Friday, 17 February 2017

'And he had brass bands, innit....!'

god the trite crap that the in memoriamists come up with tell the fuckin story: even die hard heaviest metal fans I doubt would drown out that one it were playing on the system at Blackbushe 78 ... nor not shed a tear.
|Ehh up its that ..'..coom to a close...thats worth every tear in China and a few more real ones too.....'

'awwwhhhh....'

errata you see I may appear not to but I care in one way: Greg, not keith.
Other errata's lots of em: to empahsises, you have to like someone to pull their leg, or at least trust them too, to be the human they appear..'back to work' ....and relative is indeed the most important word one matures into knowing ' compared to others lass [in a Nukey accent] my... your a real person...don't matter how you ended up ear....we all have our curious journeys and crossroads even if no one in YUK knows the best one for the soul is to turn around...... its how yarr relative to rest of em tyrants lass....'

Tapes.....

I must get all mine back.....
One day they will make a fun diary....

Anyway what is so much more important apart from the fact that UNDER THE CIRX ...well.... my cirx are irrelevant although I know that 99% would have pegged out by now, its a miracle that five minutes after I close the lid the word comes back: silly me, moratorium...great word..... meaning no not for you or anyone else for that matter. Secret...private..... and if one or two over the years understood the meaning of I trust you what I tell you now is a secret, private well they would serve to have reduced confusion somewhat as there are rules, and the prime directive whether wonky machine or  victim of a dumb system is that having pledged to be in private session, that is it...it is a til death do us part thing, for good..... no matter the perfect skilled post modern truth or any other post imagining, interrogator. 'No comment...'

So, I lied, ' not very good blog'...... as in the playful alliterations and poetry...and so many hidden and ever so cheeky treble meanings (i could never do seven years ago) .
exactly. Why I hate (so called) The Left.... because apart from not having a  sense of humour and Daniel  running off with the STASI and they adopt a refugee and rename her Verity or something poetic.....
Ernest if it were a boy because they are all .....its justa  cover for inadequacy, and adequacy is only standing or sitting in fronyt of any so called 'other' and finding a bit of common humanity ....broken things are usually a reliable start as they are always present as a gift.... but you have to USE the gift in it all....I do...
As a 100% liberal leftie as against neo this or conservative that or I know what the left should be....and indeed within some of its roots there is pathos. Wry smiles should be the only real response...oops getting a bit prostletisish which is bad. Exactly, having a few days in your head on loop no matter what the equipment is up to something I forgot in the sublime sublimeness of a day is actually by Tapes.... and then in that little part of the tape at the beginning or end which cannot record anything because its not proper tape yet, just the foreword bit.... actually living in the true meaning of the very track....

But why one should really hate the left or as that's a hate crime, so we can't call it that, so lets call it pity... which any vaguely wise person should know is far worse, beyond so called 'hate' in its net effect....
Pity; I mean yes BBCofficial pity bias in that they neglect to ever mention some fabulous babes at his shadowy table... Champion.... couldn't bear her despite her gorgeous grey hair (i never yoosually look anyone up myself, after all you cannot ever get their true stories...) but what a truly magnificent story that would be if she told it fully ~ husband battery it would seem, and gets to be shadowy one in charge of abuse..... wonderful a HUMAN BEING! and i thought she was a robot,,,
Emily I mean she is utterly magnificent such that she can be forgiven her chubbiness ...

But what interests me, is that indeed pity the left... because they are simply wrong. Apart from anything else no one ever listens especially the experts so called and never mind telling anyone ever anything useful:
The science is categorical neigh the last few years has become a Champion of all Categoricalness, in stating that good sleep and sunshine make you a good citizen ~ may 'cure' any ailment, certainly alleviate your own bit of strain on precious so called resources....
And even fuckin Emily wazzit~Bronte had her Cathy getting out in the sun in her wheelchair recovering from her own pityful foolishness or just bad luck to get the love bug...
But, and i 'work' with as in care about and go where few would go whom arent paid ..to their front porches to check they are ok etc.....over the last decade quite a few  younger folk for example with sadly serious situations. And i do not need to ask: 'has your overpriced likely locum so THEY CHOSE to have no accountability and get paid twice the going rate and get lots of holls expert medico  mentioned at least THREE times a meeting sleep yes is so priority but ESPECIALLY in the likes of february if you can get half an hour in a sun trap when it does shine and thats what BBC weather is for..planning...your actual 'cure' guaranteed so says the science to often be statistically better than the so called acupuncturist or other weasel seller....
No, Mister Corbyn....wonderful wonderful inspirational stuff blah blah..... but until someone has the guts to say I know what you know well ...or maybe you dont because you arent reminded each time you go anywhere near your so called expert....  yes you will fail your medical, on stupidity grounds....

Never mind 'preventative' ...

No I know...because i watch.... and roam a bit.... unless their traps are about as private as is possible to be without bashing a hole in the coal shed so a ray or so can get in yet all else be obscured..... all of them are indeed cheating the taxpayer out of its criminal proceeeds....

And my little ....

(by the way this is all just sincere waffle...... define inspiration: most sincere as well. A couple of days ago the old bag and I locked horns......her with her Maggie smile.... to go with the outfit which is so one hundred percent Margret indeed the same age..... now, at last after quite a few loving battles this last year her and I have ....well, rephrase, I have seen her human common ground a little island in her raging river of anti leftie bile...... which is she cares about one thing. Now..it so happens that certain undercover investigations quite unintended earlier in the year took me to the FACTS of why local supermarkets are trying to starve the poor underclass who cant afford the bus fare to go and get a lower costs elsewhere....
So ...I was humming and hahhing..'should I or should I not...... no way, no true allies and moral support furthermore there is no way i want to take on any local caring about fuck all roll....furthermore I am seen on an old rusty bicycle, or even ....walking! ... and am thus despised as either some drug crazed likely rapist or in fact an environmentalist whom may indeed walk the walk.....all 2 of us for many a mile.......and thus hated even more .... (don't believe their Facebook posts it is their subconscious that matters, the bit set to default: green = they want to ban my car)... which i care not about in one slightest bit, but utilitarian politics = there is no point putting head over parapet unless you have a few allies and as so many times earlier discovered the disdain gets in the way...of what you need allies as Helen of Steely Troy etc discovered or at last some nominal   super goody goody no one can argue with or gossip about behind their backs....
So having seen that Maggie indeed shares a common foe..... even if for perhaps opposing raisins.... in my own case I actually do care about those too stupid to listen to the simplest instructions in terms of how to protect yourself a bit and retain some rights now and again..... ('hmmm what are the Loach sort of rules here....? ' what a gorgeous moment of shared culture, and desk..... who cares the why or why not)
Anyway here is the point...I have some info I have been sitting on some time that in fact I had decided to keep to myself especially when the one who's sort of job it is to represent fair views swore secrecy some time  down the road...  that defies all so called 'ethical' they advertise their bank balance on....
But.... yesteraft inspired, on my free buspass back home actual afternoon sopent free cheaper basics shopping the local price of moggy food of course has gone throughthe roof....despite their promises to me: 'hmmm... io should do it.... I think Maggie and I have reached a point of truce so politeoy in that she kniows I am no fool...maybe she can understand the words, no luv i dont want any part of your gossip or name or nor you mine.... you already have assumed so much and will again....but we have a shared enemy...
So look if it came from you and i have the evidence.... at how the Oops  made a bit of an error telling me that their so called local prices were actually quite deliberately fucking Kensington....well maybe those on the wrong end of a Loach movie may indeed get justice, rather than absolute starvation..... nothing to do with ANYone else just you and I...even if inspired only by ... well I can certainly never ever say unless she wanted to make millions from the Screenplay
.... you are old enough to no longer care why or who or that each day may be last but.... perraps like me you could be lucky enough to begin a little revolution that despite its littleness in fact one thing no one ever ever could neighsay....as they knew right from wrong... after all I have canvassed many just in passing and even the chubbiest County Seat despises their regime..... but as long as one thing.... I will never tell where I got the info from and her excellent summary of the rating system that was changed ix years ago we at the cheap end, elevated to South Ken..... and will share with you as long as in your own interest because time is the only precious resource and even I do not want you to have one iota of yours wasted  which it would be in the bad energy of others assuming if you said it came from me....'
Hmmm... so just like that even if never got to the art house screen....I changed my mind. Yes I will...
Moratorium. Although even more moratorium to the gates of the crematorium itself. I would never say the completely impossible smile that in fact launched my ability to have the strength of something or other...to bother to deal with she whom will be intermediary....because at last we found something that 100% we are allied upon.....
Work with people's common interests. Full stop...sadly the left with their narco terrorist traits cannot ever do. Wghich is why poor old Ken's movie misses out a huge huge chunk even if yesterdaft was so gloriously exhausting from such fertile imaginary impossible organic growth from only roundup and floursecent tubes,  i didnt have the energy to keep my promise to be together at the screen that night.... But ...
Anyway yes thats the REAl problem with Loachian leftie stuff in that you have to have POETRY in what next ~ earnest is just fake and shorthand for not seeing the possibility in alliances even with the very heard of the Lubyanka if you knew her story and maybe ...well who knows why that job.... and as everyone Ive met for yonks except myself has huge difficulty explaining why or especially what they really want... generally reciting something out of the self improvement section of a very very bad library....or off radio 4.... just as fantasy...
Yes... poetry..... and you have to twist the fates and some sections will be so lovely that even Silas himself would have to wear sunglasses (still my definition of pity ~ anyone that wears them....as the science says various things about never mind seeing more ehh internal systems we do not yet understand prevent cancer and are trigger warninged through the unblinkered eyes...in sunshine...)

