Thursday, May 10, 2012

The Mystery of Van Gogh's Left Ear


The mystery surrounding Van Gogh's left ear shows no sign of abating. The Ear still refuses to talk about events in 1888. Primarily it was believed the Dutch painter cut off his ear with a razor after a row with Gauguin. Van Gogh walked, hopped, or ran to a nearby brothel, and presented the severed ear to a prostitute called Rozamond. She advised Vincent Willem that she only accepted cash or payment by PayPal for her services, and told him to stick his ear. Where? According to certain observers' Rozamond imparted, "... [where] suns and universes ceased to be."

Some believe Van Gogh's left ear ran off to Milan to become a successful opera singer and that the present ear is an impostor. The French police have announced that investigations are ongoing concerning the whereabouts of Paul Cézanne's hair, Claude Monet's beard, and Edgar Degas' nose which hasn't been seen in Paris since 1917.

Harsh times, indeed, for connoisseurs of the art world, and suppliers of Earwax Removal kits.

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All evidence concludes that the brain and the body are intimately involved with each other. Today as I was eating my ninth large watermelon (it is believed the fruit has a 'viagra-like effect') I witnessed two neighbours, Hans Faraway and Constance Compass, in what can only be described as an electromagnetic clinch.

His brain and her body danced in a trance-like state. Faraway's brain was wearing the large head of a donkey with long ears. Constance's body - which was facing north - attempted a bungee jump without the requisite elastic cord. She was last seen waving hysterically from a hot-air-balloon using unfamiliar sign language.

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I'm considering names for the characters of my next novel. Working title: Life Isn't Fair It's A Brunette. A character's name should proclaim their nature. I'm toying with Shirley Koalabear as the husband and Friedrich Sniffer as his wife who suddenly announces (while chewing on a perfectly cooked roast male leg) that she is a cannibal.

Friedrich Sniffer is recruited by the army with a mission to reduce troop numbers. Her weapon: a bottle of HP Sauce. Objective: to reduce the army's basic pay, benefits, redundancy and severance pay budgets'. I've written the end of the novel first to gauge how long the story will be. I estimate about 60 meters if the weather holds out.
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Reflections: I purchased my current house because of its name, Deep Roots. This morning I rose late, and the building is nowhere to be seen. It even had the audacity to take my black laced boots, thin summer jacket, and collection of church bells.