Happy Birthday Journals: 1— Arthur the Greek Tragedy
Happy Birthday Arthur
Hey Arthur, Tutanekai here, and in the absence of a Herald of notable standing, the following would have been said and/or written in earnest — If it pleases the common folk, I would like to introduce Sir Tutanekai: Safe Sex Advocate for Homeless Dogs; Arbiter of the Arbitrary; Collector of Fine Linen White Shirts; Expounder of the Virtues of Bonsai; Renowned Instructor of two thirds of the Karma Sutra; Humble Servant of Authentic Living and Devoted Companion of Arty Two Stroke…Introductions out the way, I will now slide into a paragraph of the following, noting that it is, indeed your birthday…
Happy Birthday dear friend — If you could only see how others saw you, then I truly think, that you would be exceptionally happy with how the world views you — couldn’t tell you why, I actually haven’t run any surveys or collected any data that would add credibility to this statement, but I just wanted to say it because I am authentic. I once saw a child look at you and smile, I figured that the child saw a kindred soul in you, but then realised that it was because you both were wearing the same shoes, in the same shoe colour, and in the same size, and that made me smile, because I love seeing you find others that share the same fashion sense as you. Your fashion sense, which is something I have always respected, since the first time I saw you walk into Nunawading Hardrock climbing gym in your tight little black jeans, and pointy boots, looking like you just walked straight off the stage of a Broadway Musical about Greek men in Mykonos. I remember thinking of Puss in Boots (who is a hero, much like you). That was the moment that I believe I first witnessed the birth of a star, a man that would bring a high-end fashion sense blended with the street-edge of a “who gives a F” attitude to the Victorian climbing community; a man that I can single handedly confirm was responsible for swaying my derelict fashion-sensed mind to the skinny leg pant. That is an achievement you should be proud of dear friend. In addition, to all the other things that I shall list, so as not to confuse the subject:
— You have a chest that would make a silverback gorilla mildly curious;
— You have legs that if on a treadmill at level 15 would comfortably hold their own;
— You have the indescribable ‘lure of the animal’ otherwise known as Kavorka, somewhat seen as a gift from the Gods for those that don’t have it, and a curse to those that do. I believe you walk that fine line with the balance of Philippe Petit;
— Your english is impeccable for someone from a foreign country, so much so in fact that you would not think that it is was your second language — be proud of that, so very proud of it;
— Your mouth is honey, I don’t know why, but I can only guess this;
— You live each day like it was 24 hours;
— You are the reason that climbing in Victoria has become more popular amongst the female gender;
— You have rhythmical breathing that is somewhat mesmerising;
— You are so chill that a Centaur could urinate on your leg and you’d be like “where’d you come from?”
— These are merely words that have the power of conviction behind them, and so with that, they are then to be regarded as fact.
Happy birthday child of Aphrodite, live it like the very day you came out of the womb, screaming unintelligible words, looking vascular, and downright ready for a good dose of Souvlaki…
Life is a funny thing when you consider that it is made up of a lot of variables outside our control, like attraction — moths are attracted to lights and flames, and yet we know not why, and yet we humans manifest an equal amount of curiosity in our attractions, like yours to my superior athletic ability, the length of my tibia, and the will power to say no to sugar.
I’ve always respected that you respect me respectfully, and will continue to respect that as if that respect was the only thing I respected — now that is respect at its highest level. I respect you for that.
Happy Birthday :)
