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
notes just from thistermorn but only about the lasterdec
yes Brian Lince i wont ever forget him exactly the same body language expressions as lovely Mister Laurel....
dead so young
every time i hear that placename cant forget how dumb boys can be even him... and how lucky i was to actually change
my profession
ohh woe is life where they still trade on what they were ...
then down South or hahh hahh its 'up' from here
rather than let go fully into " embodying" who they always really were underneath cos an alcy dad even hero Dambuilder ..damnit . often does cause you to be new ... think for yourself. As i saw and read ..
but it was that exact month... sept 76
some of us watched the BBC and a truly fabulous real moral crusade was aired..
whilst on ITV .. the artless problem, began...
imported from Yankland ...
and poor lass she lives on..'it's ..money that explains, all...
culture matters.
meanwhile a month ago something started.
And i know it is written up well.
But it needs an 'owner'. Not me...
I'm the wrong sex.
But one thing i hope is as sure as ferrits are, is that a propper "humble" country lass knows full well doesnt matter who came up with a great idea...
only tomorrow always matters...
especially when you have two such splendid examples of, why.. it matters. Kindof perfect as they are but my my the forces against a natural education are more than extreme they are total...
But even BREXITY suzi does agree ...
there's one simplest future 'political' policy
her lot aint got a cat's whisker chance even articulatin'..
and if someone did;
hmmm it may make some real way way overdue ' change'
so, years of listening to these dull fake lanyardists even your so called poet Lorriet driving his fat dull garish lorry through a great poem, On caring about the environment, and wordpolicing the word he indeed the useless lorriet personifies
along with Banksy
the fake daughter of ' them', bourgeoisie Kate Temple...
Mister fat Fry ...
all of them who gather at modern day festivals as poetical rockstars with cowardly Bankman hiding behind some fat agents skirts or in his case an office full of junkies ligging up his prices ( as was revealed in their own words) for so one dimensional cartoon garbage that never highlights HIS waste of good... paint or walls ... each some bit of muvva nature should only be wasted on real art that points at his neighbours before😊ðŸ˜
oops typo .. blaming always someoneelse ...on the other street of biggerwigs....safely not next to his own front door
and🥳
oops that was a typo also
all the women they use to lanyardate the language as they do nothing ever but hide behind some fat bossyboots who would sell her hedgehog rescue service to the highest bidder sooner or later without a stipulation: it continues, always
an immediate instant poem as he is on ... Unable to bravely write some art that goes further than Larkins brave attempt
anyone who sends their kids to a uk school where people like simon Armitage
In fact the real reason is the younger so called educated lasses
(who were always meant to be the more 'mature' and educated properly)
weren't told by their dreadful dumbed down and so quickly chatterboxin' with nothing to say so called teachers, why Silas is in fact the best and bravest book.
that 1840 dodgy Wutherin' book... almost all of even dodgier Dickens... is about the posh lot... blames obvious higher powers... the gentry or at least their laqwyers..
Whereas Georgie girl in 1860 told the tales that mattered: the shabby little curate and local not-very-bigwig...
The ordinary just slightly upper yeofolk.... whom one and all were thoughtless creeps ... and even if slightly romanticisising the lower orders among the yeofolk ... there can be no other parable that quite sticks it to the heart of the heartless self centred self aggrandising rural nobody, petit bourgeoisie...
And i am quite sure she knew a few if not still lived among them infact did so say the history books...
pissed straight into her neighbours' fancy plantpots....
But no latterday so called educated toung woman has been told that it is a noble act that may just save the hedgehogs too...
And thus if perchance met upon landlopes and jested with ... would run home to mummy or pater up there in some JP morgan retreat upon them cliffs " mummy i met this horrible man when wanderin to get over the lasterketamine.... and he said that you as you are one too a proud NAzi Trust lanyard weilder..!! ....should be drowned in their vile zyklon .. Bea killer ..."
when the actual face to face version started with smilingly and wistfully the actual conversation went: " speaking figuratively, and even if i am 100% a pacifist and turn-the-other-cheekist.. sometimes i wistfully wonder if they .....should be drowned in their vile zyklon .. Bee killer ...or thats a cartoon version i wish i had the skill to make myself alone as someone has to say something honest about the reality even if its rather Alice Through The Looking Glass....or Animal FArm or Lord of The Flies...or in fact all three put together in one divine comedy as if you dont laugh at them, well you cant ever be effective in changing it.."
And also for future clicks...as soon its time to get to the man who SHOULD have noticed this, so close to his large flashy 'nature' exhibition, publicly funded....
Who so wonderfully performed into my chronicling device his true self...and it will be funny to see if he tries to sue...
soon
either way till be good for a reader boost..
Especially as I am the lucky one i know exactly what i am doing with every moment the rest of my life...and for whom. As only one of them was so wonderfully openfaced about the ivermectin... oops better not use that word again or the Oggle will mark me as some kind of conspiracist or otherwise utter neurotic...
propper country peeps have disease death all of it...in perspective...
And thus are the only wise ones, but even them even me qa bit... dont let our 'core' be as rocklike as we are ..in 'public'....
thats all that matters as i know when perspective on so much is necessary or ....
