But there is one person, who frankly sums up the whole damn Quinn in it....
Why there was never a point ever bothering assuming even Florence Nightingale of the "animal hospital" would follow through....follow through with her in writing assertion she would have for her so called hospital, the materials...
But then Hercules, or is it Odysseus, simply kept on doing the mission, the job, the quest, what should e...in a sane world. And succeeded. But the pictures are too dark and dusky. Tonight.
Despite
Their 'weather'...
Weather just is.
But then townies never lived that.
16 Feb 2022
these pages to be edited soon - country folk use The GOOD weather ( extremely warm for time of year) as it has been to do country things, when bad weather returns then it is time to get back to screen based stuff).....extremely busy being an environmental operator - truly ensuring EVERYTHING is reused recycled, as i reduce to the simplest existence possible-which is pure joy, and then planning work - long long aware necessary, on publishing some of the reality in regional extremely cynical wildlife crime.
But the imagery in fact gets ultra poignant to the nth degree any moment now
And this one is not part of 'it' except is the only one that actually matters.
In that whilst i doodle here and
there in a few online portals - never ever promoted via any other website and
never ever do i waste one second googling any "traction" i may have,
to use another of their silly horrid technoTeletubbie words, i write only for
myself and the fairies. And occasionally email a url or two to someone i have
thought may be valuable., I probably went mad too and am wrong.
anyway here in this only
poignant and poetical portal, i don't think i have even mentioned the
'situation'.
Silly bad journalists hyping
everything of course missed that in reality their own domestic administration
in their own country in REALITY gave up almost all rules some time ago.
Quite rightly. As has
As the local elderly off duty copper i met up here at the next style up from this one mid May 2020 peak ultra freak out ‘lockdown’ made it quite
quite clear to me sat there him watiching the sunset one evening at least two
hours out from his abode.... “no one should care if WE are wandering our
lovely hills all day... bollocks to their neurotic city people rules.... “
But that is not any interest of
mine. My only interest since mid April 2020 is that i happen to live somewhere
were there are very many adorable styles like the above, up in the hills - an
hour amble from a small village nearby with safe parking or a lovely campsite
nearby or a few houses i am known at where spare rooms were always available
for someone with a brain, wishing to spend some great time ASIDE all the
neurosis...and amble around some styles....
They don’t have to have
appended themselves to me. Though self interest was an occasional tripod
holding person would have been useful. Because i do do a little filmic stuff
elsewhere that i know is good. And brave. As it is about the virtual fascists
that greedily damage lands and wildlife around and about, even here. And it
gets so so tedious standing around just me and a selfie stick.
There we go... what a gorgeous
period of discovery: every single one of dozens of folk engaged with over
nearly two years stating they would love some walking in the hills, time
'aside' the bullshit; maybe even collaborate in a few wonderful healthy outdoor
animal focused projects i had ongoing, and never ever ever in any way their
money involved stated at outset, is a lying mad bullshitter...
pity them all.
Because they will never get up
to these lovely styles ... far too busy spinning more lying yarns about their (fake)
homespun little existences on their absurd Instragrams and less so facebooks
(usually only affordable on southern money - tons of it....and a husband still stealing
money from everyone via the city of London or some other such bullshit factory
such as consultations to health or other 'industries' ... they can never quite
forget exists)
pity...
Being "Quinn" and
just forgetting all of this cant and vanity and every word online being a lie,
except from me, was the fantasy of another deluded user... so be
it. Knowing where the goalposts actually are is always the only source of a
quiet mind, and actually real centeredness and peace...
End of sermon... bollocks to
all. No one ever ever ever for a millisecond takes from my enjoyment of my
styles... hopefully soon to be uprooted to another warmer region. Or maybe
Norway...or....
processing ALL of ones shit is
terribly good for the soul. Especially the absolutely tragicest ever ever
ever stuff and turning it into sort of 'art' ...here... for my reader or viewer
to chuck rotten fruit at, is freedom.
As i have at last, bloody ell, control pannels... the final resting place.
