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Unspeakable secrets of the Aro Valley

Written By: - Date published: 7:26 am, March 18th, 2013 - 5 comments
Categories: art - Tags:

I’ve just been alerted to the fact that Danyl from the dimpost has a novel out called Unspeakable Secrets of the Aro Valley.

If it’s as entertaining as his blog it’ll be a must read. I’m looking forward to getting a copy.

5 comments on “Unspeakable secrets of the Aro Valley”

  1. lprent 1

    Yeah. The underbelly of wellington eh…

    • fender 1.1

      Home to the best dressed man in NZ…..TheContrarian….providing fashion advice, zigzags and cactus juice to neighbours with no shoes đŸ˜†

  2. Tim 2

    I haven’t yet read Danyl’s contribution but this post and its comments piQUed my untrus (Interest with a JK Ek..sent).
    I had cause to head for Brooklyn on the weekend, so on my daily constitutional, headed uphill via the long route, but afterwards – downhill via the Owhiro Rd root [sic intended]. A side benefit of the effort was to watch a trendy mUddle class legitimise their committment to “the LEFT” by supping TradeAid Coffee in gorgeous little boutiQUes, worrying about what the next screening of a relevant movie might be at the loacl …… and so on

    As I veered off-road near the top of Ofiro Bay Road, (SO…) to take what I thought might be a more attractive route, there…. me finds what’s obviously the poor homo’s, (OR a homos of limited means of sexual gratification, OOR… those that are into outdoor sex’s meeting place – (the only one, or just one of them). Who fukn knows!

    I personally couldn’t give a fuck about what the desires, the proclivities, or how the most expedient means of ‘getting off’ are, or how the randy homo wants to fantasise.
    AS Tenessee Williams once protested: “I’m not gay, but I’ve travelled the waterfront” – even though he was as has gay as a “red-indian tepee” hovering around a fire of passion.

    As I ventured downhill….. there was about 3 or 4 packs of mentholated cigarette butts stubbed on the ground and about 2 of un-mentholated. I let my prejudices kick in – I thought desperation!. Some-one or some-many had either been a chain smoker, or had waited a huge amount of time to score.
    Amble on by, and there goes the occasional (as in occasional – I mean the track was not LITTERED with) spent phranga/frenchie/rubber/condoms – often with obvious fecal material attached.
    ….Not exactly an image I’d wish my grandson to encounter or wonder about, whilst I attempt to instill the sense that prejudice (on gorunds of sexuality, race, gender, et al) says more about the prejudice’s holder, than it does about the harassed.

    Having ‘travelled the waterfront’ myself, though in a trad str8 situation – in which the significant other knows the history….. I often think LGBTI folks (and obviously I’m included), could do well to STOP and think at times, and that often they are their OWN worst enemy. That’s especially so when it comes down to gay guy’s mysogeny.
    For example : Quite content to USE females as their confidant’s, their mothers, their bestest frenz, often the means by which relationships (or even quick roots occur) – they might consider the use of terms such as ‘gash’ (and others that have an “ew” factor) to describe the female genitalia, when their own is actually quite funny – is not exactly kosha.

    How about a working bee weekend maybe to clean up all those little bits of afterbirth that were left in haste, but which re-inforce and justify the stereotypical image and prejudice on the Ofiro BAY to Central Park main entrance.

    Btw…. I also wonder about other things such as why the unlawful feel hard done by (I mean the burglar, the gang member, the petty crim even) after they’ve ripped off their ‘friends’, or family, or frenz-of-frenz.

    Outta here – I’m sounding just a little Right wing for my own liking

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