(as i said to her the truly fabulous older one... " i think only a **** may reset their values.." but we dont say that until after it, and there wont be any after it as all my life weve known so grow up and be next is what i say but they cant)
god therell be so many typos.... thats what you get when not one actually offers any smallest bit of hospitality.... and its so chilly gotta write so so quickly then close up to save every miniwatt or battery
and the one with her 25 year old lass i did enjoy and learned so much from on xmas day even said in front of her, enjoyed " i think we'll take you home with us and have you at our xmas dinner....."
I do hope her lass realises " flip you cant believe a word that comes out of my ageing yummymummy's gob ....even today an invite to the big annual feast.. she just says things only to please..people... and then forgets them the next millisecond as if never said even with such a beaming smile us three alone in this cold lane"
A few days ago: " since the year 2000 fifty maybe seventy five percent of hedgehogs have disappeared.."
well they haven't disappeared their mums and dads died
to quote the NAture Trust chappie " ... well its likely to be pesticides... homeowners and the like still poison them either by direct use of poisons they nibble or through the insect life they poison that the poor Hedges then nibble and die from.."
Factoid: what is a latterday Nazi?
So if we go to towny philosophy Animals and Meaninghttps://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002nv8g a weekago, well rightly animals are creatures too, and as anyone who lived with them fifty years ago for some years firstly in a rabbit breeding operation, and then latent ferret, then..until the ferrets escaped one night due it being my fault... and no more bunnies left my ohh my ...
but that's where an actually 'present' parent would have been handy - to have second sigh foresight " ehh if you keep the fuzzies there and that lock isnt made so it fastens proper if you arer tardy in the fastening of it .. they're not far from your dozens of bunnies.... and nature hasnt taught them yet to be all meaningful to each other and thus it would be really sad if you popped in one morning before school and discovered that there are animals which slaughter all they can ....for ?? sport ..? ehh the freezer? who knows,.. but it won't end well.."
so ferrets one can't call NAtzis as theyre not human but i know a good definition of them...
Thing is these southerners i didnt know how almost every ex High Court lady judge or Monsanto director and there will be many a JP Morgan ex theretoo as JP the largest employer in Dorsetshire... i bet many 'retire' down here...
to get the ultimate lanyard slash trusteeship...of 'trustee' on the NAtional Trust pages
whom any real parent or countryman shouldnt trust to keep a pen load of cousin Nazis safe and not endangered..
As these pages - even if 18 months ago, have film of in fact number one Nazi - an allowed term if the BBC rightly give animals 'rights' of a certain personhood, as yes anyone who has lived in the land in their youth knew decades ago...
IN Cornewall's top 'nature' places - Cot Valley, (large supposedly 'wild' areas) and as the local lying tourist pamphlets advertise the next door Kenidjack VAlley 'natural jewel in the crown..., of pure nature'
The NAzi Trust - nobody else .. them NAzis actually were spraying day in and out over six weeks spring 2024 - a team of two men day in and out... spraying those two valleys with.. Roundup Professional
truckloads (i have video evidence of some was put here briefly not having anyone to watch my back iots dangerous as them lanyards are ten times more dangerous than any thuggish sprayman)
passing yeomman [now i know and love that word] " so young chaps just out of curiosity what are these 50 gallon drums on your trucks filled with..?
" Roundup professional.... not regular Hedge zyklon but the pro version"
"hmmm.. is that still legal?"
ohh its banned next year but we still have huge stocks so.... and our trustees are most cost efficient .. watch every penny.."
so that's what her kids need to know....
But that's just the start but it MUST be happy ending!
All you want is a few days a week honest work to pay for the ....
thats a point so many weird little magical faery stories to go back to, she - The Bush, doesnt know about the little miracle fix in July ...
i kept it to myself.
She had other things discombobulating her fine mind....
BUT that fix really was a weirdly ultimate one.
And back to the matter of "prejudice" referred to a few weeks ago...
Time to knock that awful Blanchett creature off her dodgy perch...
As sorry there are real 'prejudices' and when her hero is so weirdly sidestepping his own true genius daughter...well i notice!
Its been in drafts a while catchup time
i mean no skit seriously THE purpose of all that 'inner' 'work' it seems nearly all of them are working away at endlessly so most of em dont have time to landlope.com the hills three times a week keeps the doctor away never mind your bum in far better than average condition as i was told all summer ... all that "centred" zenny stuff and her crap book on "wintering" is to actually sort your fizzy head out so that you dont leave everything behind everywhere you go....
As was seena decade ago
in lasterregion
failed!
If i could get that into a painting or 'installation' or photo exhibition ive EARNED my Turner just by
persisting
this far thus far.... into meeting the only one who may just have the fine ordinarily bobble hatted head to pass it on to hers....
i guess one is true to her ... spoken self ...well i knew she was 100% straight up the moment i met her!
that's all that matters what in lasterregion i would call "friendly farmer finger.." two meeting head on in a small road that one finger of appreciation...
a full wave is nicer and a perfect way to end a finest few weeks but its the cold stares of so many blessem .... one really does worry why they came to their not-quite-so-paradise
of a wonderful ten years back in the saddle even if as a metaphor it will hurt all the great majority who havent had to learn what real parenting is...ignoring the bluehaired townbred lanyardists whom ... im not stupid.... dominate and will have dominated you or your kidstoo....
but it doesnt mean a REAL story of really getting back in the saddle might not one day at least make you think....
so, just yesterday. To begin.
