... maybe it was a thumb ...
With a bit of luck, it'll ruin his life--forever thinking that just behind some narrow door in all his favorite bars, men in red Pendleton shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know. Would he dare to suck a sleeve? Probably not. Play it safe. Pretend you never saw it...
It's Tuesday again.
Tom and the dog have vanished. They've been missing since Sunday morning. We went to the Car Boot Sale in the Station Car Park. Saw a pom. That little scamp pirhouetting about on the end of his lead. You could see the gleam in Tom's eyes as little 'Scraps' cowered in fear from the biting spinning pom. He bought a teapot with hideous faces upon it. We got on a train to the countryside (southease) leaving Tom with the dog. They've gone. They haven't been home.
What would you do? He's not answering his phone. He's a clever strong lad. He can look after himself, even out in the wild. I've seen him kill rabbits and feed on their flesh before. But I'm still mildly concerned. The posters are still there.
In other news, I spent much of Saturday drifting in and out of troubled consciousness. Not quite as bad as Coley Holy War, who, the weekend before, went to sleep at about 2am on the Friday, and woke up on Sunday morning, not realising he had missed a day. There's something funny up with the sleeping at the moment. Who knows what will happen once British Summer Time ends.
Wee Elboo rolled back into town on the Saturday night. She has started to sick up into her sleeve. Apparently she is not actually living in a big house full of boys. Instead, it's just because 'the girls aren't really worth mentioning'.
We took Andy James Nelson into the countryside with us on Saturday. After a joyous train voyage to Southease, where we found a pond of frogs, we began to climb a hill. Andy sat on the hill and didn't move. In the end, we left him there, and strolled through the "Garden of England", as some have referred to the South Downs in the past. In the distance, we saw a chalk quarry. An indistinct black clad figure appeared to be collecting chalk and wrapping it in their black jumper. What was he/she doing? Was it Andy? Why would Andy do that? Maybe it wasn't Andy. Daniel Taylor saw a Peregrine Falcon. We picked apples from the trees. Eventually we found ourselves in Glynde. Pints of ale in Glynde.
So apparently this town in the North had a seagull problem, so they employed this man to climb around on the cliffs breaking eggs in the seagull's nests, in order to mean there were less seagulls with the next generation. In the end the man had to leave town, because the seagulls remembered him and would attack him whereever he went.
Also elephants have been known to have similar revenge attacks; a man in an african village shot an elephant, and the next day the whole herd came along and destroyed the village. Nature fights back! Power to the cuttlefish!
Read poems at the Ukulele Research and Development night last night. Went well, for a change. Got the chance to read the Moustache Trilogy for the first time. Perhaps shall put some of it up here. They too were beautiful names.
Worked from open til close at the pub on Friday. Power. I need more shifts. Seamus won a Beer Engine (one of those big pumps one would use to deliver ale from a bar) from the Worthing Beer Festival. "Ulster says yes!". Imagine an incoherent stumbling Irishman with a slurred northern irish accent careering about with a 'Beer Engine' "Woulds you likes a pint of hophead there?". Beautiful.
Andy and Jed nearly got de-limbed. Amy is on woo-fest. Anna has been growing hundreds of exciting vegetables on the allotment. Me and Anna went to the launch of The Station at Preston Park station. A tiny tiny little harmonica. Doug wearing a bee-suit. Buffet!
It's Tuesday again.
Tom and the dog have vanished. They've been missing since Sunday morning. We went to the Car Boot Sale in the Station Car Park. Saw a pom. That little scamp pirhouetting about on the end of his lead. You could see the gleam in Tom's eyes as little 'Scraps' cowered in fear from the biting spinning pom. He bought a teapot with hideous faces upon it. We got on a train to the countryside (southease) leaving Tom with the dog. They've gone. They haven't been home.
What would you do? He's not answering his phone. He's a clever strong lad. He can look after himself, even out in the wild. I've seen him kill rabbits and feed on their flesh before. But I'm still mildly concerned. The posters are still there.
In other news, I spent much of Saturday drifting in and out of troubled consciousness. Not quite as bad as Coley Holy War, who, the weekend before, went to sleep at about 2am on the Friday, and woke up on Sunday morning, not realising he had missed a day. There's something funny up with the sleeping at the moment. Who knows what will happen once British Summer Time ends.
Wee Elboo rolled back into town on the Saturday night. She has started to sick up into her sleeve. Apparently she is not actually living in a big house full of boys. Instead, it's just because 'the girls aren't really worth mentioning'.
We took Andy James Nelson into the countryside with us on Saturday. After a joyous train voyage to Southease, where we found a pond of frogs, we began to climb a hill. Andy sat on the hill and didn't move. In the end, we left him there, and strolled through the "Garden of England", as some have referred to the South Downs in the past. In the distance, we saw a chalk quarry. An indistinct black clad figure appeared to be collecting chalk and wrapping it in their black jumper. What was he/she doing? Was it Andy? Why would Andy do that? Maybe it wasn't Andy. Daniel Taylor saw a Peregrine Falcon. We picked apples from the trees. Eventually we found ourselves in Glynde. Pints of ale in Glynde.
So apparently this town in the North had a seagull problem, so they employed this man to climb around on the cliffs breaking eggs in the seagull's nests, in order to mean there were less seagulls with the next generation. In the end the man had to leave town, because the seagulls remembered him and would attack him whereever he went.
Also elephants have been known to have similar revenge attacks; a man in an african village shot an elephant, and the next day the whole herd came along and destroyed the village. Nature fights back! Power to the cuttlefish!
Read poems at the Ukulele Research and Development night last night. Went well, for a change. Got the chance to read the Moustache Trilogy for the first time. Perhaps shall put some of it up here. They too were beautiful names.
Worked from open til close at the pub on Friday. Power. I need more shifts. Seamus won a Beer Engine (one of those big pumps one would use to deliver ale from a bar) from the Worthing Beer Festival. "Ulster says yes!". Imagine an incoherent stumbling Irishman with a slurred northern irish accent careering about with a 'Beer Engine' "Woulds you likes a pint of hophead there?". Beautiful.
Andy and Jed nearly got de-limbed. Amy is on woo-fest. Anna has been growing hundreds of exciting vegetables on the allotment. Me and Anna went to the launch of The Station at Preston Park station. A tiny tiny little harmonica. Doug wearing a bee-suit. Buffet!
posted by Rufus Moonshine at 5:05 AM
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