Pictures of what came before, the absolute rubbish phase of several weeks of "wow yet another stunning sunrise to stick on my instagram..."
my pictures have a real story. Even if i would love to know where the gateposts lie with one particular ...'influence'.
So wjhat all that matters is that i have found noyt one but two sublime spots, no vehicles, no botheration, no ownership, simply aside. Until who knows what. Next.
The truly poignant period, coming up.
Except he - the fatso redpotted one, gave me an idea at dawn today: Indeed, a little audio too. But it must be perfect. No more rag tag writing and posting, pure art only now. And if it does not make you cry, i want my money back.
Although due to an internal errpr, one doesn't quite feel ready to enjoy the actual 'moment'...
testong
tersting
settting?
how the hell do i get back my squiggle?
these creeps and their megga games acquisitions before they have ever fixed their original 'products'...
always take ALL the fun away from all of life...
Never mind make one look illiterate, just when i want my reader. And she is not one way only.
And so in the sublimest poignant period of human history perfectly exemplified by all those digital people figuring what copyright to give away and then having all that lovely free time to upload, we have, what is better than any other. The first, time....
I mean you could not make up how truly ....well it has all been a gift. The most extraordinary gift. Especially if you know for certain there is 'more'.
which all by the way has been fully photographed, including all the failed social work - especially Mrs "dad" on one hand and "dave" on the other, and sadly she will be dead in a year or so- i saw it in her eyes yesteraft...
And only fifty two....
Andf the fasiled social work "It is because of her I am leaving, April 2020my life been so absurdly full since, it seems like ten years ago, today, i recall the moment well, sat reading Tolstoy at the river the world dying of self pity and along she walks.....and she was trhe catalyst to it all, but her lies and madness, well.... you saw her with your own eyes...and know it's just good old fashioned apetites - for too much of the stuff that kills you and makes you mad"
Forget her, even if I am loya and to the bitter end she must be herded towards someone who will be 'daddy'.... at fifty fucking five...
And ten grand per year in her bank....not her own of course
But fast forward an hour, to now...
I didn't know his name and now i do.
What a story does he.
Deep down it was always she
The machine.
But there is balance in being a machine entirtely aside.
And wakes up in Master Hardy's Woodlanders... they're everywhere...
And has the time and poise and grace.
I have earned her now....
the time to let the shivvers of non flu go up and down the spine and like a virus on acid dance around the stomac like the chammpagne fizz in, (no time to foind the reading glasses why the fuck did i never learn to touch type..the goddesses with theor wonky sense of humour know what appened yeteraeve...her JOKE... same name as my wonky muvva.... her joke will go dpwn in history as.... from her New England ashram fuckwit central....,)
to import her ....and leverage her in to him...his pitiful existence seven years im working on him....
This is the nobel gold medal not disabled gold medal despite all their disabilities...
biblical in proportion and effect...
piece of social work ever in hostory....
and as The Sprourt sort of knows i cannot lie...
well i dont know if this is the right one - there is opne... that has the most superb sound you can hear the drug addicts wevery thought and lost cause in his voice....
even if i used him in my 2020 counselling....."luv...Dave.... he did it the tuf love way..."
failure...
but all that matters is me, to be able to have the fizz and when the kairios comes know... i earned that, the champagne digestive juices...
It was impossible, and then.....
welcome to the greatest chunk of free social work, no playbook or rule bopok, just dont cut your jair metaphorically and....
(i got the last good one off ebay a year ago just for her.... only best 20 bucks i have ever spent ...photos to come soon - but never ever ever for money.... I mean Montaigne would be turning in his grave with or without his most accomodating Missus bent over the Aga in front of im.... at the the complete and utter How To Live...
It just works. The whole Quinn phase even and thank god no London tart answered her email, because they've just no idea ever how to entirley let
go
but where?, that's the complete and utter daily joy.
Where?
But here, picture it: poignantly,
down the track there's the old thing she wants me to shower in her place.
Poor lamb with all that bourgeois 'design';
Didn't vax err from the blues...
Nor the mutts.
