The psychology of simplest living, via my stories of many years truly simplest living. Real ones - not earnest or pious.
Ten years a landloper. Time to tell those tales, too.
Ralphschism.com My permanent one home online started 22 feb 2023.
Start at the beginning (first 'post' - click 'older posts' bottom right hand corner ). Themes are developed and then woven together - a series of regular essays. Some in handwriting; some audio/vid.
ONLY peaceful nice content here. 07958 5263eight1
" well yea i dont believe in anyone much but i guess as YOU mentioned Soccers maybe had a bit of it right but not all of it.. two folk encounter each other natter and via some too-big-word dialectic method three is created... so write it down... yet again i am impressed that you recall our earlier chat when everyone else one may as well be pissin into the wind.... "
As discovered in the solo dialectical methodology that beats (oops ... SAbine on why McGilchrist is a fat whisky addled loser believeing in adequate science as always perverted by holy vests and their interests..in never picking holes in theior own mefodology.... as Lewonitin so beautifully informed in Doctrine...rippin you off for a hundred quid for his made up book..
LINK!!!!!!!!!!! soon)
Soccer's sham version....
Other Peoples Jobs... to write soon, and this lot would think they get a mention, mere amateurs beyond comprehension
in a place where they never stop to think..never mind landlope.com
They have nothing on, them..
as the audios yesters i think said making too many just in case
" ten quid an hour to merely shovel your shit...or rebuild your fences [ you could do yourselves, i'm no expert or anything special, i just stop and think, and then shitshovel, as a splendid one i see has rebuilt her own]
" but twenty quid [ this is old money, late 10's prices before the fuel prices went up and terrified into headlight lit bunny's eyes syndrome, poor old lonely things figuring how they can afford the gas or insurance all that 'living my best solo life' maybe wasnt quite the best policy...never mind who may come knock knockin on their door or head,...if they live their best life alone up in the hills.... ] if i have to listen to you moan about him outdoors .. and your marital problems..."
But them.. even if The Cornish gibber i think must get a mention, having given me the best word about herself so farmers lassish... and on the spirituals and dodgy drugstoo...
behind her bouncy smile...
otherwise they're all too-busy amateurs here, As against the Queen and her beardy king....
scene: with my rare gift to self, new bluetooth headphones twenty quid.... all morning in paradise digging her huge pile of horsehit for her really rather ignored very hilltop roses for years [ one can always tell i mean if nobody has fed them a decade its obvious that the 'perfect couple' ..aren't....but i don't judge i just DO..the job]
very much enjoying the twoface song half the day...
and then as the day goes on he comes along and mandominates via his ridiculous shiny not very muddy, newish, mandigger....
you could have no funnier a scene as the local (presteigne) most super abundant community-beardy always there at all the gatherings of the 'beautiful people' with his charity neon jacket and begging bowl..
super 'green' entrepreneurial operation in the hills ripping them off 150 quid a workshop, of a day at best...leasrning nothing but how charmy-beardy he is in his tailored trendy workwear and chopper
Anyway her and i had consensus as to where TIME AND MOTION - me caring, for her every second on the paid job, in her silk purse, even if she has to change her clothes thrice a day - one outfit for the morning yoga guru grit, a second for cooking lunch and a third for coming outdoors and titillating her slave... as we would both enjoy ..her act.. rather than just wheeling the barrow perraps that may have been better exercise than the compulsory morning yoga sessions with the guru.. a long drive away...
But nevertheless the real farmer or slave loyal to his mistress plots the best usage of his limited energy - her having vamped a fair bit just for fun.. REGARDLESS of her...
" best place is i wheelbarrow it in from down the hill ... is exactly there so as that main pil;e will serve as efficient repository and then a smaller portion goes there... that pile for that one there.... then max efficiency distributing it with minimum distance and ruts to climb over there there and there... great ...we are a team..."
extremely efficient usage of her man's time and every motion planned in advance for her pocket.... indeed against ones own best interests in saving at least half the time on the job if not carefully aforethought through...
And then along comes mister fancy green machine (having hidden away all day until now likely addicted to phone porn in his 'coppiced' woods, as half of em are...) and... no.... never mind having not bothered to fertilise their roses for years despite their lie " we are stewards of our lovely gardens" usual horseshit...
he cannot listen to the polite man and his plans, on the job he has been on a few days....
