So what does ‘KIWI LEEKS’ want from me? Help!

Yes, what does ‘Julie-Anne Aux-Saussage’  want from me?
These last two weeks have not been easy; I’ve spent hours I’ll never get back trying to answer this question.
Nowadays, with IP tracking, packet-sniffing, Face-Book snooping, one can get at least a skeleton-grasp: She’s an immigrant to New Zealand from (possibly) French Guiana, 29 years old, unmarried, living in a rental at 23 Hereford, near the corner with Fitzgerald in Christchurch, NZ.

Her IP is (usually) She is a fervid vegan (Doesn’t wear leather shoes) and has a small organic vegetable business somewhere outside of town, selling onions, garlic, and the like. But mainly ‘LEEKS‘, a member of the onion family, beloved principally by folks who dream of clearing out an entire crowded elevator with one horrid ‘leek-breath.’ Of watching panicked victims decide, spur of the moment, to all get off at the 3rd Floor… for impromptu root-canal surgery.
Anyway, her satanic contribution to world-wide halitosis is registered for tax purposes as ‘KIWI LEEKS, Ltd’
Ok, none of this explains why she should have hacked my email, published all my precious Palindromes for anyone to claim as their own, and kinda made my life a living Hell. What ideology could motivate her? I mean, I raise only vegetables here in Israel, and have never posted anything disparaging about vegetarians. (Oh, except once jokingly asking why, if they love animals so much, they persist in eating the animals’ food.)

I’m pretty sure that the key to this all was a post a few weeks back where I revealed my secret encryption system. Simple and effective: I and my trusted confidantes merely reverse the letter-order of the message. Un-breakable. Or so I thought.
 Julie-Anne apparently thought differently. And must have spent hours cracking the code.
In conclusion; to what depths have we sunken that a fellow so innocent and well-intentioned as your Writer should be anonymously tortured… and without even so much as a published political ‘I believe’ Manifesto with which I could at least argue?
Meanwhile, the last ‘gold’ she found was this (banal, agree with me) MSG to an old High School classmate, Tess, who is now ‘good at computers’:

(We’re trying to get an emulation of Ellen (‘E’)’s pioneering early-days network back on-line, just as an ‘in-memorium’. And I’m having techie problems using my own computer as a ‘server’. Font-sizes.. stuff like that there..)

What this has to do with:
Kiwi Birds:


or Leeks:

Yup, that’s today’s Question!

WU: You sure this is all true, Solberg?

ME: Ok, mostly. She’s actually 31… And ‘in a relationship’. With what, I’m not sure; Reality?

WU: Sorry, I wasn’t just talking about details.. Um, why do you DO this stuff, guy?

ME: You heard the one about why the dog licks himself?

WU: Yeah; ‘because he can’. Ok, I get it. Carry on, bro.


4 thoughts on “So what does ‘KIWI LEEKS’ want from me? Help!

  1. eleanorio

    There once was a girl in En Zed
    Who grew leeks in the back-garden bed;
    She cracked palindrome
    As her hobby at home
    Just to make JS crazy in the head.

    1. solberg73 Post author

      Well, that explains it all.
      (I could easily feel unworthy of having one so elegant and poetic as you ‘on my side(?) Or at the least ‘on my site’. And I do need support, having my political career scuttled by ‘pungent is a nice word) down-under crabgrass growers. Perhaps I brought it on myself, I ponder, having chosen the private home-server, and a less-than RSA-spec ‘secret code’.
      Seriously, between us, the fun is poring over Christ-church city-maps, ISP addresses, reading all about birds and veggies… I actually have two rows of leeks here, but who know, after this outrage I may refuse to eat ’em.
      Thanks for your fine comment. El.

  2. somewittyhandle

    Well, I was delighted to find Wicky-Leaks. Long car journeys have always presented me with a problem. With each slug from my very large coffee-thermos, I am aware of an additional burden on the capacity of my bladder. Filling a bottle on the go requires dangerous contortions, and leaves you with the problem of how to dispose of the contents discreetly. The solution? Wicky-Leaks. The wick fits discreetly into your rubber bloomers, and draws the liquid away by capillary action. The other end of the wick dangles, equally discreetly, out of the car window, where it dries in the breeze. One 10-metre coil of the product is good for about 300 miles of motoring, wherupon the spent wick, now loaded with crystalline nitrates can be cut up and used as dynamite.

  3. solberg73 Post author

    Hahaha!! I’ll just repeat what I said when I first read this: ‘If this guy ain’t the most satisfyingly comic, droll, and absurdist Reader one could dream of… I’d love to meet any competition!!
    Only downside is that it reminds me of my own ‘challenged’ bladder capacity, which, if graphed over ten years, would resemble the river-bed topology at Niagara Falls. For now I make-do, without wicky-leaks, by carefully pre-positioning bottles, out of sight, on any job site. I never worried, in my over-active youth, that the stupid prostate gland, pissed at working over-time, would exact revenge at age 60+.
    (As to dynamite, I do recall working hours as a young pup dreaming of purifying Potassium Nitrate from our abundant cow-poop. But these days, it’s 50 cents a kilo., clean.. (if one loudly professes a need for ‘fertilizer’.. for the cameras.)
    Thanks, Dunc, for yet another permutation… which only you could have permuted.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s