So what is that one line, apart from rather an interesting discovery live in action being i never think before the battle with the broken keyboards.... love = well one form no matter how potentially dangerous, no luv, i have done the work such that i have figured any conceivable way you could hurt me and because i have [you in this case being any old Universal Pute or anyone else for that matter] ....even if you were in theoryu my worst enemy pencils sharpened to stab in my poor hurting gut...... nope..... I am free and thuis at the best service i could be...under the cirx, because there is simply no way you could ever hurt me.... that eeds work on.
Meanwhile the really hard hard line anyone under 35 look away please, but its true.... from one day seven years ago the thrirteenth of feb toi the same one a few days ago... the honest truth is that not only must it have been so, there is no way around certain 'undeserved' boulders strewn in the path ...  but I would not have with this net effect the last few years...it any other way. Tragic but true. It 'taint even exorcising and last lingering so called devils nahh just foibles ..... Its far more just love... of certain things once less loving of.. and being less fearfully wary of a few deliberate blind spots..... But I aint saying because I dont want to give away any ending ,,,,,
Because it is all too good.......in a way that was never planned even if always 'what if' planned..... But that was the plan years ago, fourteen....  Full Monty, too absurdist really..... stark earnest Leftie analyses of this and that to earnest dont work because there was only ever one thing and thats spirit...it always shines through even if recent chats with dumbed down brown bretheren seem to show only avarice and contempt for the one person more than any who has changed all minds because two words sorry true we never put together even in my colourblind soul was 'Pakistani and the most magnificent inspiration ever' yet say so to her so called bretheren and they are only contemptuous.....so in fact ergo no point living


Anyway all I know is that a few rather lovely things most of which involve folk who are unfortunately in the longer run too blinkered to understands the Greatest Beauty in twisting our vain little souls around and letting them at least breathe a while, taking time out 'being' anyone... or ever knowing exactly which opinions are worth a twat....

have been in one way or other connected to a bus story...

And if the so called left understood that poetry is making so much of the meagre crumbs your so called enemy may throw at you .... turning every smallest chink to your sort of advantage or neigh true sincere enjoyment .. as i have done for years.... it is beyond so called 'silver lining' itself...it would actually cause to be a fuckin Loach movie that....worked.

This one goes down in Beautiful History.....



Anyway 'feelgood' fantasy movies...far more the national thing not me i like balance... unhappy endings.... and a GREAT movie unlike anything Loachian does NOT tell you what to think...even if Malick so on those clever smart drugs he think he can tell you anything vaguely valid and I am most Sewell erudite (thats what nuked Maggie...'look luv my ONLY guide in all of history and art is recently late Bri.... hero...its ALL garbage full stop oh hes a homo or was no relevance he was a genius and made it not about him by making it about him and his bravery to say what must be said..... i dont care what colour his rent boys were.... genius.... the only actual important person except Keithey for years...lost'n...good ! we are allies now on the same page cos i KNEW you would agree and there are many things more important than your fabulous performance and ego....'

and in fact inspiration..... neigh the most impossible movie rather good seen for a long time......oh gofd eat your twat its got Redwoods innit...and we know where they grow....
not that anyone else i have spread it to would get it.....his look at the end...you dont know if he is happy, sad, or content...we know he should be proud of himself yes.....

But like a great song it tells you a bit of what happened....but doesnt make much real sense.....i mean i'll be damned if i know what the fuck this one is meant to mean and thats the whole point even if it should be reworded ...fate, no ...a word the frauds can jump on who are too lazy to live life more open...to happenstance.... and thatsa  word that no matter how miserable you are or weary or even sick....usually makes you smile a bit...

And that there is a new VERSION...... well i never even meany has stopped blocking the hackers and so called thieves..... of copyright.....all that is good, must be shared, because peaceful revolution as we well know is needed.... funny these greens they hate folk so much of course they dont work together to ensure it is and is peaceful......cos the other way its gonna get horrid..... and i like life. If seven years like that cant reduce me to a shrivelled bitter lemon of a typically modern moaning song well.... thats all that matters. And that certain previously irky words....are to the beholder never again even to wonder at.....
Because that S word I am not sure anyone has got this far just enjoying it...it must be fully enjoyed first. She knew i was for real. Real enjoyment just is.  And that was from evey tortured angst and abysss filled moment from then....to now. Ergo... all of life is neutral even her.... Its just about what eventual good or bad it causes..... in effect. And apart from one little irrelevant issue others would term only disability.... me i wouldnt have all every second of it any other way.....


ohim not mad just been necessarily trebble tasking with four hands at once fixin loads of my stuff for months..... fakse memory i know i know theres a post about global warming 13 mths ago and one about x y and no z 5 years yet to be finished..i recall every second at laugh at each...especially the ones where so called foes would have it they had dominated proceedings.....cos everyone in, life should have one moment where a prosecutor is actually begging a mag or three for your release as clearly rather a booboo....quite deliberate and so funny daft ...and Mist Err Pee are... trying to get you darned for a poem i am so proud of because 7 years ago no way ever could i do stuff like that....must find...The Ring.....  so it is only the sincerest thank you....
And as for the reader ehh yiou know nothing  for all you know i could have just one eyelash left winkin at the slave texting this in by twitter otherwise on my deathbed and laughing at the witches dancin around wringing their ringy hands.....  you know nuth...in at all.......  i dont write about me... I am to quote yet another finest brain so wish they would stop moaning .... ' the sanest person i know' indeed about the only one and have been tested so The Mon cant have it both ways..... hmmm all i do know is random regret is no one to chat about Babette with... or .... Daniel...or how to make a better one. Cos they all get so so fearful, upset uppity, melodramatic ranty no.... thats what the Mon wants thats how it Maxim~eyes is its profit over all departments....  from those of nick to pills and all in between..... and have known DECADES from Mister Chomsky et all ....folk like me....
you just have to never ever take anyone so personal...and anyway only way you can ever win...is reserve your energy for the fights that matter. And you will remeber on the deathbed with a bit more than a wink  I have.









very very very fast forward....

Indeed ' off back to work... ' on how i manage to get over such a lovely human....

But in fact go back seven years.
Now as a bit of research I have taken to the (courtesy of one fine young woman inciting me to copyright contempt) free internet movie occasional research...
There is rarely a movie i would seek out but Les Inscrutables is magnificent in every way even if i decry fast cars and fine dining been there done that so truly childish its to be left behind as you mature, or you havent....
And thats the tragedy ~ theirs ...not mine... I mean if there is 'justice' in this world not that I ever seek it except just time with a kid as paramount....  words are one thing (even if in my own case so Miss Interpreted as the opposite of what in truth its mad...., but  ... ending on the 13th february seven years ago (reasons for being green! part 1)....once again.... the female of the species why is it that ordinary human upset confusion and sadness et cet err herrr...always seems to translate into pushing down on the far right peddle.....  which is in fact attempted murder or at the very least something lesser down the steak and chips are down I certainly never have been stirred by any behaviour to ever ever put my right foot down over 55mph for 21 years so I am the lucky one... and that is the true definition of the soul and sympathy for it and all sorts of other psychiosocial things.... which mean I have no compliant...
But no these poor things who are always on the end of some 'wrong' behaviour The Mon loves to make cash out of.... well every single one i have known in some important way the last few decades expresses hurt or whatever by the one major cause of death in the 30 to 50ishes in my region....
Pity. But fact.

Anyway ... YUK is all I care about. The truth.
How so wonderfully apt and instructive.

me I would far rather go to the movies and be inspired. Or at least watch some good truths that Loach occasionally gets near...ish....
And one really should keep it not so'absurdist'  as someone quite wrongly called me five years ago....
Hovere look at the facts: Froggy crip movie....Intouchables . super happy ending; and in real life in fact Mister Crip has a new life kids and iof course there he was knowing a few years prior it would be UTTERLY impossible for that ever to happen.....
And the YUK version so pathetic i forget the name of it and shall not waste a second looking it up, even if for 'research' perps i did .... same handsom rich guy  .... fast cars.... 'love' even.... well he of course ends up taking the fast plane to Zurich...

And then we come to Roman....
Seven years ago sat watching it....

(oh yes how truly extraordinary...if i were a Pole I would simply be endlessly taunting '  i believe it even got into that truly dreadful, no good songs, violent drunken up all night which makes you vilent and drunken, and no REAL pathos La La......it is there in the utter rubbish newish arts house fancy pants telling us NOTHING about anything Malick... and despite no one answering a straight humble question even those paid to in Presteigne a few years back " so you posh musos...please I am a humble seeker of opinion on things i do not really know....is Henryk truly any good... I mean I could die happily to his Third...but I am here to hear, your opinion...." no..... Polish music is the best time has told,,,, made in the hellish arse end of all humanity Katowice no less....'

