( just in passing being is I am so in the flow/groove/zone it's daft
and only ever far too much pleasure, when i should in fact be figuring how to get real sanctuary and pay for it...
in other words they'll all think they..matter....no they don't even if one image one chap i must not forget .... him summing up every silly thing of them.... furthermore my sequence and every word of promise i recall....never mind him - I don't fantasise even if silly hopeful unashramania eyes.... always no matter what every sunrise..
and it's a free
but the sequence, i MUST get THE INFORMATION, to the fine Serbian priest who was truer in constructive critique than any other man of certainly this century
oops good that's a reminder
every word for me has a flavour
now yet another, indeed its default down here.
food faddist
" want this collected rice, me lassie...i no longer cook due the price of gas "?
" not for me i'm allergyc... i'll pass"
no longer even causes an inner bubble of incomprehension never mind consternation...
however...
now in far far too long in these always exactly the same places of be your best individuated self found plenishy self...
as long as you can afford the price ticket of her ridiculous kundalini
or whatever last year's love was up to with her sales racket
not once, in fact NEVER well except for just once but he doesn't count
him noticed in the little alleyway in Uptown Presteigne autumn of our Lord twenty twenty,
in the shadows, the worst musician ever in all of history
or maybe number two after The Ratty
little false allegator one day soon we shall get to him
So the routine is go to Hay from Primrose hill
fake some nicety whilst putting up the breadshop
("Esti and dad's Thursday usual please, ooohhh that's a rye and fennel as you no longer value your decade long transactional relationship unless its for a fuckin vat of gojiis or or some other faddy goatee nonsense, your only people, please"
prices so much it made us ill).
fuck off some seemingly quite ok wife even if she can't be bothered to remember her 'locals' needs and wants
just to get the fuck out of their Primrose poncy platudinous paradise
Anyway... can't quite afford HAy any more it really does take two to just pay the ridiculous rents...
off to piss of Presters...
(as usual this lot can't even manage the simple phrase 'competition for limited resources' in his case great big fat 'motorhome' - the trendy band member type whats they called
the ones all never-been musicians lust after
but i bet he lusted after one of 'em..
poor chappie could only afford
god what a retard, sixteen years using this remarkably unfiddled with platform and i forget you can change the size of the snaps...
(LAST TIME EVER I USE THOSE OF ANY OTHER!!!!! note to self written in blood!)
anyway talk about clogging up the municipal car park with very limited parking for the few who dont have a space outside their front door in that dingy little dump, poor chappie never seen with anyone else aside him in the far too large for a small car park bonkin' bus..
But it's a free world... or ish... unless you can't afford Hay... and meandered tail between the legs having failed there, my way..
Anyway to the point, now thirty years meandering, noticing, just taking the temperature of the local flavour. Not once did i ever even hear the word 'sex' uttered, nor any evidence whatsoever that anyone ever was in any way having it...
I mean it would obviously occur occasionally such as the remarkably great girly singstress, one met and used as trusted guitar learnstress for lass twenty years ago, and rather appreciating her first cd... never released...
even if merely number three in the regional top of the (official, but never charged of course the spiritual goddesses get their PR defence in first) embezzler pops....
and pondering her as authenticity... for some years until the bun appears and i had always wondered why that chap was always dressed as if he was just back from Portobello at the local evil Coop, and then heard (not from the grapevine as i dont gossip) but from the bun's mouthpiece that he is very rich and has a fortune in the bank back at home....
theirs, well i don't think it ever was.... or lets put it this way that the spitting and visceral hatefilled spatteration about her lad's dad ....
was tragic and rather bad
for all concerned
all that actually matters but the absolute fantasy they all peddle " i'm staying born-again-virginal and pure til the angels mystically guide me to my next 'husband's front door... "
in that particular situation fair bit older, immeasurably richer...
but not exactly long lastin'
nor ever real.
Except for the crèche fees later on.
Anyway back to the point... NO SEX PLEASE EVER unless for some kind of grift? in desperation..i know not as never even mentioned in regional conversation
(unlike Europeans especially frogs mention it just enough to make you at ease with even their rabid dogs - thats from a recent madone communique - another day)
and thats why ..in fact i am surpised he hasn't taken it down yet self censoring a simply superb song that always makes me grin
a genius of kitchen utensil double entendre
all the rest of them jjust obsessed with kitchen utensil 'one up on you Miranda' - ahhahh now that has about ten dimensions i can't yet allow comprehension
of
anyway back to the ONE and only suspected bit of mating behaviour, seen...
and i felt very sad for her the ex wifey as i saw the most ridiculous ultimate little cliche in progress...
that day cycling down meanderin' around Presters high st about as small street as poss...
god im in such a good mood its time for some remedial Boss
yes in HIS year!
made whole by..." PATTIEEE! "
yes so in the formerly ferk off with your silly Camden ways region.....
there was one i had noticed she must have had a bit too much mush one eve and lost her purse...
about 23 and those ridiculous flouncy Doc martens midsummer...
the usual feathery dreamcatchers finned onto every externality
one only feels pity
I mean those fakes the 4 Non's pretendin' Camden market when in fact created for her in downtown LA
the whole cliche
Presters had managed to block until that finest summer
just her flouncy no Glastonbery left
what a bummer
But that day...its still seared into my REAL pity circuits, inner eye....
one silly old never-been 'rockstar' well into middlin' fifties
stuck inside of Presteenager parked her
self next to him....
and the look in that dark alley
infact do ones job right 'n propper even Bruce Inc can't manage a video that's undammaged
by cuttin off the end
poor AI it'll never end
as it never began.....doin ones simple old fashioned job of collecting good media now'n again
anyway i need and have earned DANGER CASH relating this at last
The really quite old, never mind 'has', never-been, pretend rockstar
is in the darkened alley [midaft]
the way he's looking into his poor lost marooned 'groupie's eyes...
and shetoo her ashramania reflected back in his pools
of nothing but one thing on his mind....
at least i saw sex maybe once maybe about to 'appen...
but i do hope she's recovered from the ultimate cliche
that in rural lands was never meant to be unless in HAy
but then there theyre all too busy griftin' to afford the ridiculous Primrose Hill,
adjacent rent)
Anyway back to stuff - please note the above in brackets that has meaning - not one bit of interest to me
now in the sales pitch they are called 'rainbow stamper pens'
It has not gone unnoticed the hilarious end of an era ...of ocd
except it was far far worse an affliction
than some DSM bad job concoction of what could and MUST only ever be Understood
I did...as i saw that particularly English (no disrespect to the pestilent bits round the edge as they never had this edge)
From about 37 or eight years ago....
It was that moment.... when every girly's place you would visit London town...
well unless full on fabulous pop-tart, even pay-as-you-go
or secret junky, far to sane to bother
with their latterday or thenday zeitgeist
MY desk has so neatly laid out Paperchase...
I am IN CONTROL!!!
of every errant word or idea... and unless you are me, off you go
of every errant word or idea... and unless you are me, off you go
which is of course THE cause and effect of every single Gabor adjacent label, sickness, and bit of BPD insanity
