle Phieffer all round (I wish).
And, of course, there's that little thing Stephanie says (or sings) that I live by:
Think Pink!
(But apparantly pinkness is waaay too sexy for some. I have no idea why. I thought Pink was all about sensuality...and a bit of innocence mixed in)
I may have missed the point entirely here (Stef is not known for her intelligence, after all. Just her sauciness)...
But this is my farewell to Homer Joyce (subtle, hey??). May he Rest In Peace.
And give me your damn laptop!
xooxo
First of all...that I'm not allowed his pink laptop just yet (since he's not actually deceased...he's just been virtually canned)...
(That's the real kicker, right there. Not getting that laptop)
And that secondly, and most importantly, I've realised I'm not Ally from The Notebook...
(Okay, I am, but for this post, just humour me)
... I'm actually Stephanie from Grease 2, like I intially longed to be.
I find myself very alarmingly like her today:
Just when I found you, I lost you...I found myself murmuring to our recently erased (Homer Joyce, for you that haven't cottoned on yet...I know. Trying to be subtle. Apparantly just coming out and saying things these days is very bad, and is not allowed)...
No ketchup!!...I found myself screaming at the girl down at the local burger store (will not name fast food joints...I'm suddenly all-too aware of repurcussions for things I say, or may not say)...
All male periscopes down!!...I found myself saying, in an imitation of how I should act...(males are not allowed erections. Oh, no. That is very bad...
What am I supposed to do with all my romantic heroes in my books??? If your hero permanently has his periscope down, the heroine would send him to a doctor...perhaps Dr Bloggs is available??)
Get bent!...I found myself shouting at my laptop in response to some things said on Orble today...
Oh, wait. That was Mindy from The Simpsons. Perhaps I'm just Michelle Phieffer all round (I wish).
And, of course, there's that little thing Stephanie says (or sings) that I live by:
Think Pink!
(But apparantly pinkness is waaay too sexy for some. I have no idea why. I thought Pink was all about sensuality...and a bit of innocence mixed in)
I may have missed the point entirely here (Stef is not known for her intelligence, after all. Just her sauciness)...
But this is my farewell to Homer Joyce (subtle, hey??). May he Rest In Peace.
And give me your damn laptop!
xooxo
H.J.'s [offensive colour deleted] laptop?
You will get it ...
after I am truly dead and buried.
Not a moment before.
David.
Rugby World Cup 2007
There's a bit of De Profundis ad te clamavi Dominum happening here ...
I'm crying out from the grave here, K.L.!
K.L.!
From the grave!
K.L.!
Anyone?
...
Help?
...
Someone?
...
K.L. ?
Deus, Deus me?
Quare me repulisti me?
...
K.L.?
...
Anyone?
...
Help?
Again? ...
Damn, I liked that guy. I wish him well and I hope I hear from him.
JZ
Mr Joyce asked that his now ‘Last Will & Testament’ be posted publicly on Orble. In pink!
The way Mr Joyce wrote it?
IN PINK! ON K.L.’ SITE. WITH A MARSHMALLOW GRAPHIC!
Anyway, legal matters aside.
And his pink delirium aside.
And his inability to write prose aside.
We have to respect the wishes of the dying. Even failed writers. Even those who have not done anything at all to even qualify as failed writers. He certainly was ambitious. I have never known a wanna-be like him. I prefer to think of him as a never-was myself. The audacity of the man. To aspire to be a failed writer! Words fail me.
Regardless of the fact that our firm believes that he thoroughly deserved to die for pretending to be someone he was not, and that our firm would have eliminated him from everyone’s memories, was it in our power to do so, and within the law, we did not. Regardless of all you hear about legal firms, Ms Almeroth, a legal firm is actually a group of human beings who work as a team. Together. Team spirit. We create a community atmosphere of individuals. We care. Don’t be deceived by the fact that we do not know our co-workers by name or our clients, and have no contact with them at all. We are providing them with a service, and for that they should be grateful. And we have a reputation to uphold, albeit that certain individuals will take us to task for that. Ms Almeroth, let me look you straight in the eyes, and without a shadow of a lie, tell you that these people who take us to task? They are nothing more than ungrateful wretches. After everything we have done for them? Sound legal advice. A nice office to sit in? It’s that simple. They should get down on their knees and thank us. Yes, we do charge for that. The going rate? Out of your league.
Mr Joyce? The complete opposite to us. He deceived people both in real life and virtual life. And was not honest. And for that. We of the legal profession believe he deserves to hang. What a shame his is already dead. We will not get the pleasure of seeing him die. We shall have to content ourselves with writing his obituary. For a fee of course.
You have to bear with us here, Ms Alermoth. You seem like quite an emotional person. We do not want to hurt you but the plain and simple fact of the matter is that your friend Mr Joyce could not write for faeces.
Due to this … immutable fact …
We have taken a bit of liberty with his words, as bad and mis-interpretable as they are, and interpreted them in the fashion that we see fit. This was an added cost of course Ms Almeroth. As professionals, let us say, for all intents and purposes that we have taken ‘poetic licence’ with his words. As much as it disgusts me to put the term poetic and Mr Joyce’s name in the same sentence. What else could we do? When our thoughts and expression of them in our words are filled with such clarity? We may be in the legal profession, Ms Almeroth, but we are not judgemental. That is the judicial system not the legal profession. Do not get them confused.
