From Newsgroup: rec.music.dylan


Rachel <rachelbl@aol.com> posted:

On Jan 30, 4:21|e-apm, Rachel <rache...@aol.com> wrote:

Bob Dylan probably doesn't like me because I am too happy.

This too, shall pass.

That's what my old boyfriend whom I wanted to marry used to say, before he broke my heart. I cheated on him, btw. It meant nothing. The
stories are in the archives. But maybe I deserved it then, even though
he didn't know.

Bob ain't no angel, and neither am I.

There, are you happy now Treadleson?

I have been explicating Bob Dylan's lyrics and writings and drawings all day!

So there!

Love,
The Hysterical Bride, whose life still sucks, because she just wants to be alone in a room with Mr. Bob Dylan, omg, that's so crazy, it can't ever happen, I can't believe it, it's too good, there is no way.
He hates me, anyway, like that girl said. She was very believable. he's probably married. He's doesn't mean a word of what he sings. Just
remember that, when you watch him. His work is a total joke. "Bob Dylan" is a farce. Robert Zimmerman, I guess that's another story. : ( (He's a good man, he's married, I'm his soulmate, but it's never going to happen, because I am not good enough to be a mother, and on top of that, I would never marry him if he has been doing all this, singing about me, and married another woman. That's totally insulting.) (Ok, I would, I would do anything to be with him, but I just don't have it in me, I'm too fat and lazy, no, seriously, I am too ashamed, and I am scared to death, every time I go back to the Dume Machine in sanity, I have been trembling.)

SHIT! I kinda lied, but maybe I knew it underneath?

I was only remembering trembling walking onto the property with a big opening and the "NO TRESPASSING" sign, until Kirby showed up.

But I knew I trembled, but I forgot. I mean, I know I was very very nervous the first time in the cab, my head was down, it felt totally wrong, but I don't think I was trembling.

When I was fried on speed, sick at home, and thought, this is ridiculous, he's there, I'm here, (9/23/95 at night in Califonia) I'm going, and went, without my wallet, to top it off, but that's not why
I got arrested, anyway, when I was petting Hero and Screamer, two of the german shepherds, I was scared to death (trembling). Because I thought Kirby knew exactly why I was there, to be with Bob, and how would it happen? (I also got all nervous inside walking past Kenny,
the guard, because I thought he would say, "STOP!" but he didn't, and
I got really nervous, and kept going, sped up, then got lost, it was all trees and bushes, and I saw the big dipper, and it took my breath away, and I was just standing there staring at it, then Kirby came in (appeared?) with the flashlight, gently touched me on the shoulder,
and brought me back to the guard house, then introduced me to the dogs.)

He said, "What d'ya wanna meet 'im for?" (twice), I was just standing there, not knowing what to do, my head down, and I thought in my head, "SEX!" and kicked him to get away from me. (I could smell alcohol on his breath, and thought he was looking down my shirt.) (My head was down. I could feel his breath, and his face.) He threw me on the ground, and that's why I was arrested, not trespassing, although
that's what the ticket said.

So, I am a big fat lazy slut.

I have no idea how to be respectful with Bob Dylan.

I know I am just gonna say the wrong thing, and make a complete idiot of myself, and I don't care what his songs are about, I just want his body. Just kidding.

Ok, fine.

Ring ring

Rachel: Hello?

Bob: This is Mr. Dylan

Rachel: Ah finally. What are your songs about?

Bob: I don't remember. I was high.

Rachel: Good. That's what I thought. Wanna fuck?

Bob: Sure! Be there momentarily.

Rachel: Bye

Bob: Bye.

No, just kidding. That was stupid.

There is no way I want to know what the songs are about, because it's impossible, it means Bob Dylan is like G-d, like some kind of secret society in fact, or just something totally unrealistic that can never be, it was all a coincidence, I am blowing everything, I am ruining my chances at getting married and having children by writing on the Internet.

It's a secret Jewish conspiracy orchestrated by the Kabbalists or something.

I want no part of it.- Hide quoted text -

- Show quoted text -

Wanna hear something mildly amusing?

For the first time in my life, I misused the word momentarily.

It's mildly amusing because in the body of the text it appears as
though junkie bob dylan said it.

have fun masterbating, mr. dylan.

love,
disrespectful rachel

i'm not even talking to him.

bye.- Hide quoted text -

- Show quoted text -

It could be an American conspiracy.

I have no idea what I am talking about.

I'm ruining everything.

Forget it.

Yeah, sure, you are traveling the world then you are coming back to
see me.

You are so full of shit, you are going to expode.

Why do I keep doing this?

He doesn't read it.

Bob Dylan won't give me the time of day.

It's ok.

I understand.

Just remember, those are my songs.

It's my brain.

Bob Dylan stole my brain, haha.- Hide quoted text -

- Show quoted text -

Dear Bob,

Maybe if we had a baby, it would be Jesus. haha.

Rachel

Dear Mr. Dylan,

Don't you just wanna be friends? I'm an Internet superstar.

Oh well.

I know I'm not.

Google is probably hiding all of this, and even the link in
bobdylan.com is going to be taken away, and this is some obscure
Usenet group, and everybody is going to think I am schizophrenic.

Well, guess what?

I was already thinking that anyway.

I seriously think I might be schizophrenic like John Nash, but I don't
know where to draw the line.

I don't know what this is all about.

It's so confusing, I think I might blow my top.

Also, I am not a good person.

I'm too much of a risk for you.

And I should never have children, that's for sure.

Sorry to bother you.

Love,
Rachel

P.S. I know, I am totally insane.

Beings back bittersweet memories, I loved Amy Winehouse.

|#-f-O-A
--
Poetry and songs of Will Dockery:
https://www.reverbnation.com/willdockery
--- Synchronet 3.21a-Linux NewsLink 1.2