Fancy uns too
Only one i think may just be vaxxed is the ladybird bird, and ok i know it is time to 'go'
But the damn problem is
(to be continued - work in progress, to nowhere)
Back to the scene.
Woodlanders, ague... misery and ennui,
and maniacal harridan babes throwing love bombs all over the place
the Reddle Man in his little van
Immune.
His inventor was wrong:
Sorry those images, if you know all along they had the most beutuiful cant and vanity
woven in.
And just how simply perfect
a-vax
144 years yore they would be.
To the only happy bunny on the planet
Every ferkin day. And you get used to reddle.
My bag of reddle, her red gascans.... (admittedly betterthan the other brand)
But ere is the thing that maybe the Michel man alone may have got
Her.... for her own good, her.... 'wellbeing'
use her, but never that way, thank you very much....
Images, soon.
I aint some butterfly ladybird
But no mere 'reader' or scanner could imagine the total and utter power living every day from 05:13 behind
Nothing
that is more everything than even I could have imagined.
And then it came, just like that as i sideled up to the toothbrushing stop.
"Of course!; she may well represent the exact opposite. The enemy; the killing bitches (research showed it was more female than male, sorry girls, wimmin revel in cruel torturing animal sports - or at least one sort, more than us poor chaps - must be some 'reaction' to .... god only knows what) .... but had it not been for her and her Harmony Hair spray looks and.... hairy harmony hair i would see an image of utter poignant perfection those days ony... three years gone by
" cannot not own the fact tha tthe Laura Layby will always be the place as Thomas The Hardon would have known too, out of the mists - deep in Brexit ague and angst and all the other miseries.... and imaginary psychosoma that affect 'clinical outcomes'...
" the way every day as she came by...
" i mean no point telling her as no chavvy petit bourgeoisie understand the poetry
" But that is all human mere opinion, fact is simple: she alone did what none of the others could ever do...
" and thus there is only one url name for the next phase, how fool was I...
And i aint ferkin telling you, only one will know and she ca use it to racjk and ruin and not get my poetry, her problem.... or not. So be...it.
But many images soon from just ne day. High up in the hills all day. From the most perfect Homeric....
"and she scratched her bloody finger across the dark and my oh my talk about waking you up with a jolt to the absurdity in it all how just abov ethe Worst Journey in The World (all last winter) the most absurdly beautiful dawn ever seen ever and many countries and their dawns have been known and lived...."
to slightly paraphrase.
But even a shitty camera with even shittier sowftware cannot entirely fuck up such an extraordinary sight, and being ....
there. Only one otherplace in t'world i would rather be..
But had to be
there, then, to be here now, and where i need to
be
soon
(and having transfreed all of ones so called 'identities' to a shit tinny Lenovo the just as shit Dell, newer slightly less tinny, but certainly more crappy components dressed up as cool and robust .... when indeed they are designed to blow up with such reliable regularity..... i cannot even get the blogger spell checking redlinething to do its job - some ferkin setting one has to change even if one 'imports' ones synchronised 'identity'... quite necessary as the keyboard of a NEW Lenovo was so uttyerly disatrous it mnever worked properl;y and thus Lenovo'd slam [always no thought just type non stop] poetryish stuf always looks like its by an illkitaret Americam Supereme court judge (listen to Dell Bigbush boucing on his Highwire, and his episode 250 to hear just how utterly LOST to literacy they are not much shocks me butthat did)
..... nothing works ever one got used to that a decade ago...
Except one book, not quite written yet, even if its roots are in Taleb's superb ALLEGORICAL Black Swan and Yevgennias gorgeous and wise Whirlwind.
Oner simply cannot ever ever ever know the future - the societal stuff that harms you (that is 'you' you not me) or that which goes to make p when it it is simply impiossible every day, every single one constantly for years to be ... full of beans and ot ever ever ever let the bastards get you down, but in a non avtive way of 'letting' meaning..... non arrogantly rise above every single whisp of cant and vanity
good for me
But how to pay to live exactly like this every day always
Thats the key
ouldnt care less if i never find.
Because it is the lost key that makes life so much richer.