Backwards
or maybe Proustian snapshots of time... just randomly scattered for posterity. I do know nobody has material like my last ten years. I know for a fact.
As they didnt have my finest guide to being educated when i was a youngun, eleven and on.... the gentlest one ever who despite being Godzilla of a man, always helped ease my foot back into the metaphorical stirrup...
As we did our jobs building the fences (that i saw a decade ago had lasted nearly fourty years ... thats real pride and knowing when you have the humblest ever truly great teacher...)
But the fact that lasteryear has been the year of the ultra gibber - the omen with their jobs they so need doing tell you you are great at them and then just cancel on a whim...maybe they lied about the money they had to pay for all the next months work; or whatever .... or maybe they really are so mad they can't stand a man who just methodically plods along her ..... funny thing is there is almost always a pattern: daddy's land....
maybe daddy hadn't been quite the 'hero' they like to regale you with tales of.... and when someone really does dilligently plod along and love their land...
it 'triggers' some.... stupid feelings?
I know not but one astonishing thing i have learned of 1/4 decade in the Southlands which is precisely the opposite of what their whole business model seems to be in fake workshops fake 'journey' books (in a land where only 'service industries' are maybe even 90% ) ... is that they all NEVER ever express their real inner truth or real feelings...
Thats what i call a Wasteland.... how fabulous to have discovered the 100% guaranteed cause of their stupid End Times...
Really, the moral of the story, is that sadly there are two of us... :
Those whom have been stuck a quarter of a decade ...
and i didn't really understand that stuckness until meeting one not stuck.
Just one!
Who had real conversation with real feeling about getting back on one's horse.
Now of course as the world never mind YUK became so so towny self-pitying and (as we agreed on our lovely walk yesterlunchtime, and this time I'm not to "be shot") 'melodramatic', as that is the townsfolk psychological 'setting'.
Unlike the inner setting, so lifetime-intrestingly seen once again on the winterfest day (as really after the thrid reencounter yestereve i can't ever use their name day ever again not out of anger me i never am but really.... really... to quote it never having seen it! thats what i call sadly cynical) , nearly fifty years on!
And then those whom are the majority created by the nervy precious townsfolk who started to see 'getting back on one's horse' as some kind of emotional sleight... a sign of secret inner child abuser
In 2004 i even stood up in a courtroom having learned by then no lawyer woman or man was any kind of a real human - the only one in that room who was was indeed Wales' 'first ever black judge' and that's quite something as one thing for sure about all provinces is they are 200 years behind the rest of modernity...
[him bouffanted - highly paid on YOUR taxpayer dosh, Dominic blessim ] " ehh your On Her.... we have had a report in from the mother that he did knowingly subject his child to growing up by dint of her falling off her little nag and not feeling great at all about life, or continuing her once a week riding all the tramp could afford.... and he forced her neigh your on her FORCED her back on crying and wailing... wer rest our case.."
" ehhh right you know i don't respect anyone here even you matey up there that last statement in calling you 'venal' [ the worst insult you can publicly accuse any judge of being JUST FOR FUN!! country peeps know words are often just for fun...actions are all that matters..] ..if i can tell you a little story....so mine lass .. well by now six is a good age to learn some reality... and she has a lifelong lovely close warm relationship with our friend Tracey who was the riding instructoress known her all her life as humble as me both of us could never afford our own nags in fact Tracey used to clean houses i treated myself to a cleanin' lady, her, for my 40th and then realised well i get acvtual pleasure having no slaves only ever doing my own dirt... anyway mine lass always loved her day in the riding ring with Tracey or sometimes Becky THE ultimate born-on-a-nag lovely woman bosslady... she always their slightly special celeb kid and they never judged as they knew mum never even deigned to see her own lass bouncing along .... always just dad coming up religiously once a fortnight all i could afford...
" anyway yes one day she bounces off.... whilst Tracey true expert is leading her over some small jumps and its slightly more an awkward fall than the previous few little bounces... and she has a little booboo [ inserted for the townsfolk for whom all became booboos and itzywitzies] .. or hurt bit ... and for the prescribed amount of attention-time exactly two minutes most kids that age are programmed to need attention she has her stage centre performance....
" and then most lovingluy the two adults there who have to fight for the love they have for the little one still a tad weteyed....we so gently ease her back on and even do the big one ' you know the big girls that come here you love to watch galloping over the big jumps... well they know the secret that until you have fallen off ten times well you dont really learn to ride what are we up to now...ehh seven i think... '
" and that works....and within a few minutes she is back on and laughing ....
" but it remained still as a new psychological thing within her ... just a little hot and cold trepidatious... over the next few journeys up to riding lessons every other Thursday way up in the hills sometimes she would use her new RIGHTFULLY earned power over dad to kindof gain her equal power in the equation ... ' i dont know if i really want to go riding again ...'