So, yes.... Roman, has his hero...well that is the universal question, who Mizz the heroine... if it were not that the Nazis [no t] maybe exterminated them and I am allowed to say this as in real life in my twenties several very best friends turb burglars....  I mean he 'loved' his interrogator...his enemy...  such that in real life he even probably did go around trying to save him from the revenge deathcamps .... in short, amongst ortend enemies, there be humanity....always. Don't ever take it personal and a good Piano can maybe sort out all that silly vain footstamping....

Anyway all I know...unfortunately....is the left. Being they have zero sense of pathos, humour, or humanity its all so fuckin black and white to my endless chagrin especially as they dont read any black and white and god Ive tried....to find common ground ' have you read any Pilger, he is grown up, rather than Klein the child.....any Primo...he is beautiful and has your answer..... or seen any Loach.... you will learn so much...? spesh from Helen vs The Mon otherwise known as The Steely eyed monster takes on Macthingy.... and wins oh yes she does....

But you also have to have a bit of reality Mister Loach.......

Which in truth describes the reason the so called 52% are so sad, Roman knows that its never  binary.... and even if I only made one promise yesterday I temporarily broke it as I was utterly in the most Roman Polanski Pianist and every bit of Impossible anything way breathless such that I fell of my bike in the dark and loved the mud that covered me sober stone cold warmth....

Anyway no one would get, clearly as its no longer in the CULTURAL blueprint...shared..... and i didnt watch 'it'.... even though he brought two so called opposing sides of the table together in shared humanity......

I couldn't... as i spent all afternoon smiling..... and told the gorgeous Immo immediately... (always tell your true stories even if to the other woman who you would happily run away from maybe thats the key to wimmin dont make em feel that unique....)

But that is all MINE.... a day impossible to make up, is mine.... I at last have found a secret worth keeping cherished forever .... such a perfect moment I mean i never get bothered about anything even the STASI.... hey only doin their job and anyway who knows what may come from it after all I am someone who just knew in 2005 a very High Court injunction shoved at our dinner table....'hmmm.... gosh, how horrid,,,,but I know a real Angel called Ian.... somehow i think we may use this one day as a true gift....anyway back to charades young lady and ferret hammocks...'

Reasons to Immo~great! .... you could not make a movie in Britain where...

Daniel is sat there and rather than fear or despise or some other negative emotion or be plotting to argue all the way to the ECHR which i hear IS going to remain hahhh hahhh I have one in name hahh hahhh.....looking into the rather gorgeous Maxi~meyes...of the Maxi~mum...  says,

' hmmm..... look I dont care who you are but at least we could have an intelligent conversation on some common subjects, when all the other so so so called intelligent or caring haven't even heard of him ranting on about some spiritual nonsense when they would not even know that the word sublime they have yet to define despite it being around hundred and fifty fuckin years or so...could almost be set here in this gorgeous moment.... when there is no enemy just the system ....
..... what i would really actually if i were man enough to answer your graceful question.....like to do with the rest of my day.... how about we go and see the latest Loach movie.....

 and maybe ..... i mean, if she could hold HIS hand after their time together........but thats getting a bit fast forward...at least we could have an HONEST and well informed discussion I am no radical..... i like truth, which is maybe the definition of caring a bit even if i have totally retired from all public acts...
..and i know is THE only reason to have bothered living thus far, good conversation, no angles no sides, no desk as battlefield between combatants, and certainly not enough time left in the world to read the small print,....ever...

just shared intelligent human interpretation of the weird mess that faces us all....the only good conversation had for years.....in the last place where it would be assumed...'

which is what really above all the writers of the mindfulness cures are of course so blind to ~ you can never ever  see the path to the Black Swan .... what will change you. Ever... and all other such writing is simple fraud.


But that's just a fantasy, even if true in the sense of I spent all afternoon rewriting the better version in my head even if I haven't seen the fake one...inspired by an impossible encounter, that anyone else would only be negative about..... when in fact sharing cultural symbols is all that we really are....so in truth the most important anti~fantasy for many years..........what is not. Is that if someone had told me a few months ago that I would have on loop a ditty, written by some fuckin Swedish most anonymous quite obviously obtusely anonymous at that performance art levels,  knob twiddlers, meaning all synth music except for Mister Numan is rubbish,
And fall in love
With it....
and know it is the only so called tune that ever really mattered and just sums it all up so perfectly if you attend to the final credits as I implored her to...likely she ignored.
So what..... because at just after lunch time yesterday I think I came closest i ever will in life to actually being there on that boat next to him and..... on loop even if hers was broken ....
A most beautiful piece of music, is on loop in my head, as the soundrack to the most perfect beautiful little pathostic poignant human peaceful gentle radio play you could ever dream up..... the one i always wanted to make.
 And the fuckin tech let us down.....
But thats part of it....Avro or not.....
Anyway, it would always be entirely private. As sometimes only the torturer and subject know what is human. And perfect.
This, what is there when you close your eyes..... and Maxi~meyes... your response, artistically and indeed soul~fully...speaking....

That short far too short little quarter of an hour play forever so forever I will always be silent about ... is why I discovered something equally as impossible i would like....
a lot.
And just once in my life only ever. I shall say that indeed, I KNOW.... it is why.
But I never do anything....afterall in modern YUK...us chaps don't get movies made about us telling the truth. That it seems you cant hope for anything real cos half of em would have you arrested for indeed your thoughts..... and we have been there. And Mister Sorentino...he just pictures them all as bridges, and its their problem whether or not they are cross...or just go...with the flow.....





 I wonder...if I will indeed ever see her again......  my number is at the top. All else is irrelevant.  And there is a guaranteed fuckin quadruple Grammy never mind the fact that I am disinterested in copyright.... indeed words only disfigure. A perfect moment, that perraps was deigned to fit, the perfect tune for it. That your Loaches will never get....which is why they fail.  To work....








Mister Loach does indeed have his 'uses'...

Now, define lonely, which is a simple matter of long long time scouting and pilgremnaging around the so called 'progressives' of the region ~ define= free bus pass 20 mileish circumference...
I mean all those whom huff and puff about the useless county Seats (oh, HIM, yesterday...many years I have almost feared him...one of the very few.... and ...oh yes i interrupted myself how do you expect an On~err~or~Not to be able to justly give you even his so called ear if as realised seven years ago no one can tell their STORY any more... the simple few pages of human stuff telling some real bits to back up that actually you arent an obsessive nutjob trying to sue every interogator in the land and use clever new fangled terms for what harm they wish to inflict which even the less educated took to by default as soon as chatrooms were invented as I saw...and despaired of..... no change
In other words I often have 'empathised' with the so called enemy.... I mean if they did have a heart you at least have to give it s simple reason to get tugged into action.... they can't mind read.
ANyway Universals, (lots of parallel themes have come together in the last year) and i think the main one must always be 'cultural touchstones' or in plain old fashioned non jargonising ...things we may have in common to talk about.... because they matter. A lot.
I mean i even goyt the moaning Jumbo pilot recently to adopt my (minor reservations) suberb new find... because it gave us a cultural touchstone in common... yet would the 'progressives' listen ....as in ' you desire his friendship, he responded to X so here is the link ..'
But even more important there is no hope when several years..... lamentable but just so.... there are a few; just a few.... and one I met three years ago and knew immediately he was one to work with just a bit.... and it has been a work of art. Patience and poetry.
yet when the moment came ' I suggest even if you know that I so rarely do that's almost an "insist" you now start with Ken on Helen....  
' for several purposes even if myself I have only really had the internet for a year all previous iterations despite the lying libdem's campaign pledges so slow unusable... anyway I have been doing a review ~ a bit of curation..... and sat through amongst other things all the Loach stuff and you know if you want to understand YUK well the Helen and chap vs Big Mac is a superb start [ but NOTICE ~ the On~Her.... she actually has a doctors note off sick with understandable exhaustion all that room full of legal books...it is a so called legal case been going on years.... no hurry as its already about the longest ever trial..... she is clearly doing wonderfully, asks his so~called~ship for a few weeks off, with a sicknote, to recover from near breakdown....... and the nasty bastard says no...
That is YUK the real version..... and ...well.....

But when your one of a few but greatest hope and Grasshopper self confessed thinker and him requiring change and wishing to seed it, cannot even manage when link provided to do one smallest honour back talking ones digital advice... there is no hope.   And only sadness.

