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
soon ideally when some insipid sugarfilled marmalade
you're at
the real tragedy
no one could get into any song essay or poetry
i discovered quite by amazing smiley little faces
someone isn't fake, in her sincerity
gee wizz what was that quite good thing i dozed off watching on the last-time-small screen night before last
all io care about is accurate history something from the early eighties
yes its cummin... ..an [F] stating " my mum a Mistress of self pity... better off forever free
from her dangerous neigh lethal hegemony.."
hahh hahh "Touché" (pronounced too-shay)
smiley too
culture is SO important a therapy when
honest and true, and goin' where there's no money in goin' today
Now i will even critique number first equal fave goddess when i see cant and vanity
Her good vibes not even workin' on her angst and un zen inability
to just let go, when there's nothing we can do about the destination
the next fake little Laurel canyon
or the mountain above,
if the pilot's scratching his bunyon
and doesn't notice the 'whoop whoop pull up'
till its coffee cup, internally,
time for, if you ever fly, soon,
edited highlights of how just so many of them crash and burn in such a way still today that even i gasp in consternation
at how tech's done so little to even assist their concentration
never mind the FACT that angels aren't afraid of flying
and the top commentress
should have shut up and go and tug at someone else's flowery dress
with illogical, wrongworded, fake metaphysical profanity
never mind
I sat next to Minnie on a flight to Chicago, back in the early 70s and she confided she was uncomfortable flying. We talked easily throughout the flight and she didn't realize the flight was over until we touched down. As we were disembarking, she thanked me for making her feel at ease and surprised me with a kiss on the cheek. Truly, I was Kissed By An Angel and her gesture stands as a memorable highlight in my 77 years on this planet. RIP Minnie, you are missed by many, including myself.
something else, later
But yes a pure proof of total sincerity!
Here at the one place i knew it was always dangerous even to smile at them
never mind them and their so friendly "hello Simon" when any others would scurry on by
and back home, actually proof theytoo live out i do think my first great book
she had a dead other animals on her funny little poo stick
oops i keep forgetting, as it wouldn't look quite comme il on their Desert Aisle...
Actual booky saudade, gosh at the beginning of this phase of perfect unmade
up the junction, to angel rocks...
It must have been one of my very first,
bit like Bella's magnificent How to Kill..
Felt like tearing off the outer layer
I wont be seen reading that underclass vile player
of the sex up all, so as to say nothing, game
perhaps a little like Monseweerr Charrière
validatin' violence via some sewer rat, turned tame
tale of nothing deep and just the same
old hyperbollocks sensationalising something better left crashed into the rocks
but i was wrong.
He did it with such gentle and honest alacrity
I really do think, Turgenyev, Gabriel, even the Rachels,
nope... if i have to be castaway with only one, until all hell's
wrath is spent,
and rereading it a few times til Bullimore
gets unlost at sea and finds my sactuary shore
I really do think it would have to be that one that seemed so ultimately cliché
Henri and his butterfly does in fact win the day
As heartfelt truelived travellers tale
truthtellin' and true skincolour free idyllic equality
merely a soul singer... of supreme true soul as good as fatbum my failed sisterly
travelogue happy endin'
coupla greatest mountains ever, the real reason for denying the greatest one ever just a limey dance
as me no 'tit man' as they say....
and they don't use words like 'sobriety'
so thusgot a very very intelligent long thoughtful giglist created by a woman of drugPornzance
who had seen them all before.... from her London actual management tent
" she is good as you say...
but she needs to try this place here, another day
here and she'll be consigned to trite tart insipid obscurity"
and my effort in her behalf at least half a day
of course not one ever has the manners to reply even four written real sweet songbird words thanks [for going to meet with her, and all those ideas for me] but not today
now it has not gone unnioticed that every wrinkly Cheltenham babe that runs 4chan seems to have now found Zeppelin on their todo
list gushing about something they never actually DID
and all fantasising about a history that never was
is rewriting of history and i'm sure the mad junkythen did nasty stuff
like The rat told me about even quite nice Axle
at a party with sidecick slash goin round jabbin junky needles into drunk lassies thighs
just for sick kicks
anyway at least some real version of history and a fairly good song that her of late, would have been so spazzed out of her mind by the second helping
still going on even old 'n lined about "psychadelix"
anyway at least they had a bit 'o real emotion and confected discombobulation, made of summit sugarfree
junky
BUT..... it was noted and this is so so hard!
