Now... Eckheartless ones...I bet he doesn't give abundently to anyone but his Swiss Bank manager either

 All your 'work' that doesn't work.

And then all those little Potemkin villages all around... Firstly The Marches,  and i guess more or less same time the Swestern swamp...

(and there always has been a moral, yes that's a word even if unfashionable in Gweek, of the story which is don't trust a film writer or any kind of writer who takes up the banjo -  always only for one reason, to get a different kind of girl... )

 as i am quite sure did Bruce having made a truly morally magnificent film in 1984, Killing, with the beautiful Dith brought to a real heroic life, that attracted the serious women  who had a real heart, but his weird inner grape sodden compass  rusty from the lack .......well what can one say about abusive stepfathers so i guess he gets a free pass,  but i bet he took it up concurrently with or at some point before  Withnail 87, thus forever destroying music, too... as well as decent deep cinema.

So, one can be all worthy and aren't i truly wonderful having had the LAST it bloody better had be it's so so boring learning even little things about the self.... and being so worthy as to discover, pinpoint even so well in waffled words a little earlier, exactly, ones last bubbling little gaseous farts of Bulldoginess ... or as the Ruskie put if in her fabulous stories in the greatest bench  story war of all time, her DELIBERATELY in a way pathewtic little henry Thoreau could only masturbate thinking of something he could never ever be.... sure...her stories were better than mine and needed spinning out longer than mine, deliberately....to illustrate our POINTS that we are 100% sure of are fact...

it's just so so nice to meet someone who rightly fully believes in her self and her army even if a pacifist like me...

Likely in the marital bedtoo ... having spent all her rocketfuel on her true equal....me, who has no muvva no land and certainly no muvvaland, and believes in only one place, nowhere. 

Anyway  how wonderful to jhave spat out quietly maybe the best decription of slightest lingering Bulldoginess  - that impossible to entirely have cauterised sense of slight 'superiority. even if for the 100th time fuck this world is so ignorant of the GREAT writer Pilger the Ausie... i mean its not as if he didn't also sell quite a few million of his superb books, ever wanna be Alexei Sayle or 1980s-90s non-wuss would proudly display on their bookshelves and yes even read...

  

 Anyway ones inner revelations and admissions of whay 'work' in fact rarely transforms its people or the occasional smelly Black Swan event...

..are nothing really,  especially when you meet HER on the Hills or Moors or as real mountain men like me call them, the hillocks, and are so rediculously constantly happy in almost The Worst Place even if its very pretty up there... all you can think of is just putting up with her ...punting look, my way

that was so ridiculously perfect...

Is that its all very well being so ultra zenny mindfully wise and speak with and of purest righteous love for anyone especially a Ruskie merely due to such true 'critical thinking' - for the Britolish thats not a nasty habit that Zac and his team of plenishy abundanteenies, should come along and save you from it's what your whole so called civilisation is based on....

And then one has to also know that all politics is a game, and i felt love for the AFOREMENTIONED earlier today...

 Ivan's daughter...

I would love to have come to something...

Anyway true evil is being in visitor tourist regions  - any, especially so many years in that awful Potimkiny  BAlack MOUNTAINS / Wye region .. as they pass through, use the locals for kicks, and then pass on... never even give you a bell and say 'lovely to meet you'... theyre always fiull of some PAulo Coehlo style quest to find inner perfection via the next KNaussguard lookalike who actually never has anything REAl to say...

such as ... it needs saying over and over and over and i learned thats all politcics is, artfully not getting bored having to say a few key policies over and..

" women who get over that 52 ish year hump, exactly same for blokes... we all freak at fifty ...

ohh thats a point its the fiftieth anniversary... i mean imagine... there you are the greatest summer ever... wildflowers all summer reading Master Durrell in the  meadows of them, perfectly positioned as she knew full well to catch  the odd glimpse of  the days when women didnt even need to trim their bush indeed that was the whole point  - to tease some poor little just teen to exploding point her and her bikini, and me...

And a few week laters  the wireless  goes berserk ... as if long heralded nuclear war had actually begun.. which is NOT a decadent 'westerner' claim as its all relative....ALWAYS...

when youve got lovely Elton and far lovelier Kikki on a few weeks earlier, and all is love 'n roses .... and anarchy breaks out  

it hurts...it traumatises.... it makes you reassess your perfect summer of No Cider.. but my Rosie was far sexier than his.... even if it was look but don't touch.

Anyway where was i....  spite. One can perform purest worthiness in-blog, audio version as i have such a fun time almost always, on no money, on nothing, and noone, as most employers are illusionistal gibbers... and thus, have everything i need, except bloody battery.

spite.... I take only one pleasure from any writing up of anything, and am glad i have the very meanest several thousand a day minimum readership in history...

As to spite you...it is impossible to have had such a perfect sublime mature real  near-hillocktop ...encounter.

And get such a  warm smile ...back.

and ok in a pretty beautiful spot, too... 

And ... she enjoys too the perfect waters ive all summer long

well... a decent Stevie once sang.. indeed more than sang....

The one and only.... " i try to say what i mean...and mean what i say.."

Even if forced to tell a lie....for raison, de....morality

 

Anyway where was i.... Master Oak.... meetin' izz  wonky one he had to tame... for the first time; Even her seein' madman Heathcliffe... in the English private school girls favourite act of masochism, all they are satisfied with... all of them pale into insignificance... when compared to a simply perfect meeting ... out in some real ..naturetoo.

Yes i must stop interrupting myself thinking of the rather large pile of notes i have in respect of wise little things to just finish off that are outstanding some months - since early March to be precise when the Devils Spawn revealed his likely borderline personality disorder having found me here so he....says...

Which i will be getting to imminently or rather the day after tomorrow as i have the perfect sometime job, to actually work sometimes on ACTUAL farmer Ridd's Doonetown proper farm...

Doing what i like doing best, his dirty work too dirty for him...

Did i repeat or even get the words out adequately short coherent sentences: " loads of babes met  under 50 for one non nightlife reason or another, quite randomly and rather weirdly  as i am a hermit... mainly... not one ever ever ever EVER is even   a BIT desirable.... ok there is one and i told Memsaab that story...and she understands why entirely off limits, which is not why she is desirable...

It's just her smile...and ... non Hunter wellies. and well..... 

BUt as for over 52s... about 10 maybe 20% manage to realise that not thinking they are desirable any more or could be they stop ferkin thinking about it and start to become actually human and let go into being what maybe they may be if they let go a bit more.... and become not merely desirable....   but hot as a cat on a tin roof i built for her logpile...

and all one then wants to do is curl up in her lap afterwards, because there is nothing more beyond that truest true desire... and this isn't some Cosmopolitan made up nonce-piece...

ten years of practice! Allowing 'in' those whom are desirable, sustainably so.... and not one ever has been  who is younger than 52

(...excepting her who is so off limits that of course i test myself... and have passed that test. Not even a dirty thought...no mucky mucky thoughts... only purity.

Never mind the purest muck for many a mile.)

being sure of yourself, via having earned that right to be just that

...even if you don't know which end of the world is best - who can....  when the culture became so awful it never guides us as it once did....but i can...

is the only sexy thing there is

But poor Eckheart wants you to just be.... something other than all there ever was...

And i love to only spite the meaner so called readers there have ever been

BY saying that nobody has ever had such a splendid lovely... Hillocktop...scene as good as even Kundera at his best 

or Ngaio Marsh... at her namesakeland.... or it would be in some other season

one which wasn't this now perfectest, purest  and simplest,  summer