Anyway fast forward through a lot. (hahhh hahhh i mean how purely sublime even if thats cheating because it is such a difficult word and as with so much the foolish English will look it up and see some Victorian bloke atop a mountain being jealous of Wordsworth who didnt really get it either....  or at least it neeeds updating.... and a good dictionary has a range of notions. And i was in the past scared of it...)
It is the wrong usage, but ' ehh well I am meant to be showing I can't think... hmm ... oops indeed ergo I am thinking upside down.... bingo' words /effect....should have been verbatim.
Anyway lets keeep to the only thing I really care about which is that in many gentle conversations with the so called 'revolutionaries' the local version who read all the progressive mindfulness books and lots of Gladwell no doubt..... ehhh.... loneliness define, and I ask! ' so have you heard of Mister Loach  perraps..?.I mean never mind Cathy, there is his Spanish one fabulous actually and then the Irish one is very good on the inhumanity in all of us..... '
Just yesterday I asked three people.
And it is only the High Priestesses of Their Revolution that i am interested in...being truthful about..... and not one ever ever has.... never nada....
In short, ehhh excuse me the latest Hawk book clearly failed to inspire anyone... never mind no one to talk with! talk just a bit of shatred cultural reference....

oh yes the wimmin thing now no way are they bi~planetary or non binary lost in space but ehhhh.....
Now i simply never ever not only care about anything written online but also never seek attention or readers....if I never meet anyone even in the HIGHER echelons of the so called Green party who ever takes the time to understand our society or has watched a Loach well thats how you end up with Natzsis... as narcissistic as those they make it their business to post about... and there is one thing I never ever say and care not if people may except that my own story is secret and not in any way what the casual browser may scan out of it... even if I believe in no secrets well still there is excitement from not knowing the ending .... but i certainly never ever say to anyone 'don't look me up...'
Now is it insulting or unwise )or just knowing, and wise?) to say if one actually wants a woman to do something, suggest she does not....
Don't ask me, but all i do know is there is indeed 'work' or call it business, or call it administration....  me i call it nothing as I have so many glorious stories I shall never get around to those of six years back never mind yesterday...
Anyway there is one certain rule, which is one may play with words to entertain onesself in most trying of circumstances (i never ever speak of...because they matter not), but my 'personal' many year mobile phone number at the top of this page  is personal and never ever in any way part of any official anything..... sacrosanct, personal is personal no matter where the caller may herald from....and private. Unless they wished to make a better movie. or just be human once more.





















I mean

There is a species who will I am quite sure
Flutter their eyes when Don is on the first date and after dinner
They get it on a platter
A 'voucher' for a million bucks worth of plastic boobs and other bits.
And their eyes know only to light up after all you have to know The Deal

oh yes seven years....

and any so called numbers...... all such cyballs is a ruse for not mentioning the seventy million Tiger scrotums and dolphin fins the dinosaur brained creeps still harvest to satisfy their culturally relative fuckin dinosaur farms of behaviour...

ANyway I am lucky, in that I know that mine are no false memory in that I know exactly what clear out i was doing two seven year cycles ago especially as the exact date is etched in history and on Youtube too; and then one ago there was a so no way predictable turn of the wheel .... and i know full well that three ago I did have a complete clean out of all the old mub collected in the heel of my wellies...

(oh yes thats the important bit about that day ... one of a few lingering phrases
 ' ooooh i do like those wellies of yours ... ' and lingering in the most pathotic sense as in miracle I had managed to get there then..... and no one knows 'my story' and the fools who would never listen: no it's not about exposing the nasty deeds of the Tyrants, its about exposing MEDIATION as always being possible.....ALL ways.....
No one listened, even if it should go on cistern over the toilet that my ashes are flushed down: ehh even if they never ever admit it, ehh here lies the one whom really caused almost all the 2012/14 ish revisions to the famous C100 form that hangs over several hundred thousand a year ...and always will..... making it crystal fucking clear ' yes that means you TOO.... could retreat, and put your guns in the ground...and go to mediation.....or else'...
Anyway Wellie day...of the two 'missed calls'....a sublime life being one where you NEVER ever get any of those weird calls from a withheld number which would appear to be the price of even sitting there and having your morning coffee on the streetcorner (of course I saw......even if out of respect I naval gazed My eyes at my naval...)... but that's life. And in fact I don't really believe in coincidence at that level being no other missed calls on my personal line for many a month....and two on the same day or after when I hit the pathway wearing my replacement rather sexy Hunters....(a pound, hardly used, prior my purch)
And smiling to myself, it is called respect.
 
But that is for another day.
Anyway
So, how about so starkly seeing, and I am for ALL immos..... all, no matter whom, as long as they are well informed at the border as to the dystonia they may spy.... it is that 'may' that is the important word.
But there is one Immo in particular..... well, why on earth did I just not say ' hmm I always did for 21 years lament..... wrong sister...so so so wrong..... because there was always one I always preferred so so....'
And go and put my big one innit with telling her the story of the day...so far.....

But before we get to any specifics which i would never do long ago knew there was no point, indeed one could evena appear Judas... in saying I 'empathise' a lot and have done seven years with the so~called~Honours....
because as scientifically ascertained then, well how can they ever do anything honourable or otherwise if people  can neither listen to me (best example wandering out of Baker's London real grown up High court a few years ago  ' Jesus Christ he almost thinks we are he so loved us look in all my times smiling at the bench in just the right way which means they know you are going all the way until the wheels fall off and burn.....  I have never known such a respectful and ....I mean he wanted to send me a Valentine...and he did it he called up the lower order and told them to do their fuckin job as we asked him... On~Hers don't do that stuff..... we won mate....what we could, some his hands were tied but I have never known such a result and he believes there can be peace as I alone explained to him..... the so called Families Need Fathers representative in fact working AGAINST peace plans.... sums up this screwy fuckin dystopia..... but he loved us.... I mean relative is the most important word, relative to normal Honorific behaviour that was impossible..... so be cool and relax and accept the Zrn of what he demanded WILL be next....don't appeal.... just get on with the rest of your life now and focus on making mine and that On~Hers peace....work.... an afterall you are an intelligent man clearly....and you do say you love yer little half breed...... so lets do it for her...'

pregnant silence..... In Memoriam for those who never can.

Anywya back to point what was it.....

Well there is a bigger one.
Only a few times in any seven year cycle of a jolly good clear out has anyone says pregnantly disabled things. One I shall never forget: seven a yearn'ago on the visit to the man who, well we wouldn't say despite his casual exterior that some years i had been sad at his actual genuine real OCD obsessions in the kitchen...so sad a quite balanced ideal 'elder' of a man .... but it was that one thing, the King of the Internet and campaigns and so called mediation following my work, and Daily Mail primary source often quoted in their columns as 'reliable' on...parents....and the ing of it....  
'men from Mars women Venus mate...'
So sad... so completely and utterly madly untrue and even if it were you  can only focus on that poor little forgotten planet Mister Ex invented perraps marooned between the two.....

Which is also for another day except to say
I suppose you could call it
A moral duty
Amoral duty
Duty
too many words
Which forever explode out of the gobs
of every moral Mazer
its beyond
Everything

Duty, simply
Having lived this far
Thus far too disinterested in anything else
Other than to say one simple
Intelligent, thing about the female of the
species
It is my duty

hmm what was that so called 'false' memory'...

Too much keeps interfering with my quite fabulous memory thank you very much... even if perhaps it is not wise to emphasise.

False memory; it lying to you....



Hahh new system: not telling..... that which you plan for, for so long..... as it all comes together just on schedule, even if the schedule was for it to have been a few days a~prior....ish....
And all comments about good little tunes, just a fey little game with assumption. because the tune that matters is the 'well I never...' of it all;  The rejected disc. Thank You Goddess of the rejections. Because first time around I was not (as I wrote so carefully) in that perfect place, no we shall not call the Aisle of Zen ~ moored on it, as his river floats by.... him on his little rowing boat... because a few days ago indeed, the delay caused by even the so called Zen, was like all its proponents in increasingly complex Sir Mons.... [Mon =  for advantage, on someone else's credit card, that may just not get paid back, I got that a few weeks back]  ...a load of PR..
talking of who, I mean what a barrow boy, like all the rest of them, there he was on the wirelss 'Mister who the Hell's  mark Berkowski ...' hahh so many memories...
One clue there, because some aspects of existence as I thought first time I met Mr Chubbs Ice~Cream PR man.... need careful poised folk to express it all with a modicum of humility....because yes they really do, matter....
But before I answer the question honestly, which would have been crawling around in a trance, in shock.... the nice kind; figuring how the hell I, if I ever did stick this into volume seven of the memoirs; or even come up with one sentence that can begin to touch the ..... beautiful humanity, never mind something far more germane ....
Well, S words....
Now I probably knew it earlier on, but it came and attacked me some 16 years ago.... out of the mouth of the so called scholar, who we, yes we..... would love to attend to... me gobbin it, she beaming and giggling as she put his credit card into her little machine....   which is an act of extremism because getting a nipper to relieve the old fools of their cash is about as cynical a sales strategy as one can invent so no mere mobile phone salesman ever impresses me.... after GCHQ stole Rob Horrorford's about 'only black'.... as he was the only one with a brain.
And then seven years ago, the exploration begins.....I suppose time to think... the mists of anxiety clear when there is nowt to be anxious about...losing. Never planned. But....

Anyway the answer to the question (on paste) 'what are you doing with the rest of your day ...?' is be so stunned into a pleasant s word kind of feeling that I neglect all my other routine chores, working to get by .... in a mind body, and soul way....
Because I can no longer think, so ...
I mean talk about a day of the fuckin f words....the main one being my big one, innit.....

but that inabit....
for now on drat posts on Tueday evening the continuation of the rif which is so much more than a rif but for now if nothing other than to get it out of the way tabwise... the next one is just a case of housework
getting it swept away under the carpet, because quite clearly life is far too bizarreley hilarious to bother with seven years of superb wise Montaignian memoirs....