.....and no must get his digger pile of the last lot...
there, exactly where both Mistress and slave had agreed... is the LEAST efficient place to place it
and the .... rumpus caused me to do what i never do...loose something in the emotional rumpus (and superb material i am trying to record in my minds eye as to the whole con of all of them) on the floor and ...
never again find them, buried in muck
he of course never had the humanity to assist in the search for a little later on
fabulous chapter any sane publisher would snigger at
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
what !!??!! CHAKKA, has taste as GOOD as CHAKKA... even if theyre fake and proves she is real, her disc one thats not very compulsory sisterhood or brotherhood
AND ..is a FARMER
god thats it the greatest conceivable smug limey mistake in life ever..it was .. "is" ... could have been
and couldv been... " limey i think i like you....you can touch them if you want...
"document" to quote a dreadful Anglophone and his dead language that sums up the whole snotty scroffulism and why anyone muso expert should be sent to the camping ground with
Ivan .
i searched the docs and know which is the only testament he must die listenin' to ...
as it takes us right back to where Anik was sat.... deciding what she should do...
but sadly didn't do it all the way......and save him from the chipfat
back home.....
never mind the one great writer, for his age.... to manage that greatest ever wordplay
neigh proof of some wonky otherforce
whilst his only ever fey
contemporaries up the road
could only ever flog a dead rustled horse
of hey Jules .... guaranteeing his early hearse
too
but my AI aint trickin me into thinkin it knows me
as i keep two versions
entirely airgapped so as to avoid its perversions
of the language the learnins
and my non earnins...
last one very updated ...for the 700+ so called readers already poked their nosey scrooge noses in already today i cant keep up...
what you are missing is in today's audios... those have no 'stats' so i wont even be able to tell if you cock your wrinkled old noses at thosetoo ... or use them as users do...
without giving anything back....
which is always the only real rocket fuel there is....
that's dedication to my actually beloved so called readership....
Her.... " bugger off muster i can have my babies AND make a record, multitaskually ...too..."
Sometimes it has pure gold......
"sidekick..[i NEED ONE] ....get on the troll, to babes hour....! .... Jenni tried to imply-lie that Saint Joan was her guiding rusty diamond so fake gushingly ..... and she didn't spit back at the usual Britolined old hag pretendin..
Joan Baez on why Bob Dylan didn't get involved with her activism
(cos he was a fey user, whereas the REAL 'activist' even marries one of her kind in the slammer so she cant even have her nuptials...no English would even understandyou go ALL the way or you ain't... babe...) https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p05zx8x5
"this one however ...takes NO prisoners..... and was tellin me to grab these !!... indeed i hope she mentions just how prejudiced the English are behind they feyboy effete drunken leers...
"
errata wrong Roughie... being my hobby for all the 80s was factchecking almost every bar and cafe...
And 99% of reviews were fabulously accurate about atmosphere, smiles, real music, AFFORDABLE decent grub...
And best corner of the cafe to meet some 'locals'...
oops on desktop, sadly realising ALL artistes just take the piss...
The one and only piece of art that actually had me mesmerised...OWNED my soul
(i actually bought for twenty quid Deecember 2022 however... when the ultimate gibber/illusionista ripped me off for the bus fayre - rather spending it on her fine son's £7 comic with a promise of immediate refiund - her being THE 'spiritual' Queen of Hay-on-Wye.... the greatest ever example of how every single one a conperson....
last bean needed to go and collect it after the exhibition was finito....
i didn't mind for me that I failed to honour my pledge, as my excuse was sublime and perfect and great future material...... i do mind that he the impoverished Indian photographer who took this great art picture...didnt get his quid after the local so called 'charity' have taken their ferkin greedy nineteen to pay for their admin and fancy equipment
Anyway..99% of Rough Guide material perfect...my hobby to check... flaneur around every backest ally and see what they may have missed...
and they really managed to get it right - ' if you are a reasonably humble meanderer just needing a 'real' place to stop and read a book over a coffee we recommend x or y...' 'back in the day' when there was just love, for THE INFORMATION being accurate.. true humanity
Except here.... i made it there first - before them pictured below even if i am sure they are ruined nowadays, into the true soul of this very best Former Sovplace.... because 'it' - the whole notion one can tour any place and know anything much beyond best coffee spots.. really is all a bit trite...
Never mind having to work with them to know them, you have to know and indeed love the locals ... whom you are perhaps going to put into your pages..
And the first time i ever saw her Yugoslav face...
I just knew... she isn't in their guide book.. as she would take a whole five volumes of War and Peace to describe, justly..... and i was right.
But nobody will write that.