" so one day .. it wouldnt be right to say bored of this new aggro as thats a parent's job to accept new periods of challenge... i concocted a cunning plan, i would even if i couldnt really afford it but a few times a year, hire two nags for an hour .. one of the little uns for lass and a biggish pone for me.... and as Becky knew i was pure Farmer Ridd, just from my bearing the day we first met... bulletproof unruffled by even a loony nag abused in its yoof, attempting to dominate with a bite or whatknot.... she always allowed me to go off unaccompanied dad 'n lass ona couple of nags up out onto the hills alone ...despite their insurance prohibiting unofficial riders going off alone ...me i dont believe in ANY training ever for anything even 'lawyerin' your Onnish....
" but on the way up to The Begwyns 500m away there was a small riding jumping enclosure and i said to lass 'its years since i had a little jump these are really small ones i bet i could jump them safely and not hurt myself ' and went in and lined up looking all worried and scaredy cat....
" and then trotting up to a pole on the ground i pulled the nag to a slight stop with the reign she couldnt see, and slid off over its front .... gesticulating 'ohh my god ohh i'll hurt my old fart of a self ' as i tumbled... onto the so hardground...
" and bang on cue young lass starts laughing and teasing and totally 100% 'gets it' - we are all equal lifes got its ups and downs and ... dad [acts] limping back to his nag and wiping the tears of pain gets back into his saddle....
" and the epitaph as soon as we get back to Becky's stables the very first thing of course she MUST tell absolutely everyone she meets even age six iks how her useless dad fell of his horse too!
"and despite what this parasite upon society Dominic here has told you, to line his pockets further with legal aid cash.... i knew my lass grew rather a lot that day.... and learned real life"
That's how you win a real test of not even 'strength' but 25 years of awful parasitism using 'feelings' as education when in fact its far more about real feelings which can only ever be learned DOing real things...
As one finest judge ever immediately knewtoo...
" case adjourned...no we wont be needing any further evidence thank you Mister Boothroyd ... when will you learn...we're dealing with reality in here not made up nonsense to further delay what you lost and he won, a year ago! "
thursday ...its only a joy that ones head is always screwed on....
My fault for not following the screwholes tues... as the rules, groove .. or pattern was categorical, no more new encounters after Boxing day.
An unintended unsentimental fullest education one hundred percent complete that ( as she said yesterlunchtime )
' historical' day
but not for the reasons she in her eighth decade ( put that way as its an insult to draw her with a brush her age as she is twenty years younger in real life striding behind her) said, although she is the one you would wish all the younger ones met and got to experience...
because one can have a proper real conversation with her.
Anyway the rules, i met enough people for a lifetime by that last day and only wished a few reencounters.
And just like that, the first the most absurd coincidence almost ever... a three for, one, day...
right that new word and back to prejudice and especially what George Elliot nay think about now and . ... this remarkable piece of culture that not only created my head but ...
... even if the first seemingly fine mum of that river, seemed to care, but huffily ignores
her kids got the GREAT cultural item first...
the one that made me... just be normal, and stick to the rules decades known, and know what propriety means; caring only about what next and passing on the good information you have learned.
And above all i know I was educated correctly by a little great culture, from the first great 'humanist' book to Silas to the few Wendy Perriams who didn't get ruined by showoff cleverness that amounted to nothing at all - all English so called men writers display like tailless peacocks, good for nothing but the pot; sadly for Mister Amis's grandkids...
MY daughter has to have at least an attempt at Ragged Trouseredly attempting to bring alive, why her river went dead... the one 'one' would have thought could be saved just an itzy witzy bit...
And i know that only 'real' storytelling can possibly do that one day... I'm the luckiest person still alive my age...
Especially since post-'ego' the amount of times i have in writing to a fair few performative 'carer's said you can 'share' it.... a rather useful chronicle of all of them...how they failed... because of themselves.
There...not here... everywhere in UK dangerous if they think you may tell some 'truth'... funny thing as Mister Malle did in one line rather well describe: no not the 'damaged' - at least she kindof remained on 'side'.....
shame damaged peeps bore me to death, too, even if they can be relied on to not actually care about past footstampy moments, as long as one has learned to not care about them, ever, either, nor take them ever to heart.... i only like, normal. How boring am i.... perhaps that's what you need to have done areal George Borrow for so long...but only so my lasses lot actually have a proper record that may even engage, even be "what in earth is in the next chapter the silly old madman doesnt learn from his last one!"..one day, even if I'm long gone
That's all that matters - educating the next generation down.... why one tolerated it this far.... with sadly no real fun... only us Cider With Rosie lot
who lived that so many years in our very well spent yoof
even if the older one gets to feel so much younger one old hat matter is they hate big words such as that little one
free substack likely wonky audio ramble
"hubris" 29 dec ...but as usual loads of other cheeky bits woven in. All just part of a dull ten year odyssey - as 'vehicle', that turned out to have a happier than imaginable ending ... i like them
Anyway, all i know (add to The Bible on Freedom of Speech a few weeks back) is indeed having to self censor really hurts - its the one thing that is more than a 'phase' as so much human 'illness' turns out to be in time....