You simply never can know who you will bump into out ofthe blue
Then you get even better later on especially if you meant the Bernard.... question, answer.
And then get rightfully called a Lady....
why do stats or if we must 'analytics' say 84 clicks from Turkey well fuck off unless your dad is like Bircin* and you like the glorious film Tangerines, down the road ... i only wrote this for one, and it says just one peek from her land....
Well, that's better than none.
*5ish years ago and i do have a poignant picture of her lovely hair - early silvering... in time, the pictures will arive...in time.... I am yet a young enough person.
" so Bircin you know Muslim stuff is rather current so tell me ...i mean i know already you are magnificent ... so this area of Turkey your dad raised you, a little behind the times rather... you say the most fundamentalist region,.... so what was he like... ?"
" let me tell you a story. I was about fifteen and one evening my friends came round to pick me up and we were to go out into the night.... I came downstairs and my dad was sat in the lounge and he said.... ' Bircin.... you cannot under any circumstances go out dressed like that..... go up and change immediately..."
" ugghhh [ western white privileged slightly Enlightenment values look of i am so so so sorry you were even born you poor pitiable thing...]
"... you ASSUME !!!... shit up i havent finished, because he continued ' you have gorgeous knees so go and put on a shorter skirt that shows them off properly.... to the men... if their balls haven't been cut off by their damn elders that is...'..."
But, talk about the biggest "ohh my batteries ran out" in history, failure
To know that batteries do not decide to run out just like that.
Of their own
accord.
Nope, one - that is a human being known as 'one', must use that grey matter,
always.
And be ahead of the game which is no game it simply requires
care and knowing what good purpose is, even if it may indeed take
nearly fourty six years atop a hilltop in the sun all day, from
The most perfect break of day ever seen. Lived. Been
In
To now for sure there aqs Yvonne, and a younger lass called Bonnie.
And as for these Johnny come lately Italians, sorry a load of old men with modern gizmos, is the end.... of everything
And a half a million views says nothing
but a half a million sheep exist.
maybe she ran off to that perfect summer starting just around the corner.
"oh i was up there hadnt found it again a year and .... as i set up perfect peaceful spot ... notepads out, photos saved, rubbish left for another day....
appears an angel.....
[whatever the emojii is for " you mean little ole me, heyyyy..}
" a very beautiful angel i didn't say..."
(best bit a little after the tale recanted, to the rather lost man of 55 who always wants that little bristling ego fight...even he laughed...twas told with such true and unmistakable forever sunny energy on an icy day....)
'nother words, there is competition.
Blue ticks, at log last, are all very well, but what does she mean...? [emojii for: but she isn't Engish may just be possible to know...]
But back a few days, the beachcombing man, and his endless offence via bating me about dead badgers, cruelly bated by the creator..
Well, he got it in the screen today "you just practice man and to be used, as proof to her
I know exactly how to deal with hotties..."
Come back means i decided fresh New Year fresh you are ell ... something 2022, but i cannot decide, well i know... what it will be but being fairly good at poetical symbollox and what always was there in 1976 and is so gorgeously back once more.
I know what works.
But i also know that content, not working, when in a sane universe that stopped filling itself up with cant and vanity from about then, and it should work....
Is the best work.
I wish no reader nor viewer
oops that's a point i have been so too-much-happens....just like that I haven't looked
(and this man, the only man i know and have ever known, can read this... because it is impossible ever to offend someone with whom one has actual real love no matter what... what the fuck... and the lafter well.... there is only one place in the world which beats Bolivia for '"Lettie their national hobbies are eatin and larffin...lets run away now and who gives a ferk whether they require paperwork or not cos i have a secret weapon the way he looked at me as i told you ...i have told so many.... his eyes, the most beautiful image i have ever seen in my life by far, just a day after the actual most beautiful kiss, because i had the name of his hero ... ok with an SHhhh....". the way he looked down then up then down and then up and... " Sh*** [as Hardy would rit] .... welcome to....B**** " and unlike all your neighbours here who dont actually read the Guardian they just tell everyone they do.... . Letts... he fuckin meant it.... .. so for fatso there is a problem.... the problem is....
well it is like this, Missus farmer she even got a copy of the best love letter in history a few days back... referred top youtoo and your hotchocolatness which we could use to assist in her hot choc... because ok there is one thing, when the whole world is moaning about two things and we by pure accident actually DO something about number two,
George....
