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Sunday 21st May2017.

Unicorns...are...Real...printed in large white letters on a black T-shirt...inside this T-shirt was a fem youth with a more than ample chest that could perhaps hide a herd of Unicorns on any given day, she passed my tiny red van deep within her own world, as i watched her slip from my view,i thought would i have worn such a t-shirt at her age..or perhaps i was kidding myself and simply thinking wow...if i was eighteen would i ask her out enticed by the thought of such a herd of Unicorns running wild inside her body.
Some one once wrote...I am the master of my fate...I am the captian of my soul....for much of the past week often caught in the pouring rain as i have pushed at least half a dozen worth of tree's in political leaflets through household doors in the run up to the general election on June 8th..
Each leaflet trying to out whit the other party in trying to gain the simple cross one has to place on the voting form. I wonder if the Unicorn fem will vote..will she be blinded by the Main jibber parties with their promises that often fall by the wayside or perhaps the green party...the great unknown where fields of green do look inviting.
Did myself vote at eighteen...no...the only things i was interested back in those days was Beer..and a certain fem whom i had the courage to ask out....but now wish fate had opened up another path instead regarding the fem...i do not amble down the crazy streets of my mind bouncing along with regrets those but's and if's....i asked myself in youth a time when i felt imortal felt i knew it all the only confusion was my own fem growing within...such is fate such is my soul at this time perhaps i might look for such a T-shirt...Unicorns are real and perhaps i might vote Labour this coming general election...in the meantime take care all whom pass this way....So Goeth.

Wednesday 17th May 2017.

A week dribbles into the History Books..it will not hold any account of my self no singing dancing or squirting beer at wasps...instead it will beat to death Saddleworth Moors...What will the Manchester Evening News ever talk about again on thier front page...will the name Ian Brady..ever leave our lips or simply allowed to return to dust in History Books to be slowly forgotten as not one of the best periods of time when snails raced across the land and hairy catterpillars stuck two fingers up to the world in an effort to change the tack. I am the master of my fate...I am the captain of my soul..good night all whom pass this way may your God be with you.....So Goeth...

Wednesday 10th May 2017.

My working day has ended i sit here in wrinkled stockings thinking Dear God..all this political rain pouring forth covering this green land in Elephant piss so thick in propaganda one can only sigh, perhaps i should put some flowers in my hair and sing some old sixties classic's to bring some warmth as i ponder over the coming General Election in June...and all this hype of a  Tory landslide are people that snow blind...yes perhaps they are...time i think to hit the pillow float away on a lilly pad to some far off land where i can wash my feet in warm water and my stockings will not wrinkle....Take care all....whom pass this way So Goeth...

Sunday 7th May 2017.

Sunshine cuts through my window so much to do..so few hours on this day..which is a typical Sunday for myself in the Manchester Basin....the grass needs cutting, rampant dandilions need screaming at, with the old wine bottle is cooling in the fridge....Therefore this is but a quickie post just to prove to myself that i have not packed my bags and run off to the circus like Nelly. For whom pass this way take care...

Thursday 27th April 2017.

Once more i have to pinch myself...to see if words can trickle down to play games amongst these keys...April has been one of those months where the thought of being a pink elephant wearing dark sunglasses and bright red nail varnish sounds good....words heard from other people that have passed my way stopping to give two-penth worth of their thoughts has opened up steam trains that are hard to stop from going past GO..and picking up two hundred pounds....along the way....the mere thought of the Tories remaining in power for the next fifity years is an ice cream cornet i do not want to eat.
How any of the grerat unwashed could possibly vote blue saddens me beyond belief.....But hey we shall see, wonders never cease the blue corner could indeed catch a cold if the great unwashed climb out of bed take their heads away from face book and stretch their legs to the polling station....puttting their cross in the right box....so be it....
At least i have some chocolate Easter Eggs unopened and there is always the great bubbles in the sky..surely Summer is around the corner crunched amongst the weekend ahead...which means i do not have to pinch myself to hard tonight now at least some words have floated down the turnpike....take care all whom pass this way and happy weekend....So Goeth.

Easter Monday 17th April 2017.

You could say...this Easter is late...in the calender...if you read the headlines of a famous newspaper which boldly stated heat wave for England now some weeks ago you would know that the editor was simply drunk or simply blinded by the huge pair of bloocks growing inside his head as he perhaps wrote those words just before the days print run,in the hope he could part the dead sea.
...i myself on reading those words simply thought Bollocks...this newspaper just loves to print doom and gloom...i am waiting for a picture of  " IT " whom at this very moment is fingering the magic button in the White House Stark naked with a raging hard on against the world, dressed in nothing but a  lego kilt. I thought it quite quaint in last nights viewing on which the BBC..showed the film WAR OF THE WORLDS.....when in the days of my youth perhaps the film Ben Hur...would be racing across the screen....indeed the times they are a changin...however not quite what Bob Dylan was singing about in the early sixties i suspect...This Easter the weather in Manchester has been akin to sleep walking in a cold bath with no hope of climbing out..as for Sunshine what the hell is that.
However one must have the stiff upper lip....say hurrah for England and Saint George and take the weather for what it is and simply wallow in the break that is Easter...i have perhaps eaten more chocolate than normal, drunk far to many bubbles sang far to many Australian folk songs washed dishes cooked in the kitchen and most importantly been quite happy in my soul...never mind all the Bollocks in the world....Easter is Easter bibles food and wasted sperm dreams in open moorland roads where sadly the only objects on them was road kill as i travelled to my favourite beach in North Wales where out of the worlds population of billions there was perhaps ten of us and a few dogs to say it rained blew a gale watched the surf roar one could not find a better spring day in Great Britian.
God Bless all whom pass this way and may you always be the captain of your ship.