And ten years later at least having began the book of why the Wye within ten years of my lass dipping ger toes in it 27 years ago and " daddy they tickle" even if it couldnt be articulated for another few years, within 10 years all those ticklish minnows would be gone dead forever ...
but it's why.... ?
And it's not the much maligned chicken concentration camps but the lack of concentration of actual humans who cared well before they arrived on the scene and the local good ole boys profited in ways can't be spoken of as it gave jobs and beer money...
All the years of " i care" turned out to be only care not to offend the neighbours or slightly richer incomers who they may one day profit from...
But as always its those who set up their stall 'caring' .... were the worst offenders in that the time wasted on them, thinking they did ..is a great comedy book i know as good as Ragged...
if anyone still reads in a few years...
Must be done!
As i know who it's for....
meanwhile so so many little bridging bits to put in here and there is a whole new 'cause' page that who knows may be adopted by the one straight backed woman left in the land, one day...
As the one i challenged to a duel over 'feminism' ...her 'thing' to my end of year so bored with their bullshit.... didn't follow through its just comedy...
But soon there are to be the full interviews over a decade where in private so many express their real views..one hopes?
Thing is.... there's one more last audio in the can ... if only so many knew how so many others are just so unhappy....(almost fatally). even here in Paradise-on-Thames...
And maybe it is because they too have tpo supress their real feelings?
THE END to be continued as the real version soon...
when you've not got nowt, nuthing to lose, you lose the silly 'feelings' .... and a few locals tested over the winterfest, only one actually put her feelings aside and cared so as to actually care about their stream
Ohh if only we had a David Mamet here... truth talkers needed. But there's no hope. I do know who the only one is, though....
You won't ever know as the chronicle ended 26 Dec 1100...
and i realise now what must be done.
However i have though of a sneaky way to keep you coming back unless you're addicted to this baby food,
even then it's not too late to get fixed...
nibs what a silly name
only good oldfashioned nibs are mightier than their plasticene swords..
And i have mind sharpened for the rest of life, now... (with her conformation, i must..)
And now know what does need to be fixed... the biggest one of them all.
whilst The Source lot (the sixes) just vie for the most self pitying Pendle peddling nonsense.... to hex the six and a halves... (though they will never admit it even to themselves)
well - theyre unfixable as only reality nasty hard real life could fix, hers....
I mean for fux sake she had three mini Serges, in her front room, and two were girlies....
And her Serge had driven her a bit nutz with his big one...
SO Brigitte is forgiven her laterday
nutcasery....
or nutjobism
All i know she was the best job i ever did.
But driving (one headlight still off so i can't drive at night which is a good thing with all these 6.5 rated junkie wimmin around ....not The Lemon mind you....she is pure)
At way before dawn:
Yes even if Silas is one of only three i have read thrice...
And ALL English menritters (her schoolfriends) one saw through as vile slime on the bottom and top of the pond several decades ago... killing all growth within
Yes Wendy P and Rachel C ....
the only goodies and poor Bella Mackie in her good attempt, in How to Kill... we discover that all along her bonkers heroine had been directed...by a bloke
But then if Mister Rusbhridger (mine customer in person some years i'm a allowed to judge
the silliest books in history were his drug)
spawned, you you never had a hope
Now i know exactly my teenage blueprint.
Thing is there was second.
And that one simplest Mount Blanc,
peak and sleighing down the otherside
Even if Ethantoo as simply glidethrough
the drivethrough
of so much of Yankee drivein
And all along ...well
she gave me a Primo
The Wrench or was it Other People's Trades
no not his most gracious depiction of past events in If This IS
Simply the only other moment i went home.
The moment i met him up there
i was on forever the sunny side of that greatest mountain
Home run.
And of course she was stuck
exactly half way between what he Mister Big wanted from her
And his fantasy
she could never be
(even if wow having seen so many doppelgangers out on these Surry-in-the Hills streets
Its eerie the likeness..... even if not one know how to spell honnête et droit
and what the hat is for....)
But here's the real thing, the all of life one
As i observed and related yesteraft
To Suzi (the 'narrator' is in 'Omers dull first draft
and slagged off herein she's the 'case study')
yesteraft
It the whole of the last dull 150 years of history
i saw boxing day as if it was still eighteen seventy three
"It's about exactly you in your Surrey mamma's baby book
was it 1967?, still, today.
Your mum a six - exactly, out of ten
But them six and a halfs its that extra smallest step
maybe once a year up into the arse-end
[perfect vintage late 70s maybe eighties
before the filthy plebs got Easyjetted all over place littering it with their babycham and Brut]
'of the tally-ho off to see uncle Tarq in Tuscany
for a few weeks maybe even three....'
thats what sorted the sixes from them six and a halfs....
you poor sixes a dreary time in Le Touquet or if you're lucky, Normandie....