In fact I should put it on loop...

'what are you doing with the rest of your day ...?'
so the modern equivalent of copy and paste for now will have to do....
And while I think about it a so called asterisk is entirely inadequate, never mind colour coding ... for words just nice ordinary words uttered by a nice ordinary "human being" who can still smile at the wonderful mixture in all us so called human beings in the very last place on earth you are of course.... going to encounter one. Officially. Award Winning.

In short the answer to that question is on loop over my ears.


"Inspiration...."*

* put simply.
But
As long ago discovered, one certainly does not want to ever tell anyone what to think so let's keep that secret just between me and you....
Oops the long ago discovered thing; 'titles' ~ entitle people to tell themselves what happened, in a day, or just a meeting..... and that's all wrong. I mean the answer to the human question, and it's the 'human' bit of that preface that matters.....because.....
Some things you cannot make up, and would of course be beyond a Loachian imagination......
But the honest answer, to the question: ' so what are you going to do with the rest of your day....'? is:
' somehow get over this impossible encounter, now I don't even have the odd pint unfortunately, not because I am some mental cripple whom cannot just leave it at one or two, or even worse spends all my time on some so called "program" of lots of steps but you can never ever have a pint again or you will turn into the monster you are~ which of course comes from America, where they don't actually believe in the 's' word...or the 'f' word....
But let's start this post (which is no so called 'post' it's just poetry and I don't give a fuck if no one else gets it as the near seven year journey, assisted by just sitting, scribbling  ("PART TIME!" that matters as I wrote in the truly beautiful letter of last Autumn and I don't care if she stomped her foot .... it is that I took my time to think of how to offer my wealth of knowledge ~ and researched the latest science for her.... 'tis that I did it is all that matters)   could be said to have again .....
Errata indeed there are no words.
But there is a  piece of music.
But you have to as the header I really must get around to looking at to see if it ever made any sense, needs to be in context.... and you have to sit and watch the movie first.

So, to be the exact opposite of what is all everyone else can ever talk about so the wireless I think was last on on Monday morning, drifting along, wondering what the week may hold.....   starts with Miss chubby Chops 'Hello'  now, really, oh Dear..... apart from anything else if you fuck off to America, and even worse La La Land**.....  well you should fuck off our wireless too, for good.....
And then the other so called Prize Winner..... all the luvvies whoop tee dooping....

But even mentioning such international matters devalues, one day.....yesterday.

So, the truth, now apart from (as no foolish victim of the domestic STASI can ever listen to and follow ones instructions any more, despite them calling you up to ask for dome..) Grace, Elegance, and her interbred sister Miss A Plomb requiring it or they shall not consign you to the history books, as even the so called heard hearted have at least one little gooey bit.....  ' when dealing with your persecutor, do have some words ready in your pocket, from unimpeachable sources, even if the definition of narcissism is to just KNOW that you feel great and top dog everyone reading your so called tweets.... [which in fact I long ago discovered is the exact opposite to reality, and that freedom and a return to properly authentic carefree creativity comes only from the absolute knowledge no one gives you even a cursory scan].... but just this once, if I were working (part time!) ever again with the so called down at heel, or in fact being generally a most utilitarian type, sorry, in YUK that has to be carefully selecting those who seem not to be headbutted by booze, pills, spliffs and other such lazy excuses for not actually prioritising the children you say on the phone that you only ever think of so please help me get them back....
But that is another book entirely. Anyway, seven or eight years, ending two years ago, with the most 'selected' customer ever; because I could take no more of the supposed good guys who spend all day telling you that for their court statements yet cannot actually stop smoking so much fucking pot  that they can't remember the password to their phone so that they can show you the text from the vicar who lies in his texts that they are jolly nice child centred people.... so the 'last' one..... indeed a 'them' because you can only really help people who have their so called 'backup' of another half please publican ....  because for most of course family tragedy creeps its way into the list of victim responses and the chief one though they never admit is the loneliness of the place you end up in....
But being YUK folk forget to mature and take in the arts house movie, and good poetry fact of it, that solitude is of course necessary to get your grip on the slippery nature of what nature did not intend.....but like it or lump it...... and no end of moaning to the likes of Loach in this land will ever get back that thing that I do believe should no longer be called 'justice'....

Because there is only one word, really....
 
Anyway what a waffly bit of jotting so far. Just when for once, most rarely, I am inspired.... oh yes
'Look twat the way to win at your court cases or tribunals or at least be fucked up the arse with Grace dancing with Elan all the way....because that is in the end the thing that matters for your soul......is never make your defence 'personal'...  I mean Roman, he alone surely showed us that ....
'Anyway, at least have a few good lines to make those present like you a bit maybe, and maybe even think twice, as that is even if they'll never get even in Hull, what art surely is for......... that is called honouring your opponent, a good example perraps " oi Your [officially] so called, On Her..... to quote the one good line that the mad bad and clearly dangerous to know top dog of late has reminded us of...... you shouldn't take every word so...literally..neigh sentence..."

'So what are you doing with the rest of your day.....?' .... honest answer, ehhh fuck * oh by the way even if I rarely swear in person, eye to eye.... the science states unequivocally that folk who cuss and take the various so called prophet's names for the vain fuckin rewriting of history they are.....  are indeed TRUSTED more by the average Johnnie or Jane.....
Anyway there is a far more dangerous 'f' word someone said to me seven years ago.....
And my own seven years (it did end, on time, Tuesday evening. I make my cycles; no foolhardy lost little Goldfish  )
Seven years..... I still have to get my one line just right. But its the gut stuff; the heart stuff. The real stuff. Seven years ago words like 'fate' bothered me......so glibly scattered around, and just yesterday several new encounters always they throw around that word 'coincidence' or even the rather bad clever versions like serendipity....
And some time ago they no longer do.
Nor does musing upon the MAYbe metaphysical, because at least there is one good thing: fact of the matter: indeed it does deserve it's double colon..... because anyone from mister Aquinas to the latest wannabe (I'm surrounded by em!! ) who is gonna translate the utterly certain connected beautiful Universal energy wavelike into their Paypal account  by dint of their special skills in harnessing it all and selling love (the actual victim in my last legal case, even if a modern Cathy Come Home would have her down as a worse perp than that loraine one who the coppers and Pollies stated symbolise 'broken YUK' ... but of course her ex even if he a so called nicest possible human being...could not accept that she despite abducting his children, needed kind words...a middle ground found.....  mediation.... peace.... belief that it will not always be as it is now....
Which is why it was time to give up...... him just one of so so many who had so so much of my time..... generally for free.

But ... 'fate' no one has the first clue what the fuck that means....just lazy thinking and talking for not trying to LIVE it...as I have done for a fair bit of the last seven years....
hocus pocus..... well that freaked me a bit seven years ago, and nowadays I actively go around and about begging someone to be an actual witch because I was long ago ready to challenge her to a duel and in the finest fettle forrit.......
But then there is another word..... the 's' word.










Tuesday, 14 February 2017

(one would [innix] be diverse...I am a nice person who always elevates the underdoggie...

spesh if she is in a wheelchair..... and i listened to the next one down the list, the UCLA choir.....  and wanted to put elevate her and her crew.... pull her up by her shoulders atop the list.... but I have the most superb acoustics even with humble systems...... such that sorry if you are gonna do a 'version'...make it as good as the best or off yer fuck..... there is only one. Despite aggressive shaved heads evolving out of the Telly several decades back, which was when I said 'oh dear' and nuthin actually has ever changed at all, indeed its short shaven heads which disable people from wise thoughts like, hmmm...the Nigels of this world..... entirely ignore them, plus, there is only ever one key with any human being, or even robot ... ' nuthing you can ever cause or do will ever hurt me, mate.... so despite, all the silly billion words onnit all.... love, luv, be it individual, or for all.....same thing.... gobby creeps tend to get bored if they are told that they are of no actual consequence ever no matter what, and wonky wimmin too, in my experience, if anyone had the guts to say it to them..... have got brains too, and figure the same rationale..... it changes, even if they pretend not...which in fact is a splendid definition of pride ~ in a functional world...)


Now, all that's actually [innix] happened.....

...(indeed there we go, of course the so called philosophers, well... they know none of that human philosophy either..... especially if it is true, I mean what child or young adult would like to have known, that my truculent footstampin could never actually in any way, even coming home with a heroin one night stuck out your ankle....or between the toes ... 'no, not hurting me, impossible...I mean it, I mean go all the way; there is a great difference between regret and acknowledging simple tragedy....acknowledging is a good word..... registering, that everyone else only deep down dance to it's bell......zzzzzzz yer old bag....')
exactly, so important the nub of it I cannot remember, but I have a superb memory for what matters, which is that the over acquisitive moron who would use any angle or crap brandname to further anything, was simply ignored.... and I am not aware of any update to that excellent strategy of the past.....  and being the whole worldwide nutjob mad sad Easternder afflicted drama Queen thing of it has done the opposite....
Well, it was time to smash the radio some time ago....