As we forget infact its well hid
which side of the pond started to peddle pills to babes in arms
so their dick will never actually mature and get hard
and they of course must neurotically fiddle with history too,
hiding that one behind some latterday saintly
(quite interesting latest TOTAL spin on a man's a man
unless he wants to eneter the running race as a babe ...
EVEN THE UNITED KINGDOM OF TEAPOTS HASNT REMAINED QUITE THAT SUPREMELY BONKERS
challenge the fuckers to a duel with conkers)
anyway Fordham now i diligently bought her first cd
talk about the beginning of an eternity
of rubbish songs sung with some kind of confected virtuoisty
and imagery clearly lesbic intentionally
really rather pr savvy....
Utter amusical hogwash and forced unmusicality
to sell nothing to the wicker basket clad
actual totem: the dungaree!
Anyway theres no way i can give that rude lady one more click
sunrise, typin' in' the rain came'
WITHOUT any name
and up comes this rather lovely looking dame
for certain she will have something real to have been sharin'
Something rhetoric heavy downpour
of fabulous gritty chainsaw..
rantin out what its all about.... with actual sawdust-floor infused carpet shoes
KICKIN out the real blues...
soul or something sustaining..
about it now raining...
and what dyer know...
Julia mark two, a load of swampmud glue
does nothing for me, and if you
well you found the wrong Odyssey by accident
so bugger off to your likely free tent
sponsored by Cyclopse cravin' after any old sheep
never mind your're so mean you would make even him weep
so there you are thirty years ago! infact thirty two.
Knowing 100% for sure which direction the rest of life's nana boat will be headed,
any way but this way
(and all i wanted was to rescue.... or even bolster her learnings " this Gweek creek just full of hate" which of course is an atrocious and wrong usage of the language as hate is just the latest trendy nonword for the tragedy of humanity always picking on someone lesser or considered outcrowd....
and it takes REALLY good rhetoric to cohere the crowd back into somethin g vaguely functional or
solidarityish
wow i had lost my faith in photo art
but thats utterly heartstopping and fuck off if you dont think so too
(if it says up yours Gorby, solidarity, then its said exactly the same as if said by an English even though it hurts them to say it so,
[exact comma placement there sadly so superbrained Serb would ever even get and thus needed translator ohh well how sad]
they dont)
Anyway whist without a doubt the anglosphere is the problem..
(this early summer essays still to redicipher)
not 'place' but a shared usage of language developing into a shared arrogance and extraordinary ignorance
The Angle side of the spehere long ago one knew was more dangerous than the armed side and all their schoolkids shootin' each other
as the Angle side has this angle they are superior when they never really were and illusion is far more longterm dangerous for any peep...
Any place
there ARE human universals and ferk if i have to have one more convo (even with Muzz Gorgeous, perfect Floaty boaty above it all ) about yes some things are standard...
people especially chioldren brought up in a fake story do figure it and it really really hurts them sooner or later thats about the whole of the last 1000 years of good literary ...
not history,
thats perved up by Starchey and co nevermind Hobsbawn...
they cant even figure something simply biochemical that the science says the sugar makes you a tad emotionally vandal
And The angles
were the first to thus vandalise the handle
to quote the otherside
god ive just shocked MYSELF at the pure insta rap of that this is all NEVER a second to think
other than about how Tupac's [i have never heard]
finest mum Afeni,
GREAT legal actual 'activist' riskin neck and years up the swanny
would likely think
ohh let bygones be bygones... do we have to....
i mean who has in hoistory rhymed ANYthing with the greatest ever of em all Afeni
And in the last 'place' to quote Mister Andy Pandering to the press,
(at last a tad of real journalism " ehhh...well he had these big press conferences kissing tramps... but a few years on there were just as many on them streets and just as many pot holes) one ever expected, to meet and groom the only one who spits so elegantly
I know she at least will have done what she's been told
" слушать учителя....!"
why does it have it in our letterin' too? sadly there wasn't the other lifetime to ...well as she said quite rightly, " i left on the nana boat before developing adult understanding of my birth lingo and am opressed cos even thirty years here isn't enough to be utterly Queen, innit ..." slushat' uchitelya
Anyway the EFFORT to even get some Cyril in here without ferkin up the formatting of everything as for some years they don't like you copy/pasting from one page of gobbledygook to another, this...
and it SO screws with the layout
And to reprise even if not enough battery as there's a crisis ongoing that i never have as you just have to "RISE ABOVE IT ALL... " as the very sane one said, a week back gosh time flies..