A little bit of background information will help soothe your pain K.L. as to why you are not going to receiving Homer’s Pink Laptop.
No. Please don’t cry.
During one of his rare moments of consciousness during his coma, we were able to speak to him, and he was, let us say semi-coherent (which is all we need to execute a will). Let us say, just between you and me, he made no sense at all.
He was raving about his writing. He wanted to make sure that this DuskDevi woman got them. Some woman, apparently that Mr Joyce knew. Mr Joyce kept raving about how she gets it. How she gets everything.
At the time, not knowing this DuskDevi woman ourselves, we were to say the least, a bit suspicious, and more than a bit cynical, and highly skeptical. However. After a thorough investigation at Mr Joyce’s expense I might add, we established the verity of her existence. She is real. As real as you Ms Almeroth. As real as Mr Joyce used to be.
However.
We had to inform Mr Joyce of the cost of executing a will.
Mr. Joyce?
No money. Nothing but a pink laptop, a small suitcase of books, and the clothes the hospital threw out as being unfit to put in the hospital laundry basket. That was the sum total of Mr Joyce’s material possessions.
He was a complete loser, Ms Almeroth. A failure at life itself.
Sad. Tragic. But obviously it was a Karma thing. His past lives must have been atrocious. His present life. Worse.
But that is not what we are here for today Ms Almeroth.
We are not here to dissect Mr Joyce’s life and tear it to pieces. It would be a waste of time. The man did not have a life.
For us to waste our time on tearing his life apart, would be about as useful and trying to cut the wind with a two-edged sword.
When Mr Joyce realised that it would cost him everything he possessed to bequeath his writings to this DuskDevi woman (and that is including postage and handling, and lawyers fees, which does also include the coffees we had from the machine in the intensive care ward). We are professionals. Ms Almeroth. Professionals. We account for everything, besides our own exemplary lives, which need no justification, as is self-evident.
When Mr Joyce realised that he would have to sell his laptop to pay for this?
His words?
As true as I stand here today.
As I sit.
K.L will spew pink marshmallows all over the place.
Being familiar with legal jargon, we understood.
He meant. Sell it.
And I was quite prepared to do that.
To my son.
For $5.
However, Mr Joyce said, ‘All I want for it is enough money to print out what is on it and send the hard copies to DuskDevi.’
And so, being lawyers, we abided by his wishes.
Printed them out at our office, and sent them to this woman. At Mr. Joyce’s expense.
And that is why there is no pink laptop for you, Ms Almeroth.
We also found a small suitcase of quasi-religious books under his bed. Catholic rubbish in my mind. So we did the right thing.
By the hospital.
Had them sterilised.
And put them in with the discarded bandages and the likes.
Then sterilised our own hands. And brushed our teeth, Ms Almeroth. He was sharing our space in that room. It was either get out ourselves or hope that he would die, so that we could breathe some clean fresh air.
The following day, we asked Mr Joyce what he would like in his will.
My Joyce said that he had nothing left. Everything he had ever written was on that pink laptop.
But he did have one thing he would like to bequeath.
And so Ms. Almeroth. Mr Joyce has asked that you bequeath his forgiveness to everyone who has ever slandered him.
That was all that concerned him before he died. He was distraught that people were ruining their own reputations over one he didn’t have.
The only other thing he left in his will, Ms Almeroth. His love for this DuskDevi woman and yourself.
Quite frankly. I think the man was mad.
There is no way I would lower myself to do either. Forgiveness? Love.
The man was certifiably mad.
But I am a professional lawyer, who respects the wishes of the dead. Even if I do think his opinions are not worth the toilet paper they were written on.
There was no way we were going to give him a sheet of our legal firm’s letterhead. The man couldn’t write.
I am so glad this is over. I found the man quite distasteful.
Thank you for your time, Ms Almeroth.
V8 Supercar Pitstop
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get over here and give you my support but I've had a lot on my plate recently.
Homer was a great writer and I'm sure he'll be missed by a lot of people. I believe that what was done to him was unfair, undemocratic and showed a total lack of respect and abuse of power.
Homer Joyce RIP.
After everything that has happened recently, I believe you have the most right of anyone to be rubbing your hands together with glee and celebrating his demise with countless glasses of pink champagne.
But you're not.
Your beautiful forgiving nature, integrity and love has seen you come out and support a man who, not long ago, wasn't worthy of any sympathy from you.
For that I admire and applaud you.
And I join you with your heartfelt goodbyes to a fine writer.
CC. xx
Celebrity Obsession
I can't believe it. I'm away for 2 weeks and HJ is banished from the Orble Kingdom? His crime??? Best as I can figure, it seems to be the heinous sin of refusing to conform to the small minded views held by many???
Weird.
You have written a lovely tribute, and as Andrea said above. It is a tribute to your own wonderful nature that you are as saddened by his departure as the rest of us, when you had more reason than most to revel in his demise.
A lovely post as always.
KylieW
Brain hurt. Testicles shrink.