I mean we as we know could put The Guardian rightly out of business, with our '#response' to woke or whatever you want to call patronising folk of a different suntan level by pitying them when you fond why to love em for real and their hard points and then try to attack them viciously for eighteen months and...fail... because i had to i could not have you a fuckin w word attack me as you did and NEARLY get me... nearly..... so close you nearly had me with your first harassing texts....working on my vanity.... i mean no one has ever come close to such skill in having me....
But there is a problem... yestermorn at dawn i inadvertently tested her... my other best friend ever from their so called pestilence.
I mean there is no more ultimate test than to actually after all our last eighteen months see if she would come out from under her slight rock when i shared that " here this may make you laugh" .. the actual life of an actual eight year old.after her silence on my maybe 'oversharing' with her the best luv letter ever...
I though i had crossed the line. ...
And was preparing to walk away... not hurt because the year has been so absurdly healthy and her jokes simply unimaginably brutal and rude.... which you can get away with when your hubby is ten foot tall and well muscled...
But i didnt think she was our equal......
Nor, get the way we have refashioned friendship based on nuthing but pure no lives matter visceral attack between every Higgs particle of DNA ...get all the way into the core...all the way til the wheels fall off and burn [not me]....
So i told her about my real work and how i had offered to try and help ... them.... right up to The Commissioner...
when i have been engaged in also helping her eight year old these last eighteen months....
I thought she would remain silent... i had intruded and crossed that unknowable line....
But no Mister Sir Ali....
She... really is......
One
of ...
us...
'twas impossible.....
I mean you know as we've been tryin 18 months to figure the key to 'em....
and what to love them....for.....
Your Pastie-luv, you complain at her shopaholicism ... to her, face and she fights back.... and you both die of laughter - equals.... in war...
which we knows due to your mutual extreme security in bed and on holiday in someone elses all yer 'road' trips' where ...., is the answer, but.....
I mean it was totally impossible to test one inadvertently with that the true ultimate test of pain and sorrow ... true sad sorrow for a child whom may indeed as we speak be by some lone nutcase [we never will meet, censored for now] and being she knows and farmers dont lie, i could help...... and said so....
But within two lines of whatup she's makin... ferkin jokes again....
.... and after all that - a year or more of the framer woman, i was not errata on her either....
Even if the former has left my ticks not blue any more...
I mean quite seriously especially as i have my true king on tap.
"matey two brown men waffling on about your skint one [not copyright me as it was a typo but looks rather good and typos are allowed when you are typing outside at minus three] and they have their knickers in a twist on the 'p' 'w' and 'n' words i am lost....ONLY you can sort this now... you have a responsibility to humanity to stand up and be counted as the next Boris, we know after OUR last eighteen months...our brutal joust to the death...I told The Sprout of but she probably didnt read....flippin wimmin and digitals they think all is an attack.... I mean Lettie yestereve ....she knew the truth, the one and only divine truth.... a man, who picks up on a streetcorner in a dark town in the middle of nowhere...and she is over sixty.... she gets picked up only for one reason, ever, and that is.... just like me and you fatso .....
" pure.... total... every 'moment' in time, always....
" never perverted with cant vanity and your big fat builders belly,.....
" and bad ferkin taste in music with your Negresses..... fruckin Guardian approved load of crap.....
" no spirit. cos only Lettie had the spirit to want to talk on, more.....as we wandered up the dank and freaked little high st.... of dull shufflers....
" I mean picture it, all the rest hunched over their misery and existential angst... Letters and I ' luv.... you feel ten years younger there, too and they dont give a fuck about the metoos... cos the wimmin are in charge and they wander around at way before dawn with backpacks on their shoulders the size of Minis...and they are still laughing.....