Anyway that little photo " tell me the stories of simplifying.."
And it all started with two images in fact, firstly the first one who said that sixteen and a half years ago, and being a so called 'writer' from a certain 'place' (i understood I'm not 'judgey' but there are side-effects to a hellish childhood, that can ripple all her life, nobody else's fault, but you get caught in her ricochet and of course 'authority' merely smiles at the extra business they get from, playing that side of the fence ) was merely prostitutin' the trend...
The trend became for many of them to speak of " simplify" at around the turn of that decade, but they never could it was just a fantasy
some of them had having seen tv programs about it i guess i wouldnt know as i knew what's good for a child 25 ago - chuck it out, or give it to someone from the lands where it was compulsory
But its at times like this of late the TRUE meaning of 'simplify' comes into play
from dawn every day.
And all i care about is the VERY rare product that does what it says on the tin, or her stated ingredients arent fake plastic infused..
THE number one methodolism
of getting Mickeysoft the ferk out of your system
(apart from anything else it eats battery)
Jarte plus super simple notepad, for free
does indeed do what it says on the tin, except it doesn't speak Ruskie so copy paste off some webpage
especially so called AI ...
into jarte... removes all formatting if i can be bothered
then paste into here...
In her lingo has to have two extra steps, into gmail first which doesn't discriminate
keeps the lettering but seems to lessen the innate formatting i hate
so as to keep it as Utterly simple day after day
No quirky little bells and whistles,
just wordplay
which of course doesn't ever work, not even on her, Mrs or is it Mizz...
Bed 'o nails.... about whom they take the nastiest piss!
And obviously
no way i can be guilty
of anything but purity
Well even an English reader of ok Follett books cannot ever any more read between the lines.
Even rather funny fruity ones.
as i know she just needs a laugh...
and thats just THIS 'working week'.
Righty ho the other image...
oops i havent attended to all that matters on this page
" love...I am of absolutely no interest [she seems to unnarcissisticaly intuit
and takes my words on face value, done and dusted]..ONLY you are of any interest... and may matter some day...."
"...СЕЙЧАС...!"
I'm not that nasty as a Portuguese jack-booted used to appear for effect...
even if you have to do some work to follow this which is all very simple really..
" this is in fact your first lesson i was awry starting at Reggie.... if you wish to understand
your adopted land"
and about the only classical music that ever had any real feeling
rather than faked for the crowd or king
And i know she will have done EXACTLY what she was told.
Despite being the most informatively
vicious hissy, fitting of course the stereotypical mould
("and in the glorious year of our Lord twenny twenny vision...all so lovely and clear they had gone nuts due grief - losing their bourgeois jobs tvs car payments and status as a nation of shopkeepers....so just in GRIEF and one cannot reason with 'folks' in grief stupid Brett and Heather too stupid to even have figured still moaning about whatisface their chief medic... and 'conspiracy' and all that silly billy bullshit....
".... i met Mister Anderson's wonderful former chief bumboy buddie obviously performing any-chappie--for-rent?
in his solo existent
ial angst
.. coproducer, on a Presteigne streetcorner he was so lonely as an old man and cos of the heavens on side we stopped and nattered in that glorious sunshine thentoo...
"and he told me ' Linds always used to say to me in our heyday years in the sunshine... the key to life is stickin one up the bum of the establishment....
but with a CLEAN fingernail'........
and he did a LOVELY performance into my camera ..
his smile was historical....
[breaching my government mandated personal space
bubble of two metres... so beautifully, real humanely]
went with his costume rather quizzical.
The only REAL smile ever seen on a Britolite's face ")
one that means one for all and all for one, or just 'community'' ?
Her most beautiful look as if she needs to bite your head off for just asking what EVERYone should know, is so beautiful it's daft.
" hahh that's funny another international word in Lingua Franca... for the English to ... run away crying if you even whisper it in their ear...
" NOW...HAVE YOU PONDERED THE NUANCE YET OF THIS PHRASE I GAVE YOU YESTERDAY, 'BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE' ? IT'S AN ORDER.. THAT I SHALL EDUCATE YOU... NOT A REQUEST... oops acc cap they certainly don't deserve a capitalisation that's the point, it's a kindof question, wrapped up in a stolen kaftan from S Ken market.... in their shoplifting days, when let out at lunchtime from The Priory for a wander and reacclimatisation....