Which is merely prostitution - using the 'exotic' as refection of your own bland nothingness... to spice up your ..dead soul ... especially if British
ahh yes i gotta get back to that Serbian priest i bet i can find him
" ahahh i think thats the very brief keep them coming version done from yesterdays digital diarrhea....all complete... bloody well done keeping on top of the 'now' whist revving up to deep dive a bit backwards... and i see a whole sidetopcic of the weave - all just one dull tapestry, entirely omitted... damn ad as usual loads of views come quickly i should ignore their talons but i like to do then forget ..."
as aide memoire
why is your black rabbit really dead... indeed never was alive...
HER... being such a fake - and she is the one who maybe will have more emotional input into damaged child links.... than almost any other
a pure prostitute... some would call evil
unless my missive went to spam..i do take great care to attempt to ensure doesnt happen...
she in here (AUDIO) is using you... merely for adrev..
a real 'homeless' person can't even attract that as they require an address...
I would never even wish in this country populated by the worst ever users...she represents, sorry, sad but true.... if i were a girly i would be ashamed, especially of...herrrr....
now.. long ago (2020 indeed) 'gonzo advertising' i invented at great length in my notepads out that spring summer every day in the sun...
(and i have recently shared it with a very very much enjoyed very gay man from LA ad land - one man i have enjoyed bantering with, the ONLY one for years, whilst i sweated and groaned.. and pumped topless to tease him....
taking great care of his Mistresses' lands...
... sadly too young even age 45ish to appreciate actually it IS timely... thAT NO ONE CAN EVER BE TRUSTED I MEAN mISTER 'tREWS' QUITE A GOOD EXAMPLE A DECADE HE WAFFLES ON ABOUT AUTONOMY OR WHATEVER AND THEN RUNS AWAY TO THE 'CHURCH'... OOPS ACC CAP... NO TIME TO DE CAP
anyway just in case...
I have to admit that my 50km a week week in week out has been rather special here..
mainly cos the ehh ...well back in THE day one could depend on the superb Rough Guides...
another exemplar of the die the musac died..
Me my always present book travelling companion from the early 80s, as well as the Ruskies.. frogs and even some English writers in the lonely life of an ACTUAL 'adventurer' - i shall come back to her in a bit as its THE crux of all million words...
But you just knew as soon as Lonely Planet became a competitor 'travel guide' it was the End Times.
RG always told ALL the truth... if i worked for them now i would have a job describing " well..all the tourist tropes say 'THE WALKING centre of something or other..' but don't tell any walkers, we wandered the hills around and about their gateway walker towns and nobody was ever seen...walking.. or driving out for lovely balmy picnix...in the breezy hills..... . fucking HEAVEN on earth..."
Whereas LP gave this university graduate version of travelling off the beaten path - fake... Utter bourgeois " well you may consider taking a whole water purifying plant with you if you venture into those hills.." and also gave truly duff nightlife info basically where fake underclass people would come and show off their tattoos if it were nowadays..
whereas old school real people knew tattoos were so ugly and just a waste of travelling cash....
but neither would dare Utterly spear all travel or most of it.... and give real reason as to why...
CONTENT SUMMARY OF THREE AUDIOS but earlier ones are far far more arty and deep
Now..in this 'episode' which is just the same dull old funstuff for years.. how the very sad fakes came and invaded the Uplands - the fringe lands above about 200m where the catchment of the 'environment' lives and even 'famous' academics plagiarised it (for cash) far far more than any poor dead otherpeopled person...
And how the land died due relationship dying due Tolle and his like making everyone too fussy...
why they are SO SO lonely and unhappy all over in their dream retirements...
and all that
But far more root of the broken branches, how almost all British i have ever had the displeasure of objectively monitoring, from aside, really do bugger up their kids as a justifiably famous Serb said " we would watch on our telly just how dodgy youse all were..." not my words.
POST NOT READY TIL 0800
anyway i always used to quite like the latest politics of THEIR 'religions' but the vile BBC are vile for only one reason one started to notice 15 years ago they set up their website of course so its almost impossible to even copy and paste the titles of their programs into ones pamphlet operation which i began sixteen years ago I am no Johnny came a few weeks back...
And i DO get it how the pretend whiteman - its always the men... are so covetous of even their Rupert (private schoolboy) words they guardrail their (95%) awful beeb sites..
and then even made it not possible to spread among the non immos - those far too sane to ever come to so called England even for the far more kinky-pervy-exotic brand of hookers london is crammed full of than anywhere else in europe...
i was always with the sane Former sovs and their GREAT art
so interesting even if long ago i met the first of these new brand of younger hip male 'social' religious types who have the ULTIMATE spin operation about even...
The Homeless....