" and.... [ i forget am i still texting my enemy here, doesn't matter because every word is true and we have copies of every word]...
"man... you get back to her Pastie pussy... because i met at last my match, and then... hung around on his streetcorner with his big one....
" i saw the most ridiculously poignant image imaginable...' man i can see four of them... her moons..' ... remember i told you about that horrid little Woodstock of the mindful tourist town theme park....where they stole even their most famous girl's telescope...i had bought her with my last penny, or ten thousand a decade and a half back.... well ok most technology moves on right up your brown arse, but..... man... he got it for eighty quid off ebay....
"man i just saw why.... i tolerated you for these last eighteen months of purest love imaginable.... out fight to the utter death of
"all cant and vanity and fake humility..
"and faker pity....
" and.... it is time now, you and me man.... we need to run away ...up there...it's so unimaginably fuckin beautiful .....
How to be too busy to actually get up the most poignant imaginable photos from a few months ago.
; as i diligently did the work:
"I really did yer on herrrrr...
\
" but yer on..... if i had the whole of his lifetime, and admittedly rather moaning skills, i could not get it - i mean all of it, into fifty albums plus all the outtakes, and other bits... at 199 bucks a set....
" i mean Letty yestereve, ' luv....i hear you can think for yerself..... i spied your genuine article the fifty p charity shop coat, when all the rest pay five hundred for one that looks like it came from a charity shop, my dear lady, this is zen and living in the moment they'll fleece you at fifty quid an hour to try and ..... luv my best machine somehow despite my ultra zen seemed to self destruct yeteraft....but you know what i havent had even one negative moment ....
But lasternight, hangin around on the streetcorner...
having as usual gotten diverted, I mean to seeTHAT - fuck me up it with the whole of the silent Tory front bench....
shakin their heads or pretending to care....
I mean paradise on the news at one, but....
Lettie, yes all very well, but then that......
Which of course will loop me back to the most poignant of image of all, because the so called nice place where they'll charge you seventy five quid for an hour of mindfulness, based on their image as the most beautiful wimmin who ever crawled across cut glass to pick up the pieces and resell them on their overpriced marketplace stalls....
But he got it: " hey...we were above all this..... mere humanity....all went silly anyway..... but....i have never seen anything quite so utterly gobsmackin as that and i do not do hyperbole...."
[battery went.... and it can go to hell as i need it no more... they can steal that ..too....]
phrases.
and then the rest espesh "no cricifix i aint lame...
" confuse me.... abuse me...."
oh what paradise in a poignant picture tow...
Two, at cold war undeclared (she knowing full well she has the arrestaility Trump cards to her flat chest....) so she won, already before she started...
That's an English woman for you...
And she is "complete" and did...
Thank you very much, spendd, now go away and pat your aesthetically fashionably pleasing new mutt on it's bottom, and that war is ver as of course two pathetic ageing human shaped sacs, of bacteria and other non human viral remnants etc - 90% actually... their so called feelngs are nothing, if not now 'complete'...
now to get back to my own rhythm, and own self, not even slightly wounded in battle and all good ones should only ever be a draw...
So did it work?
Did she listen to it? And realise she may have been a tad, Miss..... Under... Standing.... mine [if an English person writes 'mine' t is a soft sardonic nice thing or that's the intent...] rhythm and ... being.?
that one got so distracted in the doodling at by even sublimer things, i clean forgot (now here) what it started being 'about' even if it hasn't changed one jot, since April 2020...
And i don't waste money on urls even if theyre only a tenner via Oggle as i know full well digital dystopias fail ever to elicit any human anything...
So it is only just for 'fun' ... (and one person who sadly, well.... who knows... that's what the poignant imagery is really about, but not telling, ever... except maybe i will share face to face one day with one person only ever ...)
And them, having now 'merged ' - well sort of.
And me never having bothered to even figure what the ferk a hashtag does never mind bother PRing mineself via one....
Because all you needed ever was in one, song....
The way it begins like a gentle waterfall into, all that ever mattered, is and always will be ....
An image of such perfection of what a malarkey it all is....