****
That was then, in paradise under their trees... a nice evening breeze... i need to prepare for the next encounter. What to ask her...
And prove via words she won't be 'fraid of... how hers are so ridiculously apposite, because of.. all the rest, her exact opposite
(to be cont)
But the only workshop that matters, three years hard work prepping for...
A real European man can take dissent; and, knowing more than him, like a man... and thus is beautiful, too.
Indeed saudadetoo....
(far deeper more extensive journalistic oddessay notes always accompany
but bugger me its hard to even keep up with the backup,
FIRST, before i get to the longform. All for free..)
And the consensus reached upon something maybe subtler
and more interesting, in his word, via ten minutes of Socratic joustings, him and me.
Even if his shitty Two Cities is just about tolerable and a bit better placed
(remeber the last Moor chat " ehhh... you think they taiught you how to be a lit teacher, well they didn't... Grayling et Al haven't even bothered reading actually great lit, Extinction, i know i asked him to his smiley face, Thomas's likely best book of three quarters of a century
subtly parodying them, not comme il faut... to those unliterary
so called gods of it...
and if you go though it Thommy
subtly weaves in [I DO NOT COPY
in fact it hadn't really occurred as three years ago i was only dead and unhappy,
a bit] his book and art recommendations, and long i resisted Scarlet and Black his number one
top of the pops ...
...a far more subtle and LEARNED soulful - real ones, take on head lops"
nope no point, deaf ears
even where one is meant to have them for the words of other 'travellers' or mountaineers
(there being only honour upon them hillocks
lost intergenerationally in all sorts of other bollocks)
THE THREE TREES
two aforementioned though only in briefest outline sketch
But it all started with tree grab number one.
Twenty fourteen, the vultures still just about alive enough to descend
Two men angry at each other back to back, buzzing away
from lunchtime when they started their day
no reason to be even at odds
mere stupid lost prideful sods
But not one word of coordination collaboration
" you take that branch i will have this...
and that way we safely maintain a few metres ish..."
The day that one (photoshot) all countryman sanity gone.
And having deserved infotainment money from even snider snotty readers, is NOT it....
(*aside of raising a next generation
partly ok.. even if almost impossible in the worst ever education of today)
THE BEST AND MOST ENJOYED JOB EVER
And not even on their dull hillocky moors.
Indeed almost equidistant between the two mere tourist ''Parks'
But i never reveal any truly great place's identity.
You never know what nonsense gossip or bullshit jealousy.
now... as so oft stated there is no interest in any Swestern place or time...
At all ever except in fact the rare few whom prove the point which is that on the job, you need at least a bit of fun banter to take you through, that's not about the JOB, it's about anything but the job.... as you know how to do the job you're trained in from age ten by the one beautiful big gentle giant of a bloke who took all the time in the world to take you through every step...
But actually caring to pass on certain 'techniques' no matter what, can be more bitterswetly emotional headfuckerly
put into one image, from a decade ago...
I MUST get back to, as its interesting, when all about down here is not.
a tree...
In fact two!
One fallen, in a large magnificent Secret Garden* of hundreds of hectares nobody else but me ever meandered much
The day the 'music' died...
The day that fire inside
was pissed out all about by shroomy or cider ways, or infact just a death of spirit
which had until that time, been guaranteed as time to be alive
rather than drown in quick lime
" TREE DOWN.... tree grab....!!!!.."
The local croffulate peasantry
allowed onto the surrounding unpathed parts of his property...
But that January
One fell just up the actual cobbled pathways there many a century
an easy 'grab' 'n wheelbarrow back to the hovels and caves
And January went by...as did Feb
not a peasant in sight...
March even.... (me sneakin out with quiet bowsaw, undercover of night)
Obvious SOMEthing..had snapped.
The heart of even Them Woodlanders, broke...
all communal spirit up in smoke
Ahahh but not quite finished that story of whatever gory nonsense had twisted them out of shape..
REAL emotion is what a junk food addicted nation - munchin Ealenor's manky self pityful, Eliphant
may more get turned on by one day
Real JoJo Moyes off to Zurich time....
REAl... where's my axe and my own chopping block, and I'm sure Heath Robinson had some clever solution,
to the ultimate failure in the only institution
that kept the land ongoing....
best simple job to share with the younger one...
so shetoo may one day just maybe be able to do the satisfying version
of a whole other tree bagged by me...