And i saw it is still exactly the same exact division no matter what your silly Nigel thinks
the sixes suckin lollipop spurs of them six 'narrfffs....
maybe they'll get invited to the once-a-year ball
or charity auction,
and no matter what they may state in 'public' about their love for vegan foxes
when the six 'narfffs declared war, via the odd seven or eight left
veiled or not ...
....luv ive never had such fun i meqan i couldnt do that ten year'nago
in the square in front of all gathered alligators and vicious sharks
chattin' up and making laugh chief be-veiled sexy Missus chief sidesadle prone Dominatrix which was exactly
what our private whispers in her nag's ears whispered just loud enough so mummy heard
and what a wink!
Suzi...... all that matters now for your 'cause' ...is what will your Nigel think..
cos them speeches for the cameras were Churchillian,
'sacrafice' 'martyrdom' i mean sat upon 50 grand worth of pedestel
i kid not ' we are now the opressed...minority..'
so you are a six... smashing Horrorfordshire huntspeeps wingmirrors i wont tell a soul
the six point fives declared their position, on the side of martyrdom....
and even if i became a one point five forever age about ten
only cos Olwen a one or even minus, was the only one with any fashion sense
of fuck-me Frenchieness
you know the six point fives and above have all the loot
and any sixes who turncoat they'll shoot
so its now nowt o do with me ever again i chose fifty years ago
its now only ...up to You..."
But the real choosy choice ....
As if by his Masters voice
Damn it i realised just the other day
Only one Eng-lite one i ever knew
would understand exactly every single unsaid word, that now i say
At my place of telling them THE story, and the two versions: one from the wonderful older one who wanders around with a javelin...ohh yes it is! i know here REAL 'belief' system.... " he didnt mean to abuse her 'twas an accident..."
And the other from her overladyship " nope... wrong he wanted to shoot them both...."
....no charge, even for the sound effects and 'ohh woe is me'. ...and extra modernisations - uptodatings, about how it influenced me ..(what kind of a coincidence is that someone put it up six weeks ago! in breech of BBC copycatfighting; who owns culture? no fucker in my book, i only ever use pirated versions real ones not the childmens that litter shitfilled Pastine Eastuaries too pissed to fix their boats up so turn them into rotting hulls and a campout with silly flags atop to ....to what exactly? all i know is of course she was ship-wrecked mentally by their whole absurd cartoon mentallity, and performative voodoo
so as not to have to clean their loos)
and still does....even today's indecent proposal; only a quick charge up.)
Anyway the 1%, as only the old with nothing to lose and no fake politeness we came to The Source of thattoo (this has been too interestingly exilerating even for me i thought i knew it all)..: " man... man up...don't feel sorry for yourself or somehow awry.....it's a bloody war to the death! of course you have done the right thing wasting three years of your life on a some little fake 'warrior'....all that matters is..... [ bowdleriased for now].... of course you were right... anyway there's no right or rong, man.... are you man or mouse....... there's only whom wins... the prize!.... "
Anyway....but talk about actual Christmas even if three days late for THIS gift...four beauties have been sent this.
ohh shit....sat outside the most romantic place in history of this sceptic one.... there are TWo in the queue.... number one the sexiest man ever in history him of Bees 'n THINGS..... the racially phobic BBC didnt even tell on him....
a TRUE actual Serbian "warrior" .. the one greatest genius of em all, after Colette and whats that other one...later
Engliterite go around hunting and torturing fur coats for fun.... only one ever earned her right to weild a big motherfucker of a proper gun
it it would have been a crime if Serge had't at least given err a little pat on err bum.....
+2
Serge Gainsbourg sang "Je t'aime... moi non plus" with English actress and singer Jane Birkin, though he originally wrote it for his then-lover Brigitte BArdot
( a never before in video description footnote: BECAUSE you have to EARN how to be actually interesting being nobody nowhere where nobody, errata no visitor, will say " you are so lovely living here in a [tourist] paradise..." it makes you so lonely....
***
add in
which is a non narcissistic LIVED experience fact - I was there decades ago doing a job i loved but hated as i knew it was a fantasy life - unreal, only real long lonely dull nothing, nobody ever saying 'you must be so lucky to have this life' - for their instgram of bimbile nonbrain, is real.... and every glam babe in London said " wow you must be.." and the simple truth is i only ever wanted to escape from them... but THEIR 'fantasy' indeed avaricious vampirism and inability to think of course meant one did become lured into thinking it was an ok life....sometimes... [as they can't think before speaking as among other things never read any great lit such as Silas - about them, not 'too', but especially....] ...just like the junk they leave back at home of their actual Notting Hill bedside table
And thus there are two addicts in that equation as anyone with a brain knows said so called women are as bad for you over a lifetime as their drugs... their interest "what a lovely healthy outdoors boys life..and up here in this heavenly place too" merely a version of "im so lonely and see through why i hate my life but cant leave it as i'm addicted to it but cant think of anything wise older bird to think as i cant think, im just a parrot, in fact the stuffed one mummy bought wityh the L'Oreal shares too but we lost it as we keep losing ANYthing once meant anything... that's our ..job..")
but Jane you knew it was an act....
if one can ever even know and English a bit
(but Suzi today has the info it all that's next is in her mother's 'baby book' i pondered over in 2020 despite being gibbed as info is SO much mpore important always when one has grown up - i think she will not disgaree)
Brigitte...in one word
"...non......"
could have saved a whole hour lastereve watching this truly superb REAL culture
never mind told the world WHY we needed her culture to fail to Miss Appropriate ours as we didnt ever have any ....
