Having my way with Ulysses

I am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament.

If you would operate by means of our bodies, take a fierce grey wolf, which, though on account of its name it be subject to the sway of warlike Mars, is by birth the offspring of ancient Saturn, and is found in the valleys and mountains of the world, where he roams about savage with hunger. Cast to him the body of the King, and when he has devoured it, burn him entirely to ashes in a great fire. By this process the King will be liberated; and when it has been performed thrice the Lion has overcome the wolf, and will find nothing more to devour in him. Thus our Body has been rendered fit for the first stage of our work.11:42 pm

Well would you look at that. You asked once if I ever heard or read or knew or came across a woman pissing like a man, yes? Yes. And look at him, three hats pinned on his head dancing drunk in the street.  Listen, I’ve got a real fashion emergency here, and you can’t tell anybody, not even Molly. I have my reasons. Don’t attract attention, I hate stupid crowds, just walk with me, yes? Do you remember that outfit you looked amazing with the thing, and the neckline? Yes? You looked much better than Molly, eating what’s her name Gallaher’s sandwich. You know, the one who was with the one dancing in the street with the one with the three hats, yes? Is that your dog? Cute, just don’t let him devour me.  Maybe you could put him in your purse or something. Is that a poodle or a terrier? All dogs look the same in here. Anyway I never liked her style, she was too. Oh God I’m fading. Am I soft? I wonder if he has any pills in that bag, yes?

Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a fraction of a second?

For our beginnings are a barred and palpable body, the mean of a fugitive spirit and watery gold without conversion, from which our masters have accepted their own lives, the end however is permanent.11:40 pm

You slumming here!  You ought to see yourself. Tell me, do you remember the night we, when there was, when we were so inclined to? We had such a nice little mix up of the marital, is it beyond recall? Can we again, maybe, oh how time flies, hark back in a retrospective arrangement to the housewarming party remember? Blindfolded feeling for partners (oh you had such soft corners!) and you and I by the teapot talking about what it means, what it meant to me. You. And you now. Lady and the Unicorn (what were you thinking?) but we can’t change that now. Or maybe we can, eh? Want me to kiss the spot? Could you? I have a little present for you, if you’ll ever forgive me for it.  If you are so inclined. Just for a moment. A second. A half second, really, just a small. Just a little. Won’t count really, just a little fraction of a fraction. Mathematically insignificant. What is time, really? Just a pin prick of it, just a little something, shall we, won’t in the grand scheme of, don’t you see, I know somebody won’t like it but the ears can’t see what the lips won’t hear, if you understand my dear, my faun, my hart. How graceful are your feet in those gold sandals. You are so elusive in them. My fugitive. Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle. Whatever do you think of me? Do you remember what I whispered in your ear that night? I bit your ear and sent you a secret valentine and said

Squeezed up with the laughing

Weeping shouldst not thou be when man falls but that divine scheming ever adoring be. So you be either man or mouse and you be neither fish nor flesh.5:10 pm

I tell you I don’t think anything could have beat it for entertainment, I swear to Christ. You should have seen it.  I still can’t stop laughing what with Breen running all over hell like a lunatic idiot in his slippers and his wife chasing after, and Doran drunk and blubbering about God and dead Dignam and Christ and one eyed Moses I’m still not sure he’s dead or they’re just busting my balls, and then the citizen wanting to crucify Bloom dancing around bizarre outside just give him a reason and he gave him one.  Jesus H. Christ where do I start!  My sides.  Oh I can’t breathe.  I’m sorry.  I can’t.  It’s just too funny.  You had to be there.  Give me a minute.  I’ll tell you.  Give me a minute. Where do I.  Holy Christ.  I’ll be needing another beer for this.  So.  So.  Shit I can’t breathe.  Breen.  O hell!  Breen wants to sue for lib.  I can’t.  Libel.  He waited outside John Henry Menton’s empty office half the morning then went to Goulding’s to see if somebody there wouldn’t piss themselves laughing in his face.  O God I can’t.  It’s just too.  And then.  And then.  Hoo.  Ok.  Ok.  Let me drink this.  Yeah.  And then Tom Rochford sent him to Long John Fanning and holy Jesus you can imagine how that went!  Whooo.  Tears in my fucking eyes.  I haven’t laughed this hard.  And now he’s looking for a cop.  What a dumb ass!  Such a douche.   And all because somebody sent him a postcard.  God it’s beautiful.  U.P.: Up!  Can you just?  I swear to God.  People think I’d done it but damnit I wish I had.  Beyond funny.  There’s more.  I’ll tell you the story but I.  I.  I gotta stop laughing first.  Give me a minute.

Let her speak. Look straight in her eyes. I believe you. Trust me.

Sons of the sun, mother of living creatures. Fiercely met and loved, with all the hypocrisy of longing: importation, exchange, and tourists. In the country of the big snake. 1:16 pm

Ran into Josie Powell today.  Breen.  Still beautiful eyes.  Womaneyes.  How are you, How’s Molly, Milly at a photographer’s, yours?  Not sure how many.  I didn’t ask.  Sad to lose old friends she said when I told her about Dignam.  Was once Molly’s closest and mine too, well that’s quite enough about that.  Asked about her lunatic husband.  Hard to get around to that.  Just: quietly: husband?  She answered by looking in her purse, chipped rattlesnake.  He’s a caution to them she said.  Women’s purses.  Rummaging, wide open.  Money, change, credit cards, used tissues, tampon, lipstick, lipstick, lipstick, phone charger, clean diaper, altoid that was: fell, receipts, hair clips, wrappers, take a number: D26, phone, checkbook, who carries those around anymore, medicine bottle, postcard.  Up?  U.P.  U.P: up.  Somebody taking a rise out of him.  He went to oyster eyes Menton wearing slippers on his feet; sue for libel.  Well he has kids, so there’s the proof of that particular pudding.  If that’s what, I don’t know.  Up?  Meshuggah.  The guy is nuts.  Not as nuts as Cashel Boyle O’Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell who swung past us on the outside of the lampposts.  That rat fell into a brewer’s vat and never recovered.  Can say the same for Josie Powell.  Breen.  Shabby, old clothes.  Used to be a tasty dresser.  Beautiful eyes that night at Luke Doyle’s.  Only a year or so older than Molly.  Lines around her mouth.  Lunch on her shirt.  Smells, maybe from her, of butter, flour, demerera sugar.  A rhubarb tart with liberal fillings, rich fruit interior.  I could still eat her up.