• There was some kind of an announcement going in the background at one point when she was talking. Like at a railway station maybe?
3rd eg of how useless I am: The way that I have got you so mad with me and I don’t even really know how I did that. I was just mucking around when I suggested you give your English teacher a blow job back in my original letter of whenever that was. But maybe that was offensive? I don’t know.
I’ll make a confession to you. I’ve never had a girlfriend.
Once I asked a girl out, and you’ve gotta wish you didn’t have a supersonic memory when you experience something like that.
It’s because of all the brothers, I guess, meaning I don’t know about girls. The brothers do teach me about cars. (Brian taught me how to drive when I was nine, Kevin taught me how to hotwire a car and Jack taught me how to siphon petrol out of other people’s fuel tanks.) So I’m all set when it comes to cars, but they don’t teach me about girls. And I’ve only got one sister and she’s younger and likes to beat me up, which teaches me nothing apart from shame.
So I’ve got nobody to learn from, see?
So, maybe, can you forgive me and stop sending me misery all the time?
I’d really appreciate it.
Thanks
Charlie
Dear Charles
If you are feeling depressed, you should eat a Chokito or a Crunchie or a Caramello Koala. Any one of those will make you feel better. I always say that you should eat a chocolate which begins with the letter ‘C’ if you are depressed.
Also, if that doesn’t help, you should go shopping. And I’ll tell you a particular secret: you should go shopping until you need to go to the bathroom, and then you should go to level 5 of the Grace Bros city store. I tell you, those are such gracious bathrooms. You will feel fully calmed. They have a very sun-dewed light so you look attractive in the mirror and they have an unusual basin for washing your hands. They are clean and modern and also very contemporary.
I was sending you misery because you were very offensive to me, telling me I was an old lady and challenging my legal connections etc. I am a sensitive girl, Charlie. But, as you now see, I am also a nice and compassionate person, and I have sympathy for you because I get depressed myself sometimes. So therefore I have decided to stop sending you misery, and give you a break.
This is on condition that you stop talking about me giving my English teacher a blow job as that kind of talk gives me a headache.
Maybe you could tell me about the time you asked out that girl and I could give you suggestions on what you did wrong, so therefore you could avoid doing the same things wrong in the future?
Yours sincerely
Emily
PS It’s a funny thing that your brother Brian made a paper aeroplane out of your statement as a way of humiliating you. Right now, my brother William is in the kitchen melting chocolate bars and then putting the melted chocolate into moulds so as to make chocolate shapes. It is one of his favourite things to do. And he is even making one in the shape of an aeroplane, and he will probably give it to me, and that is an example of how much nicer my brother William is than your brother Brian.
PPS Another way of cheering up is to stop thinking about that gas leak trick. JUST PUT IT BEHIND YOU. It has already happened and it’s all over, and you have saved humanity or anyway, if there was actually a gas leak, you would have saved humanity. So get over it.
Dear Emily
I’ve got to say, you hit me for a six again. That was so nice of you to think of ways to cheer me up and I have got faith in humanity again.
On my way to my History class the other day, I thought maybe the class was planning on giving me a surprise party, or at least a Mexican wave, to thank me for getting them out of doing the exam last week by hitting the fire alarm. I could hear shushing inside the room, like everyone getting ready for something. But when I got there it wasn’t to do with me, they were just planning to scare the shit out of the teacher by hiding under the desks and then jumping out and screaming: ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY!’
It wasn’t our teacher’s birthday as far as anyone knew, but he has a weak heart and we were supposed to be doing the postponed exam. So I guess you live in hope.
I’m just waiting in the admin block again at the moment, so I’m using the opportunity to write to you.
‘Brookfield High School. How may I direct your call? No, sir, this is not a waste disposal unit, I’m afraid you have the wrong number.’
That’s what the secretary is saying. I’ve noticed, in my times here in the admin block that a lot of people seem to think Brookfield is a waste disposal unit. It must have a similar phone number.
Well, as I said, I feel a lot better because of your kindness in your letter, and I will do what you suggest and tell you about the time I asked out this girl.
It was last year, and it’s a girl in my Science class. She’s not even that hot so I thought she would think it was reasonable for me to ask her out. She wears these cute hairclips all over her head, like in the shape of lady beetles and birds and things, and she also wears long white socks.
So, I’ve gone up to her and I’ve gone, ‘Hey, how’s it hangin’?’
And she’s gone, ‘Up yours.’
And I’ve gone, ‘Woo hoo, up mine, eh? Nice one. Maybe we could go out sometime so I could hear more of that humour of yours, eh? Maybe a movie or something else of your choosing?’
Though I’ve gotta say, I don’t think she was actually intending on being humorous.
And she’s gone, ‘Would you get lost before you put me into a coma?’
And I’ve gone, I’ve just gone. I mean, I’ve just got lost, as per her recommendation.
So can you give me any advice on what I did wrong?
I’d really appreciate it.
Thanks again and catch ya later
Charlie
Dear Charlie
Well, for a start what you did wrong was ask out a girl with lady beetles in her head and long socks. A girl like that does not deserve to be asked out, or even to be alive.