And left standing (Ash died back) ... just in case.... there may be that oppourtunity
Of daughter and dad making use of every smallest bit of said dead tree
All you ever wish to do, real home education, as is your responsibility
* of course like all would be aristos Lady Oxford even way back then, utterly lied to her competition " Capability Brown did it don't you know.." when one seemingly reliable source said he merely once came to tea
and gave her a bit of planting info and emotional solidarity
So just in case i die of serendipitous joyfilled plenishy stuff - real nectar, that proves itself in extremely good Bristol Chart ratings.
Not that the Swestern varieties can maintain even their smiles between the varying plant tops they stumble around endlessly, in the dark...
And anyway, no interest, other than that wonderful young man and less plenishy babe mum, we huddled just lasterweek and i had never noticed one before but he did and pointed it out to us the other side of the street of dead bees...
"keep a journal young man its truly interesting the eco upheavals this one...especially here.."
Now..i know they will have listened (posher version of Captain Fantastic en famille) and even done IT...especially when told a story of how we gaggled around the first one seen and then where the second one was and what happened in between.
indeed my photos are of a far more sylvan beautiful version... a real one rather than the other come-latelys around and about..
i have zero interest in.
Other than nobody can listen to a pretty good Socratic instruction developed some years ago..
" i do not care or judge or lament i only deal in facts... only women have the 'voice'... what with Messrs Mister Fix it, Clifford ehh those other names that's a bout all peeps can ever talk about... him and Ghislane's island ... copper Couzens... etc etc even if they miss out from the list about equal really rather unpleasant baby bashers and we now notice the birds have joined in in the mad fire-starting thing.... ONLY women can speak passionately in public and it may get some traction... fact... the greens may be weirdo failures and embezzlers of my sidekicks time, but they knew that one a decade ago, put a bird up... she may be listened to just a little more than if some bonkers bloke who one just knows especially if he goes for long walks in the hills alone regularly for his health and efficiency, is guaranteed to be a headbutter in the making.... or if in Pastylands a drug dealer's scout keeping an eye on the horizon for incomming... its HORRID to be a man in any part of Swesterlands... anyway my hobby has been attempting to bolster, encourage, enthuse, even enrage with quite good jokes these days it has to be said, those whom DO have the future voice... entirely unequivocally... if THEY have a bee in their bonnet - teasing it out and then attempting to encourage ' sit or better be a wandering hobo.... and write it just splurge it all the way.... ' .."
Anyway... the one thing of course they could never listen to is just how foolish and prejudiced one can be DESPITE knowing fact!
And she didnt look a day over about sixty two or three...in the darkened leylight of the energy fields all about...
having heard REALLY what the big (like DIVINE grift) grift is ( i only use that awful word as its become slightly trendy of late as an elbow jab that won't work).
Indeed what matters is that even snivelly teenagers knew that THE sex bomb of the flicks
and even nowadays despite my hairdye prejudice AND knowing theyre stupid retards, as it fails ..... being natural silvering (i still do talks and photoshoots) THEY say causes them to look younger than their age as "the skin ages in sympathy with the silverin' and i know i look fuck-me sexier even if nobody but you has ever put it quite so well..." and sunglasses as they cause earlier cancerdeath...
She still is THE sexiest real sex bomb we all knew back then even if twenty or even thirty years older than us snivelly teens...
Anyway where did i get to....
THE END of the yellowed badly maintained brick road...
In the ...well not saying! In fact that's a sneaky way to do it, place it on Exmoor! as rival....
" thanks for telling us those stories.... is this it here [on my phone] ... ?"
" yes ... i promise you'll like it from your clearly wise mind to even slag off your own born a Catholicism...
"but thats not what its about, you even heard the old scholar agree with me its a beautiful tract about real pacifism..
"never mind when i watched it i realised that winter 1976 it imprinted on me a good balanced morality
"and ive never been able to not be on the lookout for she
"is my perfect one...dark hair...skinnyish...
"does NOT let him get away with an easy ride...
" youve had you cake and eaten it too M asssterrr Rid...
" but you're not getting a free pass back into the bracken with me unless you...
"god i learned so much from that even if of course one fails to remember, and one is failure, nevertheless superb true feminist tract too.. yes she looks a bit Lorny too... though is far sexier...
"anyway back to business... so your Papism... how interesting is THAT!!!! god nobody has told me that before..."