Now as in 2013 with a splendid very sweet female sidekick we - her really....went undercover in a truly brilliant unsexist modern update edition of Orwell and His Down and Out...among the 'churches together' feeding the tramps of Horrorfordshire..
what was so fascinating was how every tramp meal they made it about THEM... their piety their vampiric talons....
when 'charity' for the tramps is meant to me non denominational....
A FREE lunch..or in fact dinner at teatime...
Every single one of their 'volunteers' the most emotionally vandalising user imaginable...
using THEIR position ..
behind the counter, with the spoon.... so as to decide who may get their charity and whom maybe not so...
which harms the tramp class in more ways than one - to have to PRETEND to like and agree with some ladle wielding patronising, liar... is far worse than ...
to be cont
but its the BLOKES - these fast talking blokes of the new religions who are Glastonbury PR trained and so ultra smiley i still remember well the first i met 2020...and his so so smiley narcissistic me alone i have the true way, bullshit "eschatological" waffle..
basically be a junky for a while, get on some programme by sucking up to some less groovy priestly type... get REALLY De Botty ish with your trendy fast talk... that sounds so so Glasto guy smoothe talk..
and youtoo get on the wireless..on Sunday..
ALL they actually care about, just like the fake eco 'activists' of The wye Valley.. getting their five minutes in the sun...
OOPS THERE IS AN IMPORTANT BIT MISSING FROM HERE, here by 0900
He not only listens, but my my he really does have the finest mind.
In fact he alone is a true work of 'art'.
Anyway the land...
Now i know, to the Lowlander, suburban drifter inner... this is a sop, a trope... something not really understood, nor actually enjoyed, even if by default preached as their journey's end. Which is not quite the right usage of sop/trope unless the real context is entirely storyfied..
Which is all i care about as it's more thrilling than Tolstoy's Resurrection (minus the last 2 pages as he also agrees) or Rachel Cusk's (only good writer in UK this century even if a splendid half breed) fabulous efforts to describe it all... and rightly leave the reader a bit unsatisfied neigh even baffled, as she knows it's almost indescribable..
But ten out of ten for attempting
I know i have eleven in my chronicles...
Ohh yes that loser and shirker Odysseus with his mere twenty year camper van trip... and pandering to the horsey fans...
And all that... he needs a challenger. Who may manage maybe even twenty five or so.... I do love my Oddessay to
absolutely NOwhere... and got there.
But back to the rest...i mean for years i really do quite enjoy the weekly dose of the mainly Abrahamic hippos and was genuinely sad that Edward Stourton 'passed' - my my how that is becoming the latest sop word for died, dead parroted, kicked count Buckethead permanently, probably of being in an office for far too much of the week.. as being outdoors all i care about keeps you staistically alive longer...
Anyway switching on and even hearing that one department of the same Abrahamic one are now wordcriming another office department next door in the same building of the People of The Book
department
(he loved my garden allegory - " i had a vision as if i am the prophet of all prophets, not for profit.... about a decade ago... my old yard just sitting pondering why all religious twats seem to dislike other religious twats.... and almost deny other departments exist!.. which does make me truly sad and i don't understand how bleak they are... 7th days decry the majority who worship sundays...etc.... so i was sat on my old sofachair with all the lovely natural weed-plants left and tended, one weedplant has that species of insects buzzin around it, the next plant a different species etc... and the plants need the insects to pollenate and give it a reason to even exist....so in reality each plant is an almost separate ecosystem evolved hand in glove ... all these different quite separate independent ecosystems in my old yard garden.... not really at all involved with each other....just being.... equally now ...
[ohh splendid even if not a summery one with all the summer 'weeds' towering here and there this, to desktop-hand, one of millions, has far deeper double entenders, soon]
"so yes... none of these plants - my parable for dodgy religions, are special or unique they're all just dotted about and a bit dotty in their ownness...
" and has happened after years of enjoying them, a baddie may just come and roundup em all to death.... but actually as i wouldnt even wish a butterfly pinching a bit of each sour and soulless nectarine flower ... any harm that wasn't part of it,...but maybe could be...I'm with you... slash and burn them all on your Youtube channel.... as you alone thrill me with your amazing intelligence Mister eco immo ..... from very Bongo bongo...")
Anyway one desk of the People of The Book office now running to Miss, or more likely Mister in that sexist pigtrough, and telling tales about hurty words of the next desk doing the same scam.... ... i just LOVE The Sunday Programme... as it's some - just a little, of my most serene sublime homework... usually.
Unplanned, on this planet and astrocycle of cosmic bullshit, or the next door....
