Having my way with Ulysses

Pure fluke of mine

Let us swop hats and excheck a few strong verbs weak oach eather yapyazzard abast the blooty creeks.11:56 am

John Henry Menton, how grand we are this morning.  He might have said thank you instead of nothing.  As if I turned him into stone.  Hates me.  Hate at first sight.  A guy doesn’t like to be beaten spectacularly at anything.  But in front of women, well.  And Molly and Floey Dillon laughing under the lilac tree didn’t help.  The root of his dislike.  Mortified him.  He did nothing but stare with those oyster eyes until Martin, helpful, also told him your hat is a little crushed.  He thanked Martin.  Never mind.  He’ll be sorry when it dawns on him.  Get the pull over him that way.  Leave him under an obligation: costs little.

The simulacrum is true

The simulacrum is never what hides the truth -- it is the truth that hides the fact that there is none. 8:51 am

Silly Milly gave me a genuine reproduction crown derby moustache cup for my birthday when she was five.  Four.  I gave her the real imitation aberoid necklace she broke.  Then we played pretend with the mail, me putting pieces of folded brown paper into the mailbox for her.  Look Milly, you got a bona fide letter and I’d present her with the fake, and look here’s a forgery, and see Milly a fabrication, and this one’s for you a fiction, and here’s yours an invention, and what have we here the make believe, and for you an affectation, and look here’s your pretence, and Milly somebody sent you a fraud and a mock and a pseudo and here’s a counterfeit sham and an unreal inauthentic and oh how nice this one’s the implausible and here’s a subterfuge and a phony and a simulation and the simulacral just for you my darling.  Oh she is my lookingglass from night to morning.  We laughed when she found Mr Goodwin’s mirror in his hat, that polite old perve, bowing Molly off the stage.  Look what I found!  Pert little piece she was, sex breaking out even then.

Ha: high grade

Let the sky rain Potatoes.8:12 am

Got boots secondhand.  Waterproof, necessary in this town.  Hat too.  Keep checking to see passwords still inside the headband.  Safe.  Keys in other pants.  An Ozette potato in this one, family heirloom.  Won’t get key, Molly a light sleeper.  Wiil just pull the door shut.  Should be good enough.  Looks shut.