Sb© 2010. Waking up in Vegas -- the Magnetic Fields

Waking up in Vegas -- the Magnetic Fields www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXB_p9qwy10 Sb© 2010. Monday the 4th of April, 2008 To Whom It May Concern: Notice #: P8146087 Date: 26-3-2008 Rego: TG3996 I am writing to ask if the $40 parking fine I incurred last week can be wiped. I had paid for parking when I was ticketed, I just failed to place the receipt from the parking machine the right way up. If I must tell you the truth, I had farted in the car and was trying to get out of there as fast as possible. The fart was so toxic that when I returned to the car 55 minutes later I could still smell it. Yours sincerely, Drus Dryden closera collection of letters from Drus Dryden I need you so much closer -- Benjamin Gibbard letters parking ticket certain people I know family hi school england bristophe advertising london girls megan shoeshine. a short story jessie mat & kristy, & jessie mali memory reminder 29 hitting on 30 deeply superficial dot com pop-up store tobi boyfriend business car toilet flush dear me certain people i know Letters to some people I know. Ed and Rozzy are old friends from high school. Everyone else I know through Rozzy, who is what you might call a ‘social connector’, or ‘drunk.’ 2nd of October, 2009 Dear Rozzy: email is probably the wrong way to talk about this, but if our friendship is to continue i think there are some issues we need to discuss. please try and think about how you act towards me. you reflect everything back onto the other person. it’s a defence mechanism, so that you never have to accept culpability for anything you do. instead you put guilt and blame onto others. do you see this behaviour pattern? i ask you why you don’t know what i do with my life, you say i didn’t tell you. even if this is just a minute example, i am done with the larger pattern of behaviour. just because someone did it to you (family/ school/ whatever) doesn’t make it acceptable to do it to me, or anyone else for that matter. i’m only writing this to you because i value having you in my life, some other friends i wouldn’t bother. D R U S Thursday the 8th of October, 2009 Dear Ed: You were asking why I was writing Tim Costar. Well, I’m writing to lots of people. You’re one of my oldest friends, and no one cracks me up like you. But I have to drop some information on you. I used to know when something bad had happened to you not because you’d talk about it, but that you’d call me up to ask about things that had fucked out in my life. I also try and deal with some of my issues through people, but I try and bring other people up, not pull them down. I just want you to think about it. On a more positive note, I’m glad you’ve let go of Foam Rave-gate. Please accept this man love sex charm as a token of my enduring friendship. Sincerely, Sb Monday the 19th of April, 2010 Dear Kim, I was about to write you a lightly abusive letter. It was about a question you asked me once. But then I realised I should actually be writing to Rozzy’s Uncle Peter about it. You’re so easy to confuse, you and the gayest man in the universe. You asked me, once, what I did. Uncle Peter asked me the same question and when I told him he asked if that was all. Although even that wasn’t très offensive because rowing coaching wasn’t all I did then. The thing is I quite like you and don’t want to abuse you, even lightly. You’re a journo, you ask straight questions. Uncle Peter is a gay sex lord. From the look of his sex dungeon, he wouldn’t mind a bit of heavy abuse. Everyone’s happy. Hope you’re good. I am. sensitively, Coach aka Drus Sf 12th of February, 2010 Dear Kat: I am pleased to inform you that your application to be my friend* has been successful. These are just some of the reasons why I am able to extend the hand of friendship to you: You are highly intelligent, super-smart. Even if your scientific intelligence is in some ways opposed to my creative one, I respect it and it has a common root: a sense of wonder at the universe. I even refer- enced you once in a heady conversation about immortality . You have a dizzying sense of fashion, unafraid of strong colours, or dazzling prints and embellish- ments. Even if they are sometimes Michaela’s clothes, you make them your own. Rather the fact that Chae trusts you not to Anna-rize her chi-chae couture is another testament to your good character. As your new friend I’d be happy to lend you my clothes, although I think we may be different sizes. You have cute friends (well, one in particular.) And many more reasons, which will become evident over the course of our budding friendship. Glad to have you on the team. Sensitively, Drus Dryden Sb * This refers to a conversation we had at the engagement party in which you stated that your friends are friends with me, and you would like to be friends with me too, in case you can’t remember. Sb Tuesday the 29th of March, 2010 Dear Mat Q, Fuck I have been meaning to send this to you for agggggesssssss. So long in fact that the date is now the 9th of April. I’m sending you Tourette’s album. Whatever I was going to say about it, I can’t remember anymore. Megan just said that you wanted it too. I sort of liked the album. I went running to it, listening to it right through. And that was good, but afterwards I didn’t need to listen to it ever again. At one point he says something mean about people who have a lot of sneakers. For that I think you should waste him next time you see him. Incidentally I’m about to go and buy my first pair of sneakers in quite a while. Maybe. I’ve been having some colour dilemmas, grey/maroon vs black/highlighter green, that’s what’s been stopping me. I can see why you go classic and white. I’ve only written “fuck” once in this letter. It’s probably not bad enough for a letter about Tourettes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. All this fucking is reminding me of a game we used to play at boarding school. You would have to chant, while clapping, “_____ fuck, _____ fuck, how about a _____ fuck?” e.g. “warm fuck, warm fuck, how about a cold fuck?” And then whoever was “Cold fuck” would have to keep it going. To “Dry fuck” or “Slow fuck” or whoever. The more original, the better. Maybe you can teach the kids that when school starts again. Anyway, how are you? From Drus Sb Monday the 19th of April, 2010 Dear Anna J., I am writing to you about what you said at your place at Easter. You said that you had been working as a cleaner that day, that it wasn’t the glittering jewel in the regal crown of your working life. I thought you may be interested to know three people that disagree with you. I’m one of them. I might be a little biased because I myself am a cleaner. I clean up around a commer- cial building once a week. Some days I feel like a graphic designer and the building is my page. Others, an Eastern mystic, the building my Zen garden. Perhaps I should wear a Kimono on those days? OK it sucks as a job, but I like that I do it. I like that I’m prepared to do it to fund the other things I do, like write you a letter. I like that it shows I’m a fighter. It reminds me of a quotation, “by far our greatest achievement is that we are alive.” My Homeopath made a good point when I was talking to her about work. She said “where would the world be without cleaners?” We’re all so fucking messy. On a philosophical level cleaning represents a profound belief in the future; if the world was ending tomorrow, I probably wouldn’t leave it very shiny. And finally Noel Gallagher. He says that the souls of working people are purer. Just as well for us because I’m not sure how pure your liver is. Anyway I know you were probably only doing it as a one-off, and you do so many other things. I love that you look after that girl, I can’t think of anyone who could do a better job at that. I’m sure the economy will get its shit together soon, and the cameras will start rolling. In any case I would prefer it if you did not talk yourself down in my company. You’re a bold, beautiful Warrior-Princess, and I love to hear your rousing battle cries. sensitively, Drus ps Stephen King used to be a ‘janitor.’ So creepy when the blood comes out of the sinks in It.

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