The other thing you did wrong was that neither of you were drunk. You should always ask girls out when you are both blind and so therefore you can’t see each other.
Anyway, I’m in English at the moment, and I’m so hungry that I’m just going to take a pain-killer. Excuse me.
Yours sincerely
Emily Thompson
Dear Emily
I appreciate your comments about the girl I asked out and I think you are an alcoholic. If you need alcohol to give you courage, that’s alcoholism.
Maybe you could give me some advice on how to pick up chicks. You seem like a very experienced girl, I have to say, and kind of professional about life. I am eating a Crunchie this moment and I’ve got to say it cheers me up, just as you said.
There’s one girl my heart belongs to at the moment, but she’s just been taken by a class-A prick who happens to be captain of our year. He also gets himself the starring role in every drama the school puts on. I say being the guy-in-charge and a star should be enough for him. But no, he has to get Christina Kratovac for his girlfriend as well. She is the hottest woman alive, I swear to you.
Hey. Sorry I had to stop then. The smoke alarm just went off and the sprinkler system turned on in our classroom. You won’t even be able to read this letter any more because the ink’s all running, eh? I am soaking wet. The good thing about it is that we now don’t have to do our exam on South African geography. I’ve got to go get a change of clothes or something.
Catch ya
Charlie
Dear Charlie
When you say ‘pick up chicks’ it reminds me of ‘pick up sticks’, which is a game I used to have as a child. I do not think it is correct to refer to girls as colourful sticks in a pile on the floor and so therefore please don’t use that expression.
Also, I don’t think you should refer to a girl as ‘the hottest woman alive’. For one thing, it might be offensive to the girl you are
writing to. How do you know the girl you are writing to is not the hottest woman alive? I am not saying that this is true, I am only giving you a hyperactive situation of how you might give offence.
However, you are very inexperienced and so therefore I will forgive you for now.
I think that I should give you some lessons on how you ask a girl out. And then you will be able to ask out this girl who has your heart, named Christina.
However, Lydia and Cassie are waiting for me this moment, standing right beside me trying to read over my shoulder, which makes it difficult to concentrate. We are about to take the train to Lydia’s place because we are spending the weekend there and painting the walls of her bedroom. Lydia says I have to explain that we are not just painting the walls like wall-painters, we are doing a mural. We get one wall each and the fourth wall is for practising. But I don’t think that’s necessary, for me to explain that.
Wait one moment and I will ask Lyd and Cass for their ideal way of being asked out.
Okay, Lydia says her ideal way would be this: it would be the guy with the nose stud and the blond hair who works in HMV in Castle Hill and he would sell her a CD and he would put a little purple note in the CD cover saying a time and a place, and she would not even know what he meant and whether it was serious, but she would be curious and have to go there, and when she got there, there would be a waiter standing at the door, wiping his hands on a white cloth, and, speaking in a Russian accent, he would say, ‘You are Lydia? I have a message for you. Go now. Go to the second elevator from the left and press the up button’ and she would go there, and she would see an electric guitar leaning against the elevator door . . . LYDIA IS GOING ON AND ON AND I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE DOWN ANOTHER WORD. LYDIA, YOU MUST LEARN TO CONTROL YOURSELF.
I am going to ask Cass instead.
Cass says that her ideal way would be for the guy to be Brad Pitt and he can just call her up and ask.
I am not sure that they understood the question correctly, but at least it is a start for you to work with. You could think about getting a nose stud, for instance.
Okay, I have to go as they are both trying to take the pen out of my hand as you will see from the handwriting.
Yours sincerely
Emily Thompson
Hey Emily
Thanks for your letter with the good advice. I would think about getting a nose stud but we have a crisis in the family at the moment as Jess, my sister, just came home with a tattoo of barbed wire around her wrist. My mother has been crying her eyes out and my father punched a hole in the kitchen wall.
My brother Kevin didn’t make it any better because then he got home with a broken heart and a tin of black paint, ready to paint his room black.
That’s a coincidence, eh, because you and your friends were painting bedroom walls over the weekend.
Anyhow, but Kev shares his room with Jack and Jack doesn’t want the walls black, so they’re just beating each other up in the backyard for a while to sort it out.
I hope you had fun with your friends. Did you?
I’ve got a heap of homework right now and it would be good if I could do some of it, eh, but no chance in this family.
See ya
Charlie
Dear Charlie
Well, I had a very nice weekend, thank you.
Lydia’s bedroom walls were this revolting orange colour so we made them extremely fascinating, and then we just watched movies and talked all night, generally.
Cassie is an excellent singer and she did this BEAUTIFUL song that she made up, all about painting the wall, and she wrote the words on the wall with paint so we could join in on the chorus. I can’t explain how beautiful the singing was because you can’t write music.
The sad thing is she will never sing in front of anyone else except us and I guess her piano teacher, and maybe she sings sometimes in the shower and maybe a passer-by hears. Also, she did sing at her dad’s funeral last year but that was too sad for words.
Cass is just not the kind of person who can sing on stage.