But my last few years, hell ...what a superb and magnificent journey through, well quite a lot actually....
But lets start with the real little bastards and wise Yogic insights ~ never sought.... there is no point so called searchin for any wisdom as that way lies a fuckin pothole (like the one here so called repaired a week ago...it was a big one, and despite the six men, now even bigger [cut to the ....film, or movie if you must.....I know Loach is so out of date it's absurd....)

Bastard collection A: (used a lot as conversation practice....) and they always agree with my pamphlets on moral issues... I never fail to nuke em despite their combined age them all being elders.... but they would not even for a moment understand the only actual moral dilemma I have had this winter.....but it is no more.... time and her loops assures me with the biggest possible wink you can receive.. and I am not coy....a December before last I was coy and it bothered me, about stretched cirx..... with every single absolutely Cannes Palme D'Orrid little bastard reason in the background .... that no 'ordinary bloke avin a fag on the streetcorner' as the Lore of this and any other nearby Lands is meant to reflect... what they all would know, for sure...is right and what is wrong...
But maybe Ecclesiastically that bit of timing had to come round the corner and chuck her fancy seven quid white wine in my eyes.....
So that I blinked....that's all....

All of which of course one must enjoy, often.....and never ever regret.

But it's those bastard official goodies..... how sad..... I mean I trust, many people.....or at least with a bit of me, or at least with one subcontracted bit of the blog..... morality, 'define' even...(no one can in this horrid land ever so its mnecessary to ignore...everything..... and love even of the Populistoctrats, whom dont exist as its only a load of morons who will be even more so called 'angry' when their baccy doubles after the drawbrige is up.... I mean there is only one way to deal with a Nige or Paul whom cannot read the science even Her Therryish herself cannot deny, like the science: all 'other' ing in education, no matter what you dress Grammar school girls in...is bad, in utilitarian ways, amortised arbitraged and fuck around with the data any way you want......less good for less of the lumpen masses and their expanding girthlines.....is bad...period....and the poor ones who never make the grade whinge on Wimmins Hour about them forever and even more angrily..... is the society you get....
when you are given.
Inequality, or if no thickos are reading as we dont want to upset them with difficult words even when they are smaller, inequity.

But that is for another day. Today (as I have for six o'em..is my day and at teatime I have my ritual cymballs .... quiet moment, of ' hmm..... I know I could not, no one can..... even the Lawrences didn't survive as an 'ssss'....   but I should have just got my centre back and suggested a pint and ....well.....
And of late ~ definition: last four of em.....: what magnificent magnanimous utterly jesus like tales to tell......and i know the actual real definition of the paradox of true compassion....and understanding through those seven years things I will always be privelaged to...and thats no fake fuckin hyperbole from the how~to~seem~sorted manual....and i have a LOT of proof...real proof...... the kind in that one all night rather scary phone call...) .... today I shall have my pint ...... regradless....
Of nasty Auntie ....

Anyway yes much more interesting: religious nihilists, and self~pityists, I talk of Christianity surely the most dangerous so called theosophy on the miserable planet where the rule should be have a bonfire of all the crap in your own backyard first, before peering over someone else's wall........ as they aren't stupid and can peer into yours too....
 Among the many (high level!) full on nuclear shooting matches and great jokes all my just a few 'white lies' have been tested on them properly.....as pure and accepted as good.
There are only a few. These years. And the art of ...well I am not sure of the word cos its time near to end that Seven.... the last one ever....
No more cycles...ever....
Because the last one was so perfect that.... hmm, that's the difficult sentence, as what exactly is the definition of 'perfect' but later today I shall get there....

[I know, as someone cannot deny, good Literature..... well two of them in fact, always have a backup... and the best line of all if I can remember it a few months ago...' well, when you are Queen of The Revolution, they can blame me...it is TIME my little friend..let this day be remembered Sweets...... for your education to ...re~begin.. and for gods sake dont get a bank transfer as I have known some time that what cons around, goes around...eventually'   ..and I know that all of literature does not hold as Beautiful and necessary small white lies as I have had to tell.... maybe...indeed if you want a better kind of Bob......even if I never used the so called magic to summon ..... and that is being true to yourself in a way even all the gods pretending to be earthlings would baulk at having to be.... I stayed true.]






Liars....



An hourago, not that time or sequence really matters..... all that matters is my fingers work and once again work on muvva.... I could never get board of her.  So it has to be 'her' so called....

(errata one, measley line in the Haddon... words/effect 'hell, blokes who know why you need to smash yourself, still, into the barricades of That Mon [for real, not the pastiche kitsch version that every fuckin Mirthfulness [why does Miss Oggle capitolise such a naff nonexistent word? je ne say passsss] victim of their own tawdry crap existence chasing the latest hairdo off the telly, or in some other way start afresh every seven years, to the minute...... are the only sexy ones with whom one would...break any so called rule....' which of course is fake cos its all very well saying things or writing them.... but I can categorically assure by dint of a rather fabulous few years, or at least since I encountered one birthday Her Doppership..... and I discovered there was a real woman, over fifty*, ....left....that its untrue)
*revelling in the smell of newborn spring lamb still drippin from her unwashed hands....as she sells it in the Place.... arguing about snails.

Anyway an hour ago.... 'yes, schedule.... at least a year I have been preparing for this schedule....exactly. And the nice weather nerd this morning was fully backing the daily sequence, up with its warming up midmorning...

And the [borrowed] thermo~meter speaks of their inadequacy neigh utter vandalism of the so called facts.....
That they will never know, really.... as it 'plummets' [if you are one of those endless poor lambs of female~townie Farming Today  cos i smash them around the gob every other day wit their 'ooooh its so horrid and chilly lets get in by the Agazzzzz..Ifer...' ] which is not what actual countryside people ever say, whom know the zen of it all.....
So, the lie of the day, one of lots, especially this nonsense about frauds and news, it always was and the only so called new fraud is ...(hahhh had it before but lost in the spinning wheels of fiery time ..or maybe it's fairy time....
no one knows, but all i do know is a plummet from five to four degrees means..... behind schedule.
(which is a good thing as it has allowed me to see my rather favourite woman I had assumed would not be due in til next week...and she knows....I watch for her....but that's a lie....a real one assumes that you may have been..... splendid.)

so, up the airy passageway....

(and i do not want to be sat at the keys, even if, it has in fact taken to exactly this moment ~ well that''s a little white lie.....for the definition of: inabit.... to get back to exactly what I so called had seven years ago exactly..... every bit and no bytes in the tail, lost, floundering...)
Up the airy passageway: and although it is on loop, in the headphones, I can still hear it.... the maybe perfect song, loopin away....and hell it's upbeat. And good.....

Where was I? notes....

'silence'.... the world outside indeed should [innix] be excluded....

after all she, that day a few months ago,(I know the exact day and second but that would be too much so called evidence) could not speak,   when my phone* rang... [twice actually, same afternoon]...

*...sssss Jenifer..... because I have two, one here, number for anyone that wished..... that only eye to eye is ever given to anyone who would want an eye to eye with.... the other: the rest.
Funny thing is (and as in the so called oral blog; now....someone once said 'write it and it shall be so', maybe....  but the funny thing is, planning never to other than tease, wryly..... it did, become true....and fuck itzgood.......) .... a recent example of so many witty wisdomicisms....: 'ok luv, you should trust me, because...... I am beyond nuclear, beyond ocd ..... beyond so called lethal, in my habits...that are careful and no matter what no one could get through.... no so called hacker or any other general vandal could ever get to me..... apart from airy corridors up the way which is the only way....to sleep well, always.....  I am the sort of nasty cunt that is so perfect in cuntiness, even if its always delivered with complete graceful human loving peace, usually in the form: ' hi... now... I wish to love you as an honourable human being, my equal.....  now, a rare purchase of say a second Nokia phone a simple 100 ..... I still have [as did she, The ragged...and the same glasses case..... but what book was she reading...I would never be quite so intrusive I am forever afraid] and if something works ok, well there was an old rule: get two..... and hence the simplification is perfect....
or three if you plan to live on forever.... but the best way that you and I, say Paul Mason.... to be best buddies and my rare shopping experience to be one only of equals in love.....is that I do not trust you.... so I have here my little camera [ssss Jezzz abel....] and when you ask me about the little box that says no junk, of any form whatsoever, be it through the Hobbit house's catflap.... or in my case ferret flap....  or in any of my inboxes, neaigh as for an actual person calling me and pretending they dont want to sell some crap to me when thats the only reason they are......woe betide...... but the real woe betide will be you, Paul... because you see mister P I have my act together, and i know what simplification is....and it does not need to include the so called Telephone Preference Service...if you like people.... assume not they are you [i.e. me] ...... after all love is in the real world about finding someone who is NOt the fuck....you as in one.....as in me....
'because anyone who says so is a liar....
' anyway I am me, no not mee......  and me, has never [and thats not some fake 'never'... me, I am someone who never ever in any way ever gets any junk.... never have for years, you see I have my act, together.....
'So, Hans...if that changes, well...... that will be only down to you, lying that you have taken care to tick the terminal box...which terminates my never relationship with your pathetic little so called company.... and i shall be within my rights to put this video on all the Tubes that ever will exist...forever.....
'luv... that's how efficient and always careful  I am......and it works....'
But... they still don't listen...even when nowadays a story to illuminate whom the fuck one is, always told with pure poise and grace and no last little shard of poison stuck inside me which was of course  a correct analysis of yours truly then....... but never now. Never
always want to ego~fight....always will, and that's all that indeed ever so called happened since Francis wrote his rather good false~jap words.....