" ahhahhh kind sir let me tell you another story... i was living in the Far East and a friend of mine was taken to the hospital and we knew dying. A Buddhist priest scuttled in from behind the fridge almost like a cockroach ...
" and let me tell you what he said to me a mere in his ashram eyes [******]* ...well clearly they aren't quite as they seem either.... "
* not telling its so good there's a whole book innit a proper one....if only they dare....
But the real book, as to be botheredin truths of peoples other side of planet even if their nutjobbery infested London many a decade ago - no other county except Surrey of course had the insanity to believe their be-cloaked grift ... is not for the person of the other people. Who's job is merely to set example regarding her own truth telling of her own people.
Even if they never ever will as sadly i lament and daily discover.
HOW....ever.... i know what is at root. They merely can't listen; eg
" let me tell you.... this bird i met randomly yesters... i didnt pay her much mind as she was in a flock rather past their sold byebye date... as i just added in a bit to their tour guided by someone who really DID reveal the deeper down truths to me....
inadvertantly
but then she had been listening and moseyed up my way and we had this wonderful chat no holds barred based on SELF DEPRICATION the sexy sort...
yes what you hear is right we can't ever quite tear out the bloodied Mary thing.. or that silly shaded nonsense ... "
" hey but you alone maybe have the best fun - sin, go and lie to your priest about it's frequency and absolute unfealty.... and then start over again redeemed.. even if all disloyalty is only sadness in reality, eventually"
" anyway let me tell you a story.. about my time in the Far East... and that age i wouldnt worry you're still just a baby compared to me !!"
Ferk Me... i really did think maybe sixty three
A straight back bouncy body and super super sparkly eyes...
fizzing out in the gloom
As i say, so often " hmmm....maybe ten maybe twenty percent really do LET GO all the way.... no more coyness no more fake politeness no more pretending its all peace and harmony in their local 'community'.... or as i would see that on e atop the Herrock Hill National Park just her bounding up she faster than me way past seventy three... no sports shoes or even water bot....
indeed usually attired quite witchily....
alone have what they all want, but too scaredy cat to let go and find it
... almost eternal youth AND desirability... "
stupid me why didnt i grab her and at least get her email " we need to collaborate on that one - you ALONE daring to besmirch the unbesmirchable.... and i know you would answer one unlike all the rest i have absolutely no idea ever nowadays what on earth any of em actually have in their head behind their far less alive eyes than yours... so burnin bright with truth serum...
and realising the key is in givin up ever again bein uptight
shame most of the rest dont know whats best
for them..
always....even down under ... youll be liking the weather then hahh hahh..."
" bit chilly if you ask me..."
In a manner thats the EXACT opposite of a moan: pure unadulterated cheek, even at the expense of her regional tour guides... her local friends.
Monday, 17 August 2026
" yes but they all pay ten pounds ...."
We may well need a ' fight back for humanities' but there's no hope until they start to believe the human words were invented for a reason. Free means free.
Now what a truly splendid way to end... I do love a rare but worthy honourable textin' opponent. And even a hippo oath pledged among the vipers, cannot be broken, in my book.
Chaka having an argument with the stupid poshtarts of 4chan... via 4 chan.... once removed
" all was fine until those absurd little wanky boymen tried to get the girls by faking being real men with their silly little DJ rigs..... DJing killed real music [and a fine thesis] and is FAKE music... "
Posh..at 08.59... " chaka Kahan we love you [ yet more people pleasing when theyve no idea how to hate onself for not pleasing her one request that one night] but you are wrong...[smiley smiley Cheltenham LAdies smileyspeak...]....."
Nobody argues with a bouncy real Boudica ever....in my book.
So.... you awake in the perfect Sunday Morning quiet atch yestermorn and put on the wireless and get a (there are MUCH better interesting snippets in the can all summer)
Now i have only one interest in 'Christianity' - having against my better judgement even 17 years ago allowed them to have conversations with me and discovering that its all about THEIR pathetic little soul, now... only
not as it was from the real reformation maybe 100ish years ago about doing good works for the common good, now... here...
which was a fair dunkum a fair usage of skyfaerie made up nonsense...
But you really can't have it both ways, i bet it never says in any modern history books, that the natives would happily Bonobo each other from dawn til dusk...
("if it moves fuck it if it doesn't fuck it til it does")
Of finest Africa from top to bottom...
And you didnt get your head chopped off for a bit of bottie action...