And always will be.....
So, unlike an English woman, maybe a wise woman may just.... change her
Mind....
sickness abounding or not...
And i changed mine, as number three was sure to
be
off-grid2022
so as to shoot that dreadful load of moaing bullshit called Nomadland out of the water where it belongs, burn it on the campfire
if reality
Because nomading around as one fine farmer woman knows, make one happy ...
but off-gtid2022 ... hmmm...
then i had another idea, melow2022 which si a very woke super bbc compliant sort of dodgy mindfulness manual conclusion ... noone in Enland trusts any words as they know divine and universals like H A only use them for profit these days, despite her humble motor...
so, it came to me what really really des one want? keep it simple....
even if (you could not make this up wen i put up that picture, there, where you wont find it.... it sums up ...life.... you cannot make it up - the ironies, the dichotomies, the impossibilities of knowing anything, next)
And indeed it is the best word, for 2022dotcom
But it is reserved, for only one person, whom indeed has made me... do
IT
responding, perhaps? ... so colourfully, late last to
By far the most beautiful of them all, except for her of course.....
I mean how can so much happen already in the middle of nowhere....
A non-life
In the so called 'new' year... neigh from the eve, of.
In nowhere in fact worse than nowhere only surrounded by a few fascists, lite...
Spesh her yesteraft
Perhaps it was the smile I had planned for her.
But i clean forgot that 'post' that bubbled up yesteraft as the light was going...
oh yes it's come back now.
(Too Late the real hymn, on...)
But it has 'gone' now....
The original raw visceral version.
Plus my finger is cracked.
Again....
Imagine a lunatic wandering around the pathways of a very large churchyard....all those dead peeps in the ground...
smiling to himself with his fairly cheap Sony raggedy headset on...
Raggedy from use (the Bang and Olufsen turning out to be yet another hyped fraud)
Road testing the songs...
This is an image though.
Though not of the 'poignant' series.
Because too much that has nothing whatsoever to do with the saddest imagery it is possible ever in history to present
You...
(that the farmer knows of...my glorious covid friend.. and she is married to 'Godzilla' and thus can be even saucier than. I... back... in fact she fuckin started it hahh hahhh...)
Anyway the image is coming.
"Abuse" me.... she bloody well did since about May 2020...
(you now have to actually have the song on LOUD ...in fairly good quality head...fones..)
Because she knows - there is a rhythm....
So there i am....
Washing my muddy Crocs....
(image comming up)
" hmm thoughtbubble,
" number one snotty bitch [ many times on radio 4 with her bad gardening books..]
" i mean twenty years ago she was mine and lass's friend.... and admirer....
" how a little sniffle can come along and give a woman of a certain age a neon jacket and flip how THE GREAT book can come true, Florenca's They Would Never Hurt....
" abuse is an understatement for the dagger looks she gave me all last year me suggesting to folk in the Spar queue it was a good opportunity to learn new jokes and make new friends...just be new....
" I mean just this aft i was saying to him, the rather sad live in vehicle man with his gorgeous new buy he should be so happy about its LURRVVLEEE , ' god you weren't here spring of the glorious year of the slowdown and stare...at all the gorgeous wimmin in the queues........ if a certain woman H****** A***** (as Hardy would write) heard me even now saying the facts to you she would call the feds and try for immediate arrest as i smiled at her last year... and of course she knows we were RIGHT.....to have smiled and lived on... and a woman of a certain age hates nothing more than a chap to be ...right... ' hahh fuckem but really the way i saw her turn on a dime from once a bit ok to a raving Auschwitz warden.... ' .....
" but here we were,.....
"middle o nowhere she pulls up and she sees...
"me too...
"and she knows i shall not react, not even acknowledge her ... fear of arrest or .... playing her game....
" ....and..
"no ...what a tart i mean....
" all that effort she put into last year never meeting my gaze and...
" ... that expensive new do she has bet thats a bitch too ....
"not that i ever use the b word as its not nice..
" but cmon
"whats she on...?