And the point, hahh the point...... now of course the atomised and made a bit neuro something or other by a traumatising long time ago..... of course is smart enough to leave no evidence...and anyway there is rarely true incontravertable anything.... but the point: isn't coincidence a word i know so well and never trust.....so gloriously chocolate~cake, with sweeties scattered around it despite knowing better....
because a year can go by, neigh more....with no one calling me on that number, no one, never nada, namaste off you bugger forever... the day I had my shopping list in my green gloved hand cycling down the narrow back alley, only having first checked.....
But that wasn't the first act that day..... the best of all, cos it was my day.... and I am magnanimous...is that proof of something important that may be impossible to get into one line, here and now.....

Let's just say, I think a much better definition of luv....and any such knowing things is never for the under thirty fives....is knowing that anyone whom you may wish to say be one of the few worth inviting to your funeral pyre, it is for any to know, that love is getting your act so together ~ both the internal viruses that clog you up and cause all that foggy Miss Eee D chances.... is to be able to say to someone, apart from getting a great oral blogline spun into the weave a few years ago ' you make the pitiful human ubiquitous mistake of thinking that I am you..'  : you know what...apart from the fact that irrespective of that silly 'F' word which i am yet to find a good definition of, so fuck off and be silent fabulous and Universal Pute.... I would not have had this loop in time any other way, no not one millisecond or quantumly entangled bit that thought it was matter or did rather than just to be persisted through or with or quantumly computed as ever being possible to be so called different.... but, luv: via simplification, perraps...and learning just so so much....and having utterly nowt to lose even if world expert at protecting and treble backing up whatever you doave....  and modernising......  guess what, for the right reasons.....
.... I have cartwheeled through that loopy time and  there is one rather miraculous and unsought journeys end....
Which is to be in a metaphorical island in the middle of that turbulent river all around.... called: It is a physical impossibility for you or anyone else for that matter to ever in any way no matter how wonky fucked up, mad, Trump~disorderated, the Heighness o'Flaw her very self.....


you could ever...hurt me....

( anot just a notion cos, its been so road tested, so completely and utterly whatever the it of it is.... put through mountain paths with Americans hurling drones in their tricky stealthy way.....  and the toughest of all [tht'll make The Moggy book look like the pathetic ghost jealous of the junky's payout trite canned moggygrub it is...like a diferent universe where there's only half adimension, if i could ever be bothered to do the second draft...]......  dwelled upon from so many angles (between other useful periods in the present ~ I never planned....but how magnificent every moment was in, when you are into recycling as I am.....)

Especially since every woman I have known, sadly, and there are rules, and break them it's only the breakee that ultimately suffers.....
eventually..... looks in yer fuckin computer....uninvited even if I dont believe in passwords...I mean we never had passwords on our old folder of loveletters kept for some sentimental or its not time for a seven year bung~out yet, reasons....
Why oh why but that's a silly aside










So, someone once said 'fate'... only one in fact, perhaps desperate to have some sort of so called...

'belief' in such a notion; notions always tantamount to .....something, one could use clever~words...
But all I know is the journey my mind makes, and back then, at the end of a previous seven year bicycle ride through the tributaries of sham trials, and other ones....which were miracle in being not only the 0.001% that ended as they should, happenstaned also to be the footstampty little atom that went and for the right reasons said this monolith of a dam  within which i find myself poured into like the Vogon concrete all my neighbour atoms become, got a bit het up ~ wrong way of putting it actually, because the personal vibration were all good for the right reasons and hence the pathway through the mix could be seen for the right kind of signpost, and the bad energy of all the others ...ignored...... little maverick (wrong word, as doing what is on the instruction book of there is an obvious right and an obvious Monolith on drugs that rather likes its gravy and eating it too... isn't one) can headbut the cement mixer so hard that a little crack is; and little cracks lead to big tsunamis sometimes..... not my plan 'Yer so called On Her.... I promise..... me far too thick to imagine such revolutions may actually be possible...'

Anyway so called fate.... one day being as, well, there is only one hard line, and that is the line that seven years ago, just a few weeks after standing in the very cut price warmth the snow outside, miraculously and i don't make false hyperbollox of claims... ' within a year [or was it 6 mths] well, one of us will be dead as sure as loads of cats are cats...'..... being as miraculously that did not come true, when for 99% of the plebs it would have....  and also being that the hardest line of all did come true but of course then one could never ever imagine even if ones mind was rebooted a million times with a so called improved operand system.... you cannot know ~ that is the deal with 'grief', Homeric an'all.... for the should be so called missing, is worse than ....dot dot....

Now the bit between that dead parrot moment and the never in life ever before said so clearly not meant 'fuck off ..' which is one of the few completely 'understood' and entirely self~forgiven moments in life that nevertheless haunt just a bit.... like if they were drunk ghosts who are usually extremely nice and dependable, and never ever jump to conclusions, but don't have the mental capacity to ever distrust the Angel they hang out with after work, amongst us hard~work, whom is a right little angel of an angel and sticks vodka in his drinking water every night at dinner, hence he is forever wobbly and sugared up.... [how apt that it took so long especially when I have the bible i.e. Henry's Seeds...   on it pinched from the criminal Auntie's library its neigh self.... where he laid out in 1985 for even a pathetic little so called 'arts' graduate that may go on to speak publicly on it all...... that sugar is basically the only truly real 'poison' ....  and as one could say to almost everything ever on the so called 'News' ~ especially all those new generation of so called spinners except of course they never mention they are spinning their own little atomised group with some vested interest in Facebook adverts or the like, button.... 'oi wanker, Henry said it crystal clear thirty fucking years ago [and we could add in almost any like minded so called issue.] ... ehh excuse me, you [so often female one sadly recants] ... with your look at me I am phoenix here to save humanity with my new app that'll be guaranteed to transform the plight of refugees/ LG and as for the rest of it the IQ bit its astonishing how much prejudice is going on against the I mean call me old fashioned but I could have sworn officially there is a '+' group, of sufferers, and it's meant to be 'Qi' yet all these bishes and all the other politicians seem to be very confused about who is covered ~ significant letterwise, by so called promises to change society......    which they of course are going to....
Apart from the phenomenal scope for legal cases suing for prejudice, neigh their very name, or letter, being excluded.... I can just imagine all the so called online huffing and puffing after each of the half a billion broadcasts a day  when some label is not any more stuck on that particular groups storage box cos the glue used in making the sellotape no longer...works....
ANyway I long ago pledged I have no interest in the public, because no one else gets it. I do and did immediately.  And i have indeed listened for any of the other pundits if they have the first notion of ALL that is happened in a year or so.... and even if sometimes i fall asleep at 8pm on the old shagging sofa (I am told there were generations seeded on it) in front of my embers.... it nags at my ind that what kudos and 'shares' may have arisen from instantaneous genius~level (and thats no boast, it is true) cutting insight behind the endless cant.....it gives in fact true pleasure ~ lasting... to have heard, well...it is back to that 'nottiness'.... that no one has spoken of a few underlying issues, never mind obvious end of The Road.... and no it isn't the one that pulls up outside secret police torturing headquarters in downtown Singapore... no, other direction..... and as I lived in The Tiger's belly long enough to understand how truly bile damaged internally, and selfish neigh narcissistic beyond any mere sneaked~out~while~no~one~was looking Mammon's so called miscarriage it became
Anyway, simple... I know that in some ways it was a correction, I was able to become a genius. But don't tell anyone ...

But here is the only hard~hard line... the one that you don't want someone who may Miss Understand bue imaturity...to jump to concluding all is well from....
Because (having thrown away in disgust last night a few chapters in only and thats against my rules! the latest Haddon.... only maturer folk can ever say anything about bothering to live, in an intelligent way... that's what if there is a cause and effect ...we bothered to not commit suicide, for...)


Now, that last has been on the desktop, what is it, a week..?

who cares. All mattering is if anything may just might, indeed those little loops in time; and one so long planned to end today.

It started with just one word "valentine" .... hahh hahh and the 'only connect' of it all is I never thought of it then: indeed if one could then maybe I should set fire to my bicycle wheels and peddle back exactly seven years to the beginning of this loop, finished at long lunchtime, and have a look at (if I even knew it then~ that it existed)   the so called sent text, to see if it had a little tck against it stating maybe~read....


(interruption, a whataone!) 'Angel' (no trade, mark my words) songsssssssss.......

I mean we could fill the whole fuckin chronicle with 's's on that one..... alone...... exactly: they are atomised nonces, goin around causing havoc, never mind secretly footstampin behind your back......and anything done not for the whole world to see in front of your very eyes, even if no one knows any more the difference between The Lookingglass or a pair of decent reading specs....