" if i tame ..HER....do i get a cup at your show...? cmonnnn.... answer.... "
But that's the epilogeue or is it periep.... (even hearing several moans about their popular peri-one of late.. live.... in action gee whizz get with the program evena few middle age ers not quite trained have admitted all a load of hot air, and rather borin'.... )
Now what's important, is that twenny years ago it started with a man even he can hardly be called one slitherin' around in his black Range Rover..
"i sat all weekend parked by the very penthouse yurts..
thinkin'...how can i havetoo some of their precious...paydirt" (real bleatin'
of a poor bloke ex Eatin... or one of them)
"and get my second home put down as a business expense..."
anyway who said 'whisper' in this one gone....
Ohh yes one who made me think of poor Nanci my favourite quietitude who faked it all her too short life she was wholesome and plenished inside and yet was so angry fuckedup bitter she died young of it
to drown out far more than a whisper....
oops wrong song google is such a deviant h
Harrisser sticking other stuff it wants to pimp in
i so need to go to Europe, to compare...
there we go as (SHE said! not me i wouldn't be so so cynical and hopeful there isn't one who could prove her wrong " yet another childless woman of The Roseland emotionally vandalising the community as she's nothin' else to do..")
anyway the ok "savant" black man got me, yester four fourty five..
" I lived for a while just a while as they were so ridiculously boring its daft ...anmong the pukka rastamen of the Carribes.... my religion creed and transcendental diving right is to never ever pay a penny for anything ever unless i must...
and really one should sue her estate if she didn't piss it away with her dried up crocodile lack of tears
but forget all other forms of entertainment as surely..if i can do THIS.... (to be cont)
..oh well that was going too well...
start again
an "object" has failed
yankospeaking, nothing
now.. time to get profound. VERY...
Ultimately.
So ... where was I..twenny years ago
oh yes i wish no male readership ever as its only about what goes into the guss...
And you can't buy or switch them...
And only one man ever managed to get his wicked way into even the most toffy-nose snifftered one...
even if the estianddad decade on version i took the trouble to put up but god knows what taste Oggle has as it's lost it...
is better, as it has the clicks in the rather well used lp 'present' and each one has a whole valley of history innit...
right now i am just treading water
roy drownin out the laughter
durin the double backup..one hidden up in them hills.
(ohh i must do my movie of the MArch 2018 double back, up... high in a treetop..no kiddin)
of this sick land in disguise, prtendin' it's superiority
So often said, does it penetrate even the Russian fine head
"I shall simplify neigh precis in one para, your mistakenly adopted land: twenny eleven
Intouchables, rich paraplegic man, living a life of only pain
has earsex, and goes on to breed even more...
Jojo's Me Before, five years later
same plot; and her handsome hero, even doting paid-friend carer love
off to Zurich, and we all know he's one way, of course 'drecly to heaven
no longer possible to monetise a live on story"
oops tangent...even if said so many times...
HER equal once ... in purest artful musicality
someone kept bouncin' and stompin' away.
The English, even 2020net not-datin' me
so sniffily
younger in fact than the bouncy old thing
can only rehash, baleful and weirdly
even "thankfully" online a long gone equal superiority.
Rather than still be
what's not in the genes but is simply, real spirituality
(and i hate drum and bass, but then as with local sunglasses, of thisterweek, her of " i float above"
some things can be ignored if whats behind them is ... artistic, actually interesting, honest, slightly slutty, truth talkin', intherapeuticalisable, sanity)
Right that's the end.... only the nature section, now.... the real unadventurist, version....
person behind even galleries one has to go a trudgin'
authentix must be one hundred percent regardless of effnix....
Even if (its impossible talkin with ANY of the butterflies for them to even take in just a smallest segment of your 'story' and just decent-human memorise
like i saw him again the bird lad of millionaires row..
And showed his mum the rare moth seen a few days ago
" i think you should keep a journal of this very street,
a few degrees plus in heat..
[even if more ways than one..] South facing cauldron of sweat and tears
mine only of joy, no fears"
she knows whom, alone took her lad just a little under the, i assume dadless, wing
Anyway how many times does ione have to say to the 'chem trail' or other lost and loony brigade..
"I adored every second of twenty ten once the first few weeks of worryin' only about one...
AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN EVEN HAPPIER IF LOCKDOWN AND OUT HAD CARRIED ON FOREVER.....
true stoppage time and time to cycle the lanes chattin' up all and sundry strays...
indeed a great 'filter'.. those majority locked themselves away
day after day
even in my actual wilderness rural region...
committing human treason
(especially on their kids, so often seen, even there)
no wish to converse, chat
"Bojo just said on even Radio one....
its a new law, meet someone..
in a country lane its now MANDATORY
to stop..and share a little of your real life story"
actually worked...