In fact go back a few hours (in my sick mind tm The roches )
"because i know that she is the personification, of monetisation, of the above
"discombobulation, from reality, as she's a vicious abusing of me, you hardnosed b...
"so be it.... she is entitled to be what she wishes even if she hates me alone for seeing through her....image...
" but...
" ... her and i alone, miles from anywhere separated by only 5 metres of hardcore and she knows her new image last year, the expensive sit up and beg bicycle, and fancy new hairdo pretending to be au naturelle, when ....
" she now deserves me bothering to passively stalk her and place myself here with some nice tunes on awaiting her return from her walk to keep it has to be said in rather good nick for her rather ageing age....
" because that...
"smile....
"what a saucy thing she is... i rather like her very humble #car too
" hmmm...
fast forward half an hour to the tap by the many dead people rotting...
[ultrathoughtbubble "i bet she is watching me from the thicket...why not that's what weirdo rural lonely folk do, always have done, and always will... this should impress her anyway bout time i get this mud off a month been too busy with bizxarrely new stuff to bother.... bet she will notice the way i scrub them with such organised poise and grace....me not on drugs like the rest of em and quite rightly women should fear them..... ]
fast forward a few seconds, that slight upper turn of the body and something comes up from the rear, the unexpected quarter...
" ugghhhh .... ehhhhhhh... bleedin eck you shocked me i really thought it was a ghost... you emerging from the region of the tombs....like that
she smiles.... and maches on, my way...
" looking so utterly an image of a absurdly most beautiful angelic ghost....you and you gorgeous mutt.... the light behind you.... i really am in shock.. truly poignant image you made coming up on me like that....He**na..."
" i thought you were one too..[ even bigger smile]"
So what... though i bet she considered coming back as she drove off smiling again.... I proudly made sure i didn't see.
History.
But there is no such thing.
All moments from all of time live on as they should in these times of diversity politics; ALL moments are equal, and even long past ones are entitled to their right to be equally valued in the now, present.
Road testing for one last time, marching up and down the pathway just half an hour earlier the most absurdly radiant image had crept up behind, and dont she ferkin know it....
she had the choice to take a diferent pathway.
In other words a 22 months of hate crime, from her... my way cos someone paid to be nice to folk who is such a top class radio 4 approved snotty bitch when she is so inhuman despite me being the only person always smiling always....
she
just a ..
chimera...
But someone wrote a song about her, once....
And she is entitled to know she is the last line...
So superb a last line ever and so be it ....her choice...
A magnificent loud noisy end to ...
The most poignantly fuckin ultra sublime happy period a man could ever have that started about two years ago...
marching as the light is falling the middle of nowhere just me and the old jalopy...
headphones on...
" i always knew that as well as the superb wrdification as good as The Noble Bard.... sorry Mister Hooky....
" simplicity.....
" 'abuse me!' as the snotty bee did all last year the year of [her] fear.....
" hahhh hahhh she met me here at the gate... unlocked...
" i now..... she knows..... she knew.... despite HERRR.. becoming herr fuerer fuckin bossocracy personified...
" corner of my eye i would sill notice...' looks good in that new Barbour... her crappy Madame Bovary lite books buy for her...'...
" silly cow i mean....who does she think she is... but she looks quite tasty these days....
and at a gate, at dusk, no hesitation...
"But it was as i bet she even planned, these bbc babes sure now how to make an entrance, the image...
"And how 22 months of hate crime can dissolve into, a radiant smile as soon as bitch number 1, hears the word....
'bootiful...
" ... louder.... paradise is... here and now.... i won..... and she did too because she knows her real job was to be....
" and it will always be our secret now...
" the personification of i do think the greatest of all songs much road tested these last few years...
the bubbling song, freshened up a tad and given to us free on 21 July in the most paradise year in history, reprised..:
except google blogger blog link builder is so so bad they cannot even give you the result at 'my end' so that i can put up the thing on youtube owned by them.... there is no hope...
there is only what works, and what does not..... and i know someone who knows exactly what works...worked.... and what her work is.... in the last line of. And how she likes to be actually appreciated for the work she actually likes