But
Whilst of course all that 'searchin' is the issue, and a heck of a lot more than tadwise....
Cos you never ever find anything worth trying to think of what it may be in its worthwhileness.... shit just happens, and all of it can be recycled into something else sooner or later..... and happiness is always recycling, all of your lessons.
god that sounds angelically pious and i think we can honestly say the word 'angelic' is worse than all the other bad words put together. Essentially because such words represent a fucked up loser mentality yearnin and searchin for some 'other'.... even if they don'y like the other any more..... which gets rather philosophically zero sums don't add up.

Now, apart from the mental note happily retained ~ no pens and todo lists needed ever again.... even if I quite like em.... : ' searchin, for gods sake disassociate onesself from any such cheesy notions, especially as every industrial development in the healing and mindfulness pages is about some sniveling little weasel wordifier looking for her twin....poor thing.....lonely...and needing cash to pay for the texts, the only last one of the day, neigh weeks, is, especially since it always was one ~ that so called gift..... : 'give'....

But, even if giving is far far better a thing if the recipient is a snivelling angry little Bolshy...vite...  with no so called empathy even if The Bragg man ~ the baddie, not the pretty goody... thinks he has the equation worked out; errata 'solidarity'...oh dear....
I don't do 'oh dear' too often....
 Indeed history didn't just not do anything much for years, it did loop quite a few back to their infancy.... but i knew that two decades ago when i saw that expensive toy shop, for retro grownups....or whatever the right word is for a moron who would lake a spastic look intellectual. In Notting Hill.

Anyway, giving...... is better for you when all you get is a snarl, even if the snarly one dares not do it out loud. because then it's just a gift for the giver. Zero sum. No Quarter. Pure simplification. And in fact as I am the world record holder as the world can see at simplification, such a daft sounding notion is in fact as good a parable as my one about surounding yourself in your cave with lots of glass workbenches ~ no not expensive fuckin unbreakable stuff, no ordinary cheap brittle quick to stab back glass...... [vomit] ....
That was, even distracted far too often, you learn to perfect every smallest bash with ones little hammer whilst multi taskin..... such that the laws of physics are tamed and no mistakes are ever made such as whackin a log and not predicting that a flying chunk may indeed give one a black eye ~ only time ever in life.....



Tuesday, 7 February 2017

Trigger warning:

Now, so, ™, called.... wireless...... if you, were as I, on the trail of that elusive one sentence which describes exactly what the so called 'S'™ word......
is.....even if you live it. Daily, and have done some time.....now
Were up at 03.30 am and putting up with what has become every single other item, for some so called years now....
moaning about some  perceived minor hassle that some so called minor ority who could
afford cos they are rich [pity them] to be on aeroplanes to dumb countries four thousand miles the wrong way, away.....
And have to be pitied.......which even the so called World, Service, now makes its bread and butter toast offof....only......endlessly such that it;s unlistenable to....

You would not know, that if one were a perfect mentor to a woman, be she young or old, there would be one regret...only. That one could not lead her by the hand, back into times loops, she said....
Into a dingy little room in Soho near a quarter of a century ago.....and how the hell i ended up there I know not as knew nothing, because i never trusted what any persona connected may write....
Now, I have only ever been to one room in my life..... and some may have ended up there because their flights were delayed due some International Nutjobsowrth being a Nuttter..... and no neswspaer reported, well errata they would back then.....mention, notice..... the serendipity, the unknownability......to not search just be fuckin stuck....and save all that wasted time searchin for the so called luv of your so called life....
And dawdle along lookin for Hookers and....
You end up in one basement, Ron's place.....
And I have never been in any room where I know full well that every single woman in there, back in the days when it was appreciated that cunts a~juicin generally meant somethiung real....rather than some imagined choice...
No woman in that room had a choice.....
There was nothing else to even pretend to search for....
 Only once in life known for sure. 

So called  minorities......so called lesser enabled or lesser fuckin Dring Barrax....

They never tell the truth, which is that almost any man who can,
 would
Be where he stood.....
And just one wink of his eye....
Every woman brown, redhaired, or even Barbie herself....

Could not come up with the curated menu as to the narrative of why her fuckin so called journey had gone and abused her into being here.....but fuckit, now I am.....
what's this between my legs.....
Nature. Rules......



'You're So Called, Honour..... get off her for a minute and ....'

Honour, I mean if I was a woman who couldn't find the key to all that bendy engendering...... I too would be a lying tart...I mean, how van one man curate so much Beauty in one short enough slot.....I paid £2,49 plus post for...... and wa sof course rejected....but this time the poem is as good as his curation...... and his is very very good....... so to all those mad English booking their Zurich one way.... way way in advance discount rates available....
The whole point as there is only one, prejudice is defined by indeed what you will be........missing.

And even if you can't manage one pathetic half wink of an eye without some surly nurse not on enough money to afford her Nosejob can't be bothered to oil it so it slides up and over the balls propper ........
You may still be 'happy'....

soon....

after I experiment with the hard~cute..... cute!
and a new gift, after all I had not expected any such pan Continental supremacy: they get their letters at last fully recognised, after all cute is a letter too. In reality.
I shall return, there.....
There is only one pace to be....


hmm that prejudice line was quite good really despite cirx being rather pressing: being as Bolshoi as you are because you can only be what you only you will always be....
And the funny bit; is it's never ever that way.

sit, there's another...version.....


Anyway just whilst I do the last week of prep....
If i were to say just one or two photons Missin....
I would be lying.
Because photons entangled in the Narco~verse which of course no one actually knows what it means... despite it being every other word.....

Narcissism is only not being able to smile at every other new advice opportunity: ...'. luv [it often was, Andy Armstrong aside..... ]...when nasty Social Worker Bitch puts in her evidence: "tart scumbag underclass hasn't got as nice a car as mine......and never will.., and probably gives even better head than is available via Youtube lessons, so called [wink wink] .and always will......... and poor little Will we want to save from her, has been to three different schools in seven years, tart......  " LUV... the reason you called me was to listen, to so called advice......well what you do tart is stick in a lovely little line, guaranteed to nuke em back,  with their own petard flavoured cappuccino.....have yoou a pencil to hand....." to quote Mister Lord fuckin Nigel thingy on the wireless, Aisle 'and discs a decade back but records are records..... and you can even look up the exact date now we have the wonderful Interweb...... so put your phone down and do some fuckin work.....after all this is your ONLY child and you may lose him, Trace [generic, for all of em]..... all trace is what they demand...the one that murdered us ~ stabbed us in the face so in the face Nigel Lord BigBang.... with sardonic irony, all you need is this one post~Don line: You're so called  ™ On~her, and no you fuckin dont after all I am only quoting from the most prominent powerful man on the planet.....as Lord bigBang said on desert Aisle Dix a few years back.....verbatim...... and no I don't need a fuckin lizard, just im.....over there on my bell...... ' Jenny [or whoever it was chuckling] in answer to your question, on the record and stiull on iplayer...I went to I believe eleven diferent schools in ten years....and it clearly did me a huge amount of abuse/bad/chaotic~disorder/ vulnerability issues/ facebook complainersite site eligibility ratings and thumbs up..... put that in yer so called judicial pipe and smoke it and blow the residues into my winkin eyes.....". luv..... if you want to beat The Mon.....only their own words and stories as double edged sword are the implements.....'.....

Any noticinng? one spoke...and gave The Answer ....
what do you think.....
And there are some so called 'contempt' worth getting a jolly long stretch for.....

In short, no one else deserved to find the answer to what is it? That S word..... I have.

I mean Mister Middle~Name Ove

of course he is right, as I knew full well myself two seven year cycles ago, meeself..... fuckin Swedes, the lot of therm, uptight arrogant hasbeens on the gangbang front....wimps, probably went and re~repressed themselves fearing death via the so called plague ....
Never mind the perfect antidote: that long river ride, no punts intended, just good old fashioned oars and drifting.....
With some interestingly unfindable due such a common name [which is so frankly mindblowing as in the years of the so called sync, it's just been 'defined' by a string of ones whom are top of the Oggle~pops...as there is only one of them in the whole wide fuckin world! , which is a deeply philosophical random issue that all the so called  so called trio in the background....
Which, is so so, called perfect..... that in fact despite knowing many a year ago that fuckin Itis were all dilettante mummy's boys, who are too fuckin sugar and drug addled [ythe truth, oh yes there is one] ...because I had to put up with them being so distracted by calls from mummy as I am down the approach into Malpenasa after not enough sleep, and Iron Maiden in the background, the so called real ones..... except they were of course like them all
fake...
you certainly never believed them cos likely mum is actually screaming dwon the receiving end ' tell im he's cleared for aproach, good viz.... no issues...' just to get ma's lad back home for tea and naggin on so called time....
whilst the poor so called victim of his (they all were of course) profesional instructions, had one followed them would only lead to de struction...
would curate~ throwin in a few shy Swedes....
The likely actual funeral new~song.....
never mind sum up the most sublime year in all of conceptable humanity and her boring unknowable, history.....which Francis was definitely right about...stopped...
despite every radio 4 journalist still in recovery ward after their endlessly 'exasperating' year....