Anyway... the neuro Di-splurgent filtered out
and only the freebirds out and about
But who was it who broke the embargo?
Unlike Moanin' Eric (Clapped out has been God)
or even ranty Van-the-so-called-man
" fusck this for a gameof tin soldiers
lanyard clad, gone mad
MY PEEPS...need me.... face to face, unmasked, real bouncin' WOMAN"
Gathered.... together.... in a room
despite being rather chubbily, high risk.....
Aint Nobody.....
which one just knows....won't be on the list of BBC questions...
they can't think in even two dimensions.
Someone other had other ideas....
with an actual mindful of life between her ears....
Never mind some Thin White Filanderous Duke of nothing decent and monogamous for even five ferkin minutes....
Even if with a surname like Louise Le GeeGee she would perraps have some heritage that gave access to a sane continent, of The King of it all....
And i still haven't got to the perfect page like Thommy did on photos... pissin' on every family snap, exactly.... her sat next so i could smell the chalk on her plimsoles and see the bead of one small sweat dribble down her front...
As she didn't need to say her lament
At being his prostitute, for rent,
and tax deductabletoo
I could still do with her phone number, even if about thirty five years too late
(mind you that "psychadelix" one, for a '75 junky, still looks quite funky...)
But I'm sorry.
Never mind (to use their rediculous sillyage vernacular, 'the sliding doors' moment of a lifetime)
...ohh emmm god... almighty
this crap, lifeless soulless so called inheritor of GODs ferkin ability to be floatin above any fake actual god...
Put on a fancy hat and have some fancy knobs, and no heart and you get the reason even the other lot dont want to live any more...
sorry about that even if butterflyitis is the scourge of a whole century, so back to gussets...
The moment.... when life changed and one had to admit there was a little more to taking it all seriously
And they say 'don't meet your heroes..'
Fuckin bullshit if you know who are the only two worthy of that nom de plume..
And watch em up close....
Fair dinkum you have to be able to afford a ticket to Ronnie's or hustle your way in i have no recall of how...
and ok a decade younger, but still.... in that dark dungeony place... mainly inhabited by Ill sNotty lasses, secretaries to the gentry or even
MAurice Saatchis...
The kind who can NEVER ever moved, shaken, stirred...
To have seen the way how only one man ever had every single one trans-fixated
not debate
no quarter, no half measures...
Every single one needing not a milliamp
of electricity to get em damp
i bet even quite old, no booze or drugs,
he could still have had em weeping tears of pure gussjuice all over mummy's rugs
(unlike Mister Zimmerman and his "mummy's drugs" i do NOT plagiarise if i am even slightly so called poet adjacent it is quite obvious)
furthermore even if i can insta-poet rap or whatever the word, to open the lid literally 10 mins of battery left and one small thing to look up
a whole stupid splurge happens not a second to think
or even blink
(i cannot lie)
i have been crystal clear
as a Totness fake i can smell 'em near
especially here (DESPITE the great book selling rather well
in this version of a far more interesting kind of hell)
yes, POETRY DOES NOT WORK...ever...
Anyway back to doors...in she stumbles...
Just the two of us sat somewhat drunk and depressed at that Mid Manhattan really shit winter Monday evening bar
(MY adventuring 99% only into rural escape
all cities just a divine joke - mistake)
Now.... having already had a snippet,
even if by now gettin a tad rancid
" and he said...and i said...well fuck you i shall have my babies AND be the REAL Queen of soul concurrently thank you very much now crAWL BACK UNDER A STEAMIN' MADHATTED MANHOLE YOU HORRID RAT "
OOPS ACCIDENTAL CAP NO TIME TO ADJUST EVEN IF IT WAS THE ONE AND ONLY REAL BABE OF THE CENTURY TALIKN
EHH ERRATA...
Last century... and thistoo she's still got attitude even now...
in fact i do hope they have her on Babes Hour too....
Where she'll blow their very very sensitive fuse
" i got nowt to moan about.... babies and bein' a superbabe concurrently too.....
" and even around this time drunkedly wanderin in fact near crawlin into some awful Monday early mornin bar i shouldnt even be on your vile BBC
...cos this arrogant cunt of a limey...
not only did i bare my fulsome ones,
ask him to dance..... but i did just for him and his neighbour fallen asleep...
I am entitled to .....ehhhh even if its so much better for the actual consciousness to merely remember... just how atrocious white supremacist academe is in ....