And Nige makes it forever.
Brigitte .... simply.... for once MAcron wasn't lying....
anyway where was i ohh yes can't say...
Four Beauties have been told where this is thistermorn
Two live within a km so of course will deliberately try to drown me innit...
Britalin any real writer artiste knows is only about two things..PR and property prices. Theirs..
One a 100km away.... probably has a long list for her wished for public back stabbing...
and the mostest... i guess i will never know.
It was bad enough having to sit aside this lovely side effect of all their compulsory status dogs... whist thisterbreakfasting on the finest simple fayre
But in one of the wealthiest most performative " we love nature" places... i can't say and never will even i think i lied to number one saying " only you will see this video".. well copy a few others in as surely theyre not all viscious tell tales... "nasty man in van trying to tell the truth about the whole of our paradise peninsula .." well they can't ferkin read if they do as ive no interest...
'twas 20 years of this into the river Wye despite Justine's new lying legal case blaming it on the poor innocent factory farmed chickies.... and Fergal and his flouncin...
this is real art that tells a real story even if its not the shit thats the prob...
ohh yes what's the 'divide' - well not one will ever take responsibility for that above whether pro or anti....
yes...her.... she so beautifully described ....nobody or about only 0.1% have one atom of imagination.... especially about what causes us to have been born in the beginning....
"no....don't listen to that awful German Eckhart this isnt about listening! its about DOing.... "
They didn't haver a 'piece of' by even chucking a cup of skinny latte my way
which wouldnt be included anyway as my buymeacoffee thingumy dotcom is set to strong and black and very Serbian proper stuff is the only way i take my coffee in a land of ... but theh Ive seen its all fake.
Behind every rhubarb flavoured Notting Hill cup of so called coffee with sparklies on top... its all 100% rhubarb.... in that below where the grinds are, it is exactly the same as it ever was; what is Britolin?
Ashram smiles (stuck on here with Araldite the upper class glue even if they or rather their interbred little entrepreneur Rudolph - in fact thats a tautology in that it means 'entre' just the same class who always had it and always will...to make more cash out of what was just fine several dacades ago put his irrelevant little 'high tech' swizzers in to rip you of wasting more glue than necessary..)
four rings compulsory (if you can't afford the antique landrover )
Anyway ehhh.... yes when the other version starts to drip drip drip and you can't even say to your girlfriend in The Priory " this'll cheer you up Cammy the cash i spendoodled subbing that chappie who needed a coffee well its gone 'n bugger me ended up on the besties list.... DAMNIT tho i wish i'd bought shares maybe we could afford the second year you need in here just to recover from mummie now we've done pater..."
Even if it's only her loot i want, as him there's no hope ever....
(and - my private business i know when she said in our first propper talk " you don't seem arrogant " i didnt know then that even if i did know then 'relative is the most important word'... nobody even a good writer and thinker such as err...could possibly KNOW what 'arrogance' one has to be measured against as every single one in this whole Pestilence Peninsula is a variety thats the real variety: it knows how to hide behind its antique landrover, even disguise of a bit of 'tally ho lets go....surfin like the indigenouses..maybe one will get stabbed in the eye by a walkers ...oops no thats capitol WAlkers' unnecessary walking pole tossing in the waves after she shouts at him NO Moth i wpont tell ALL those lies to pay for your next Rolling Stones backstage pass...'!...and we will be able to embezzle his fishermans cottage the one he hasnt sold off to pay for TArq's coke end of the lines...'.. even i didnt know what real arrogance was having lived among it two years the holiday version and three months the perversion version the real one.... so how could she have the first idea what it is.... their secret signs dont translate even into whatisface's code book the posh one ahh yes Peter Yorke.... would just love what he saw of late)
Anyway there has to be some radio silence now especially as i proved it to myself yestyeraft i could even if by accident: no more new random chats! none.... verbotten.... not even her looking like she's fallen out of Vogue's Christmas eve version held as a 'benefit' to the sex workers of Mayfair.... and only just got bored of it, being the star centrefold.... what a hat!
nope and she smiled at me a very openly engaging one as we passed in a very very dark privately quiet part of her walk home....nope! never
thats it
there is now only one problem it wasn't until the chat this morn i forgot there are about at least five major themes even if all exactly one....
seen in her spurs.