Even if the Bonobos are just playing at it and all also do the serious side just above so as to foster them selves..
But being the whole of poor Africa was emotionally blackmailed into this awful Death Cult (as Chinua's fine Things Fall apart brilliantly takes you back to...) called Jesusism and theyve taken it a tad literally regarding anyone not doin it only missionary position with a missionary of the opposite sex...
And wish them an early very very nasty departure to hell...
On really does have to join up those dots, too, just how him on his so called cross has made so many previously laissez faire fine African bushmen and babes, bein bonobo or chimp depending on the weather
Now... back to the beginning and far more poignant pondered material....
And maybe clothes back ontime...
Even if i don't understand..i just don't, nor do i belong, where the perfect fun happy family can't even persuade their teens to take their trousers off
midsummer at our riviera, not even a Summer Breeze....
I think i shall one day, but i have to incorporate the only GREAT artist and his mode...
" hmm you are interesting Peter JA ... each paintin' of your Monty Python on Viagra... collection has a few lines of poesy with it.... thats what i need to do but didnt feel twas appropriate all these wanky purists think that their customer's imagination is superior to their so called art.... "
I shall, also...one day even if the wanky word The Mong (MFA innit) demanded
" even my art is inadequate only the word can really get the knives out and cut the butter... lets see what i can Utter..." one day attempt to showcase my thousands of anti-berbhard snaps
Mostly never ever aforethought or staged - never enough time or place or protection
One called ??? foraging on their hillocks, next to the so called man who can only think of his foraging in the autumn, so as to enlighten his clouded mind that can't even appreciate these mindblowing early ones... or something similar except its THE SID adjacent serendipitous happenstance one that started it really only half posted i care to attempt to make sense of all their nonsense... that is now officially beyond all comprehension.
Which is freedom and a "get IT back " i wrote on my main new notepad at the beginning of this year. Not knowing if i could even get a bit of 'it' back...
And then i get the whole full house!
Talking of which... now according to the vile backstabbery all about i won't even emerge from hers... today.
Dishin' up another lovely unknown from that REAL summer, likely just cos i rit '1976'
(the only one who did the Badger Baiter's best one, just as good)
it being safe now to return to that Test being the Lennon adjacent fake family man pretending to bridge across the pond, has thankfully retired to contemplate his last unshakable coil of old microphone cable around his fake rubberneck.
anyway maybe the texan weather of London that one made her feel at home and all sweet smellin of the dustbowl....
Righty ho ....now one needs ...
nothing, except to work on the Rough Guide to what the vile continent really was, even if nuthin to do with me and anyway it was as if the boards of the ships that they slept upon that perraps first Mayflower, were a second sighting, heralding, of just how dead-plank like they would be in the sack, during my adventures in them fabulous mid eighties and on...
And thus i am only European; nevertheless history must not be rewrit nor the travel guides.
Anyway as one saw in those eighties, meandering their fake historical monuments god they had a complex...
And if they had just stopped the Easy Ridin' and thought.... if we stick a snub nosed little Los Angeline junky...
Whom actually was a KRAUT and her dad a bus man...big ones...
Indeed i do hope Nige doesn't play this at any future rallies.... or we could get 'im where it hurts...
Anyway merge a ruined kraut, with a bit of a toff, from Ill Notty lands...
And you get a perfect mongrelisation where the nutjob Kraut (and ok a bit of English in err too mixed up with the coke she would have applied externally, thus inventing the fizzy gusset way before i even dreamed it up in a moment of fizz a few days ago..) managed to kick the snotty English out of the snotty English and create perfection
before the rest of em a bit late to the party - even if rightly attempting to take one out of the greatest fakes of all time
Anyway that will all have to wait even if i have zero interest in any manufacture or origin story of anything its merely do they have heart or soul
and furthermore even if a mere first draft and something does need editing if i ever get a socket...
You know there is no hope whasoever as number three mentions.... when in this region it is impossible now to have a conversation even with a sportwear clad silly old man, even HINTING that 'magyc mushrooms' "sprinkled over ones cornfales every morn" just like the other drugs so many politicians even are dependent upon.... may not be the key to all future psychology...