( i can now define it, fully, even if anyone with a brain thirty years ago knew to avoid the dumbed down bullneck bovva
boy aisle so perfectly exemplified by AC Grayling so called superbrain pofessor
at their penthouse Towers if rotten ivory
of all that is modern and enlightened....
couldnt even be bothered
to read up, on better books
that poke supremest literary fun....
At him.... and his kind
That neither Oxenford nor the bridge over the Cam ... have ever heard of
So said he into my journalistic fun facts device
When the European minds knew decades ago it really was the greatest of ...well, since about that last war ..
And it aint about anything else except holding him up to scrutiny ...
but thats not interesting in the land that cannot stop butterflying around
what is, is perfect example of the exact opposite of adventuring is the only way to live...
and nowt to do with the environment
which i only include
to turn everyone away, without being so rude
as to say bugger off go away
as quite clearly there never was any point
I know why... its all rather rancid old meat in this gin joint ...
It is not hard to clarify what no so called ' therapist' can even really know.
three years of London Oxfordshire most of the Home Counties comes to play .
In Swestershire infact her clientelle-on-sea
not one ever...ever ever
seems to ever even think, "gosh ' healing' my por traumatised/abused/ divergent soul ...[ pick whatevers the latest fashion] would be 100% drug free ..
never mind nothing recreational
which includes the almost compulsory
" psychadelix"
they dont even know the opiates, sleepin stuff...Youessay movie popularised xanax
all of em ... 90 percent some form or other of them they need to ....
i still dont know what
i have every reason to blot out, even at times inwardly soothe an achy leg through overuse .
Under, really
as the more you do, the far fewer twitchy muscles or even inflammations ..
a totally drug dependent on any old crutch of a so called privileged ( even tho they wont admit just that) peeps who cant even recall that moat their ancestors awoke just like me every single day...
nothing needed to get me through even five minutes of yesterday, or year....or since about nineteen ninety ..
Is.... always total clarity, and lovely
But i bet most her clients cant even admit their truth in her supertherapy
What its for, to live only ever independently
Of all such fantasy.. remedy or super druggy key to doors opening on super spirituality
of course I'm wrong, they know the one and only next more 'advanced' humanity
shes too sensible to believe exists, but, still, denial of the impossibility
of ever talking or whackin em into joyful total sobriety
than little nancy boyman and his fancy horsey Homer...
About early lasterwinter, it is a far far splendider thing .....knowing there is bo hope of any simple human affinity out here...and thus one is free merely to obtain the best arse in profile than anyone else my bouncy age just by meditatively hillwalking the extremely empty hillocks
talking splendid bollocks to myself
and you even if 75% of audios havent got here yet never mind to bot infested Substack...
but i dont have the meandering time
online
ever to ' research' anything much....
But there is a kairos time...now..
' who was she, really....?"
( hearing yet another priv ed wankersucking Faulks very very sour dick on the wireless yestereve
never believe
on word of any English says he has read a book.
( even if hark my plant in the bookshop says that Mister subversive is doing really well ... i actually am quite thrilled this means there is hope of at least a minor civil war... the Accupuncturistes.... istes i rit
vs those tired if their every dull little word of jabbiness if you even suggest maybe its all just a meme... the data being at least 30% of all curing is just through being a sheep....and thinking like the rest are connedto ( one ohh or two same meaning i guess)
so yes...1993 ..a job lot of art arrives " a buddy from Oxford in the Soviet Union.." . former if it was by then dates rarely matter . ..
But my ohh my he must have had a real second rate source at some or other museum their heritage goin out the back door to even her front room ...
i thought i should look at last....
my my thats really rather beautiful...
says he who knows what my coven of tested tempered ones ...mild tempered tempered into hardened steely ones of late....do need to do
But her cocreator knew as he has seen me many a morning at lower quiet atch, him gazeller landlopeing by... occasionally, briefly eye to eye....
but no need to acknowledge,
the true brother tucked up into the hedge
anyway i do have to get this spiritualistISM business down properly...
WITH actual empathy
for a. the failure of it all as one saw daily
and b. i care about their cashtoo..
Never mind that the complete and utter divorce from cause, effect, taking ANY actual responsibility
for yes it was my land too, so it was also down to me
If i was one who read a bit of Guardian (as they would perform)
or even went to... the number one unnecessary rubbish dump and disturber of the cows
now if one is observant my they are SO predictable,
ME " i wouldnt go in a whole universe of free weekends, sorry con.... i saw with my own vibes in days younder gone
when there was a bit of genuine caring sharing and ok manners"
And then one of two options: " no i go to the special more world music events where the truly perfect ones like me gather in tents.."
or.. " how dare you... Dolly was so so authentic and indigenously magnificent brought us all so together..... and all my children go too, and do very well with their market stalls [ a not allowed phrase for 'their offering, into that lovely community'] ... "
(really not allowed phrase or observation, of fact: "so i guess they made the rip off ticket price selling cocaine in Clifford - the Primrose Hill of Hay-on-Wye ...to that young woman doused in petrol for not paying her bill... twenty years ago... never mind mining the rest of the cheap seat kids for ketamine cash...even the Town Crier in on that little gig....")