And there is nothing wrong with being a shy person is what I always say, as long as you tell your best friends every single thing inside your head. Incidentally, I am a bit suspicious that Cass is not obeying this proclamation.
You know what, though, Lyd and I have noticed that Cass is writing a lot of letters to her penfriend person at Brookfield. This is a mystery to us, but he must be a nice person, whoever he is, to get her to write letters like that. She never usually likes to write stories or essays or anything. She is more the sport and music type of girl.
What I am thinking in my psychological mood is this: Cass does not explain the expressions on her face.
You must express your feelings. It is a rule.
I don’t mean you though. Boys should never express their feelings. It’s really annoying when they do and makes them less mysterious, which is what boys should be. There’s a guy in my English class who is always saying how books make him feel, like in Julius Caesar, it made him feel really angry to see the violence in the world. For a start, who cares how he feels, not me, and for another thing, that’s not how you are supposed to read, you are supposed to look for the Themes and the Characters, and for a final thing, the teacher really gets off on it when this guy says how he feels and praises him to an extent beyond belief.
Therefore, in conclusion, when I say ‘You must express your feelings’, I mean a person should express his or her feelings, unless the person is a boy.
Yours sincerely
Emily
Hi Emily
Well, Kevin won the fight in the end, so he was able to paint his bedroom black. Only he was too depressed to lift a paintbrush, so I had to do it for him.
I really need some help, Emily. My family is making me crazy.
We didn’t have to do our Science test today because our teacher had his car broken into and all the papers stolen.
You know what? I’ve been working on my memory of that gas leak incident. I feel like all my problems would be solved if I could find out who tricked me like that. And made me miss out on that car show, wasting time going to the cops. Even though it was not really my fault that I didn’t know we are a fully electrical school with no gas to leak, it was still a humiliation to be tricked by that Gas Authority girl, and to have the cops laugh at me. So I really want to try to find out who that girl was and maybe get her arrested.
I have been trying to remember what that announcement said in the background. You remember I told you there was some announcement going on while she was talking to me? Now I think I almost have it.
Would all [something something] who are [something] on
the inside of the Balkans, please be devout immediately
[something] and the lives of others.
Something like that.
So that seems to suggest it was an airport or a train station. Something about devout passengers going to the Balkans? She was making an escape is what I read into it.
Catch ya
Charlie
Dear Charlie
You should chew on fresh mint all the time. You can get it from your mother’s mint garden and you can always keep it in your pocket.
I think that one problem with boys is that they often smell: eg, Body Odour or Breath or just a general Boy-smell.
For an example, I have an Uncle Christopher and he has a real tendency to drink coffee and eat garlic and sardines and so therefore he has Breath.
So this letter is a reminder to eat fresh mint from your mother’s mint garden while you are asking a girl out, and to move out of your home. That’s my advice for now.
My other advice is that it will not solve any of your problems if you keep thinking about the girl who called you about the gas leak. It will only keep you awake at night, tossing and turning, and that is no answer. That girl would be long gone now, since she was calling from an airport. Plus, maybe she is not so evil as you think she is? Maybe she really DID believe there was a gas
leak? MAYBE IT WAS A WRONG NUMBER. Have you considered that?
Sincerely
Emily Thompson
Dear Emily,
Okay, fair enough about the mint though I have to say that my old lady is the last person on the planet to have a mint garden. I’ll pick some up at the supermarket.
But even if I got Christina to go out with me, what would I do once I got her out? As you can see, I am a hopeless case.
I can’t go home tonight because Kevin thinks I took his motorbike for a spin. In actual fact, it was Jessica. So maybe you are right about moving out, but how will I live?
I will try to stop thinking about the gas leak girl.
See ya
Charlie
Dear Charlie
I have got some more advice, as I see you are miserable again and I wonder if you are taking my advice about the toilets in Grace Bros.
But I wonder if the boys toilets are the same as the girls toilets? That is something I never thought of and it’s good that I’m writing to you as it puts a whole new perspex on the world.
Here is some new advice. The ladies seem to really go for Lydia’s dad (Justice Oberman). They love him! ☺ I have heard tell (from Lydia’s mother) that Justice Oberman’s name was once a cinnamon for sex god. This was in his university times.
I asked my parents about this, but they just laughed fondly, remembering the days of free love.
All our parents are friends, you know. They used to smoke pot together but they gave up to set a better example to us. However, they continue gathering to drink whisky (the men) and gin-and-tonics (the women) and at some point in the night, they always play a song by Kate Bush called ‘Wuthering Heights’, which makes them dance wildly, in drunken disarray.
Well, anyway, they used to do this often, before Cass’s father got too sick and, even when that happened, they still hung out at his place and laughed loudly in their variety of laughs.
Now, getting back to Lydia’s dad, the mystery of it is that he is bald. ALMOST COMPLETELY BALD. And he does not even seem ashamed of it, for example by wearing a hat or a wig. He would wear a wig when he is being a judge, of course, and that is probably why he became a judge, but I do not see him wear one in normal life.
Finding Cassie Crazy Page 5