Nope...one gets smiley-growled at even with the sexy girfriend in jogger pants aside, as it's not comme il faut, which is merely another more elegant gazelle like phrase for being a dead sheep
which i know is the key to life, alive ones awake every morn with pure and simple thought in their heads, always, " hahh hahh that was lovely awaking to LAndslide after that perfect nap... before meeting the perfect and so polite immediately chatty and friendly family.... there on my last day"
"so... is she number four...?. I mean it's obvious she's had to duel her elders for every bit o' attention.... and ferk me....... she does it the AUFENTIC way... five year olds oops sorry lass... nearly six.... don't meet eye to eye,
quite so flirtily ...
old buggers like me
just the other side of the perfect waters
that don't separate youze lot from me.... "
"no number three...
" but as you can see ...i mean little miss bossy boots, we even had to lug her scooter over half the bleedin' moors..."
" MOTORBIKE mummy! "
" as you can see...and hear..."
*******
chapter 3
" .. hey .... there's no signal here .....we're in a nullspot look all around and if you see the hillbrowlines all around you'll have to go up there to get a whisper of it...
" nahh it dont matter i was just using mum's phone to call my phone, ive lost it..."
" ahhahhh young man well that's perraps a good lesson in you can't rely on these things always as we were just talkin' 'bout...and that silly government alert that awoke the sheep dozing outside your tents "
Now even if i Missrecalled one fine event, that of The Hurricane and the world's most desirable fiddler ever, and best, indeed a year earlier.
In the great rewrite of history that fair dinkum started with the worst blokes in the world, then... ignoring the first propper pukka appearance of punk, never mind annotatin them history books just so, even if my Deserted Aisle would be only quiet girly tunes, "this is a song about an old Welsh witch.." my my we've met a few attempting to monetise them...
All the incame to The Marches, ever did...foraging for something that never existed...
As thisteryear i have attempted to save so many from " ehhh... a great heritage expertbabe said to me all her heritage compulsion is made up as nobody can imagine why forexample they built these stupid stone circle inventions.... "
And they often get a little jaw dropped that someone dare not to be in the most conformist mindset ever in history, all tourism is....
Indeed all them 'stones' could'v been for for all we know..
To tempt the Great fizzy one to do a live gig so as nobody need bother mergin' ICE leccy gloves with gussets inc as someone found the magyc formula long ago...
in that glorious year when she should have drowned them hormoneless m oanin Ramones and taken her true throne upon ...indeed kicked down their silly Stoneyhenge and saved everyone a lot 'o time..
THE PURPOSE of all that sweaty stone work was over thousands of years to only tempt her...
Now... even if a bit of a fake Johnny come lately
....The infamous 1976 UK drought lasted for 16 months in total, beginning in May 1975 and running through August 1976. The most intense peak of the dry, hot weather—often remembered as the 1976 heatwave—lasted for about two months from late June to late August 1976
And a propper summer spawns a bit of a rant later on that glorious....year...
oops how to actually give all the so called Gen Z a mental illness that'll really piss em off and make realise they're entitled to nothin, at all.... when they realise that in fact exactly mine was the 'chosen' ones...
Now.... even if i discovered I am part of the mass formation psychobubble Miss Informin'
Even if merely for fun.
You cannot have a better endin to it, nodding off in the empty heather and new gorse floweration...
A whole perfect fourty five minutes, earned...
And awaking with a bit of Stevie in your ear.
The nice quiet one. Which is me, especially when later on walking down you encounter THE 'landslide' but as the header thingummy says this is happy times, only
So yes a nice chat with the welly booted young boy atop the hilloclish nag with mum and dad " your mum must be one of the rare good ones left, everyone else would call her a child 'aboozer allowing you up there in wellies.. ponces .."
But how was i to know 'awakening' from the best ever mid afternap...
to Stevie...
I would be taking the perfect socio realistic rare bird photo, a bit later, entitled:
family. a real one
or if one was intellectual in a simple way, and knew what saudade' means, rather than the fuckwit AI version which merely copied the fuckwitless people version ' a word that cannot be translated' ....
saudade we can get it back...as the Portuguese actually say privately to their confiidantes.
An hour later... " they loved it but no unicorns yet...
" so how old are you .. five....ehh six... [ the neuros never meet you in the eye aged...] ?"
the biggest unneeuro diverged into frruitcake smile in fact almost looking a bit swiveleyed...
" five ...tommorows my birthdayyyyyyyyy...!"
a little later.
Mum, a REAL one: " you're right she will i do believe be in lead charriot sh'es an utter terrorist you know..."
" i could see that the moment i laid my eyes on y'all...well done youtwo....!"
" 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...
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