Now.... this is the only bit you are allowed to consume, for now....
All i care about, why as of 20 years ago the environment in places where there was some, was un-lovedly...
merely that as any actual rural person knew long ago, there are a few simple stereotypes - maybe half a gang who have their stereos loud with rubbish music and their thing is magazines on whats the chunkiest noisiest motor to wank over...
then the 'country sports' brigade from the shooter to the rest of them who are even more weird in the head (audios a few days ago ) and really do want the people, culled.... sadly
Anyway in regions of THE environment - especially the 'mid' elevation lands where the catchment is and far less arable, a couple of decades ago there was a quite sane 'stereotype. of the 'Guardian Reading' saner invader from The EAst...
And even saner ones who were already there out West, on NO inherited money at all indeed with NO money and no special thing about them being only 32 and knowing the EAsterlands were full of horseshit.... as the 'new age' warped itself all rather WAttsian up your bum self obsessed dribble.......
Anyway going West, nothing in the bank nothing special in ones past to brag about as they all began to - be here (there) and endlessly going on about what they had been before..
rather than living in that moment there (And even making a living locally there)
All terribly simple - maybe at a best estimate a quarter of the peeps were oldschool nature 'lovers' who had read or glanced at CArson's Silent Spring...
And knew that theytoo needed to maybe keep an eye open for reasonable habitats being Wastelanded unnecessarily... up on the road to Craswall....
from evil little drug fiend fakery central, HAy
There needed to be even just TEN percent who may be 'nature stewards' to make FRIENDS with local habitat bovva boys and find a way ...some compromise... by befriending even if its VERY hard work over years.... And one has to be on THEIR level as they - the generation long landowners are the indigenous who just want to mine every square inch of their land for enough cash to be able to afford the same fancy 4wds the invaders invaded in...
which is a reasonable response...
that needs reasong with... by reasonable nature aware thoughtful oldschool greenery...
But then.... what actually happened is just such peeps instead began to 'invest' all their limited time in... crystalgazing, ..'save MY MY MY unplenished soul..'. naval gazing nonsense... homeopathy for even the nags....never mind "only shrooms can set you free..." . which meant, as all that fake spirituality costs a lot of dosh and time and we all only have so much free...
they no longer even had time to perform REAL necessary
"ceremony"...just when we need them....
never mind to have taken part in real actual environmental 'COMMUNITY' which actually did what it says on their monetised can
of nothing
but them
And thus, they, the traditional (over 100 years in UK) nature 'stewards' no longer had the time..or energy....to take part and even go to a planning meet re the local chicken shed invasion early naughties... which is NOT the reason for a destroyed Wye it was already underway years before.... mainly due the poor waste arrangements of the yuppie barns that had popped up all over ... they came to live
IN
so as to plot how one day they would sue for their money back...
they only stole in the first place working for some or other dodgy corp or institution... they ..TO BE CONT
And now just sue for something they never cared to DO anything about, then...
Never mind just protect the odd bit of habitat nobody would really have objected to a compromise... especially if just a small amount of funds could be injected so as to say long lease a bramble patch in the Uplands
nope.....
that's why over 20 years all your environment just lost its spirit and died... cos of them so obsessively seeking to plenish...theirs..
with nothing. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
THE REST TO FINISH..... WITH CAPTIONS ....LATER
and endlessly monetise a false version of community to UP only his resale property price
but to reprise..only two South Western archetypes are such mad fun they are worth adding in to two decades of The Marches 'events'
AHH THE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE
left to moulder in her shed, Mrs once a sane farmer turned "white witch" when all she can go on about is nature and saving it... funny that the one who gave us the word 'gibber' even if it was her dad... was the ultimate rarest purebred example of that species...
but i don't judge..i sort their chaotic sheds irrespective of what the hocus pocus did to their once ok minds... and thus am happy
ohh yea god i never have a phone on the beach unless the ultra fake for months is saying that as well as her Oracle Girl maybe she should create some REAl content too just in case JAcquelines con isnt the actual answer...
ahh i can get the exact date of when IT died from these photos.. the spirit of the land
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