And the most emotive, Two Little Boys....
one, turns out to be the very worst gibber-liar peoplepleaser, in history....
and he was the just one notch down, that slippery pole, at first....
why of course he did. " simes i will think of a way to call her and engage her ..."
not. But worse..... a man lovingly tells you that he knows his own is a 'bimbo', and he knows full well if she does inherit the million quid offshore...
she will become the next level up... a monster
as he spent enough time with them, paying-as-he-went
just to use them most openly as extras in his lifelong porn movie
And yet....he ...even he my once close enough schoolfriend, lifefriend, is so arrogant... to be reminded of that 100% certain truth he 100% certainly agrees upon, by another man his equal, means...
a ghostin' too... thats what you call 'arrogant' and he didnt even go to private school.... but spent his life with the 'guns' who did
who own all of Narnia...and most of PAstyshire
period
thing is a i won.... its merely a case of its on average 3 degrees warmer here than pasterregion.... often five
thats all thats all that matters. 4ish during the day cant think, six or above all thinking is a pleasure....
oops back to meaning of life soon, being ive had far more functional temps than in lasterregion...
And only one person hoodwinked me to leave it so only one person is why im still alive
so ..... the next line is obvious, if you LIKE life which i just amunt sure the rest do....
even if there's a sequence i must remember but then as i remember almost everythin' even from that year ... i think the one her nanaboatee-a-docked.
Ninety two or three
thoughtbub "nevertheless.... theres only one i could say this to now ....she
would understand every smallest gesture nunace
caused her to have her Oxford 'breakdown'....
doubtless them not tryin' to fully interbreed into her plain lass pants"
outloud to onesself: " cmon dont you know by now..
[ the bloody sequence so
stupid Oggle definitely a bit feyboy 'ajacent' on drugs
put in "photo of a handsome man foxhunting"
and you get this proving that those so called "tech bros" are too palecheeked to want a real propper man nosing his slimey way between their pinched ones..
i mean you either get some really lost looking one just let out of The Priory for the day to provide EM Forster type of visual accessorisation ...or some pervey old butch one who may be whipping their bare botties later on behind the hedge fpor what theyre really into....i think it really does say all you need to know about their 'West' ... especially Surrey-on-Hill..
Anyway the sequence, i have a superb photo of a 'handsome' man on his horse white crevette silk cut in his hand... photo of a handsom man foxhuntingposture ready to hunt [ to the beveiled and she DID laugh and give me THAT pure S+M look theyre so practiced in " the only reason this was invented is for middle aged men to spend a day out with a tot in their hipflask
and totty like you!! with or without your 'discretion' behind the veil.... "
photo of a hansome man... i took fifty years ago almost to the day i bet as a spotty young real photographer with an eye.... in fact errata im not that old and bounced more km up in their overrun tourist park yesters than anyone else i saw...it must have been 45 or 6 )
.... i know exactly why he was dressed up in white crevette....exactly....
and every single one of them gathered 45 or 6 years on - i bet even the one token very well fed-on-venison or somesuch elitefood, blackman.... knew too
and not one second in between then and now changed a thing
other than their female 'supporters' audience are sadly even more angsty and unesteemed...
as the only thing they really want for xMaster is that which theyve been shown as as he....
hips that really....sway
in an actually desirable way
that can't be inbred,
especially when theirs are to truly cheek clench
best poise upon the Cheltenham or Harrow naughty bench
reprise
and theyve been OUTbred as not far off a billion clicks, does indeed mean
something
but all i care about is a private little personal history
of understanding and pissing on their faux history
even if its fun to be seeing it 'made' - for real, upon which i would bet my next ten years of most healthy life...
But you even have real history here
as i told whatserface Virginia artist 'mover' (moved me and i am persiterly cold most of the time)
shaker paintbrush at them naughty boys!...
In their actual territory...
i knew well Antibes, JLP
and just like here the first 'moment'
i set foot there age nineteen i guess
Immediately " acedia...nothing but their shiny sequin dress
and nothing inside.... run and HIDE
[in the hills... anywhere except smelly Grasse]
but how extraordinary
even then in nineteen sixty five
a sister!
(im am allowed to say as without one smallest scintilla of doubt
on mummy's sider my ancestor's shaggin the 'help'
my summer tanning thank you very much silver linin's
rather than her stupid " 'intergenrational trauma too! look at me!"
"look at me i NEVER ever burn out in the Saudi Arabian midday sun, no hat so i cant be an Englishman [even then age 18]"
every outbred smallest percent maybe by now ....five..?
Perhaps qualifies me to even use that one word he spent three years whippin my fiver percent Kunta Kinte
into chantin...
'my n* word'....
how absurd....
But they wont listen even the so called 'movers'....
There is no better example
in the INNER 'temple' of the slavemasters whitey hunters one and all
they once COULD accept the greatest art ever of all...
she's singing ABOUT them...TArquin louchely in the backrow pimms in hand
even Camilla with a propper spike in her stilletto before she chickened out in favour of the Mortonhampstead or Totnes magic wand
The real rich.... once allowed GREAT art to put a noose around their lank smelly shitstained dicks
and yank it.... hard..... looking him eye to eyepoppin....
genius, 'bulging'.... straight into his xMaster's collection
am i the only one uneducated ex comprehensive school peasant who KNOWS their job is to skewer.... and it will ALSO make them rich and very famous 250 years on... and is the only hope for their rivers and birds all owned by them rich... who NEED to be skewered.... its all that turns them on! and i dont judge which perversion is more just than another.... you work with facts not famtasy like Tolkein nutjobbery or even worse Gwerkian shamania.... as that one DID know the truth )
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