Rider and the Harry Exchange


Dear Nixie,

I write to you cool as a cucumber and looking for squares. Some months ago I was perusing a book on anti-gravity ...and simply couldn’t put it down... when an ol’ chum of mine interrupted my division of sin by tan ...just cos... I’m a problem solver at heart. Well he came by to tell me all those problems were solved and guess what? It’s all down to you Ms. Nixie. Well at least I thought so anyway. He was down with the tude and I said;
“Yoh whadup? You been mixing sulphur, tungsten and silver again ma homie S.W.AG?
And he slipped off the shades, rotated the veritable acetabulofemoral  joints and simply explained;
“No Bro. I got it.”
And i said;
“What?”
And he said;
“ I’m now the pure hipstomatic, supersonic dudatron and I’m a gonna make the ladeez plead for me!”
And I said;
“Secret formula periodically on the table brother. Are we thicker than your collected works of Miss Marple anthology or what, hey?”
And so he gave me the low down from wardrobe to heliophobe and the dark light. Well both of us transformed within weeks from grappling to happening and then.... I met a nerd gal, a geek freak.... and she liked ...nerds and geeks too, the true kind, not very popular hipster wannabe nerds though.... and... so... I NEED TO URGENTLY AND MOST DESPERATELY ENGAGE THE FLUX CAPACITOR THIS VERY INSTANT. I need to go back. I need to return. I need to find the true and blessed pastures of geekish nerd once more. Re-new me,  Re-Neek me. Take me back Nixie...Please do not delay this top secret request. I’m counting on you.

Urgently Yours,

Mr.L.O.W.Rider

Dear Mr Rider,

I’m afraid some months ago I discontinued this particular self help column. As aforementioned, I’m reluctant to superficially parade as any such “it” girl but where geeks and nerds come together in peace, yes, a proficiency and authenticity in the matter may well exist for me by way of credentials and a fare sway of firsthand experience. Let’s start with a quick fix then shall we? Change your name to Harry, hitch up your daks and square off the glasses. Hairs in your hands though.

Yours,

Nixie

Dear Nixie, 

I followed all of your instructions with the additional support of directing all happening style alerts to the area of our drummers hair flair but something went drastically wrong. I’ve never worn pants so high or glasses so square until now and before we could say Jack Robinson, the devils Prada had me on the front cover of a magazine with a fashion show to boot.
“Waisted...The new high...The new cool”
That’s what they are calling this new trend. Everywhere, everywhere Nixie, everywhere I look, high and even higher, there they are....cream coloured, high wasted cinos and square glasses. And it’s the new black. Oh what shall I do? Where shall I go? I’ll never return to the good ol’ days of my own true self. Please help me Nixie.

Mr Harry. H. I. Pantes

Dear Nixie,

My names Mr. Q. T. Drumerr. I believe you have had some contact with Harry recently. I’m wondering if you mightn't mind having a brief word to him. It’s only that I’m finding the pressure of having to provide style modules on hair a little distracting from the business of making music. Sorry to trouble you but he simply won’t listen to me and I think if it came from you it might get him of my back. It’s becoming quite a bother in the morning that’s all.

Regards,

Q.T.

Dear Q.T,

I’m sorry. That  was completely Harry's idea. If it means anything at all, I think you’re a super musician and a lovely man. Keep up the great work. Please don’t contact me again. This self help line is officially closed Mr Drummer. All the best now.

Nixie.







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