Having my way with Ulysses

A beacon ever to the stormtossed heart of man, Mary, star of the sea.

Qui donc, si ce n'est un homme, vous a mis dans cette fichue position? C'est le pigeon, Joseph.Holy Mother Public Relations
8:00 pm
 

Recording No. 1132.  The memoirs of Mary, Holy Virgin, Mother of God, Star of the Sea, Pillar of Ivory, Mystical Rose, Beloved among Joseph are you recording all that shit?  Holy Je, uh.  Shit!  Can’t say the bloody kid’s name or he shows up every damn time.  Chrackers!  It’s just not the same.  Get on with it for the love of before I forget what I want to say and CEO Holy Mother Public Relations.  Memoir notes.

Mary:  Can you hear me?  Start?  Right.  The rite of Onella, the torch-light.  So he’s ready but you’re not.  And then he thinks, better wait and now you’re in bed with a man holding back for all he’s worth.  Just what we’re looking for from a man, eh chicas?  There he is teetering and then 32 feet per second per second takes over and now he’s falling.  Or he’s in that kairotic sweet spot between potential and kinetic and hey look at me, I’m extending the moment.  Nooooooooooow.  But just for you buddy.  Give me rising, not falling.  So I push and out with him.  Girls, size them up before you let them in your bed, you listening?  Talk to each other, tell your sisters what he does and won’t do. Life is too short to let any cholo climb in your windows just because he looks good and has flowers. Telling you about the motion of the ocean. It’s the size of the wave, girls, and unless you talk to each other, you don’t know what you’re getting.

Joseph:  Mary?  Mary, can you hold off?  For just a minute?  Having some technical difficulties with the equipment.

Mary:  He think’s a minute is enough.

How goes the time?

penteplenty of pity with lubilashings of lust for Olona Lena Magdalena 10:16 am

Quarter after.  What is quarter of?  I’ve never understood that one.  Quarter of, is it before or after?  Whatever.  Why quibble over a preposition, there is no before or after.  Time enough yet.  Always time.  Where is this?  Ah yes, the last time.  That’s where.  Wait.  Have to go for Molly’s lotion.  When did I get it last?  No prescription.  Alchemist can look it up.

[The shop door rings as Bloom enters.  A toothache he had been experiencing is suddenly cured]

Mary Magdalene: Can I help you?

Bloom:  Yes, a shrunken skull, the philosopher’s stone, a lemony soap, and a refill of a prescription lotion for Molly Bloom.

Mary Magdalene:  Is she in our system?

Bloom:  [with a drugged mental excitement] Yes.

Mary Magdalene:  And you could use a cure for that dandruff.

Bloom:  Not for me.  Do you mean me?

Mary Magdalene: [Mixing ingredients in an alabaster jar]  No of course not.  Let’s see, need to rinse scalp with a little laurel and green tea steeped in distilled water.  Any allergies?

Bloom: Bee stings, so please not an electuary.  Can’t be too careful.

[Mary Magdalene hands Bloom the jar then whacks him across the face]

Bloom:  [With obvious pleasure] Why?

Mary Magdalene:  In case of reaction.  Want to be careful.  Anything else?  Having trouble sleeping?  Maybe some chloroform?  Laudanum?  How about a nice love philtre?

Bloom:  Does it constipate?

Mary Magdalene:  Clogs the pores.  Or the phlegm rather.

Bloom:  Can you mix it into Molly’s lotion?

Mary Magdalene:  Ah yes.  A remedy where you least expect it.  That’s the acid test.

Bloom: [Coyly] I’ll come for it later.  You know, you ought to physic yourself a bit.

Mary Magdalene: [flirtatiously]  And gradually change my character?  You have a bit of pluck!  Now as for Molly’s lotion, tell her she wants to be careful.  Too much and she will experience a lifetime in a night.

Bloom: [Exiting, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs]  Yes.  I said yes.  I will.  Yes.