Sunday 9th April 2017.

On this brave Sunday...i am alive...apart from an add comment on LJ..... my trusty machine has mostly been silent for a good few days, i am not sure if this has been the lazy lob mood as Winter fades away by simply watching that yellow thing in the sky mark it's path across the blue sky feeling some of it's warmth cut through the remaining chill still present early mornings..or perhaps musing over how much longer i shall pull on my old blue uniform, put up with managements ever increasing cry for more or perhaps the added bonus whilst driving through these red bricked streets where road works are endless and have no name, tied in with the lane lizards contortments as they also falther in the increasing traffic for the sake of the full ten yards.
I content myself for the moment with a pack of Cadbury's giant dairy milk buttons...in small golden letters  made under licence from Cadbury Uk limited..does this mean Cadburys...is no longer made in England..has England really come down to that, not even Chocolate made on the home shores....Tut Tut...i do hope Winnie The Poo..does not know such a fact.
We do make exceptionaly good traffic jams..bolstered by firey traffic wardens whose pencil tips become red hot in money fines, added to the taxman whom the Beatles once sang about with no doubt many new taxes invented since the 60's....cover our pavements in a swarm..
Bummble bees are in the air which always makes me smile, the remaining daffodils whom whethered winter are now stood bright bold waving as one passes by, no wonder the poet Wordsworth scribbled such...Dutch tulips run amok the mixed brigh bold colours so vast in choice since i was a kid...where the bog standard colour Red..Yellow...was about it...So much has changed down the years that my clattering mind sometimes stutters into a form of champagne Super Nova's as i fathom life it's self....i know also i am becoming older the giant spiders lines crawling up my legs has slowed to apace i can sigh at, and they do not quite stop my wrinkled stockings from standing in defiance of old age...My gait is still strong firm i can plant my feet in good order..my memory jingle jangles still to Dylan, with still a crush on Janis Joplin...yet this morning whilst resorting my wine collection in the cellar i let slip a full bottle of Chardonnay from my hands on to the concrete floor..which either means nothing or the three fates simply whispering don't you think there are enough bottles in this cellar....So Goeth..and a good week in front to all, if your an Easter Bunny Treat yourself..your only on this planet once in this form at least...

Wednesday 29th March 2017.

Well thats it then...out of Europe we go..time will tell, as whether we will live off Baked Beans and dried bread or Magic Mushrooms, perhaps we might get back those English Summers of the past when warm beer and fish and chips..was a staple diet on Friday Nights..oh well we shall see whats inside the can of worms now....So Goeth...

Sunday 19th March 2017.

Tis but Sunday...it's raining, has it stopped since Friday...after all this is Manchester... home of the giant rain drop which never runs dry and...No....i don't think the rain has at all stopped...i am sure i would have noticed, never mind i feel quite tarty, quite why is unknown perhaps only an Elephant in a pink kimono would know or is because i cannot make my mind up about this little picture i came across yesterday whilst encased in a rubber train...during a day trip to the big city of Birmingham where it was not raining and that strange thing in the sky came out to play..every body knew we were from Manchetser because of our long rain coats like some old B-Movie Western slouched hat and an SLR.... and to think the journey was only one and half hours.
This picture made me smile, giggle, sigh, in one motion as perhaps i could have dressed as the young lady at that age, but years down the track perhaps the old camel is better suited..it does not make me sad or even bitter...but simply life is, was,.....for those days when transvestites were tucked away in linen cuboards with labels do not open until after dark except halloween....and indeed i did have rather a super day " i say what, what,"....as always Cities are always full of contrasts..the old, new, decaying buildings, a once fashion icon no longer the driving gait it once was still stood the test of time in a token of silent solitude, the paint seeping off the walls, wind blowing plastic white cups those seemingly to be wrapped around every city in the world...resting in a small corner which always catches the eye...i stumbled across a records collectors fayre bringing back so many memories when all one could do was push ones face against the record shop window for only a sixpence was in ones pocket at that time i think in all my time i bought no more than half a dozen vynal albums......i stuck to buying a few CD"s..for i really cannot change anymore from scope to scope at the stroke of perhaps a business man's lust for the last pound coin in England...over the sound of a particular music note...Found a nice tiny clean Chinese eating house..drank far to much Coco-Cola...with ice through out the day, for i am not one for drinking bubbles on the hop on a day out..i luv..better to wonder at the eye candy which walks past wishing i have breasts that big with a giggle, smell those distinct smells on market day which thankfully Birmingham still has, the fruits and veg..looked stunning and some was quietly bought, The Rag Market was a tiny bit of a sadness for time is marching past it's doors unless you luv hats and i mean hats big enough for KIng Kong to have a bath in..perhaps ...some banter on the platform returning home with a couple of Manchester youth...visiting Brimingham University to get ready for the new entrance of places in the summer...makes up for the drunken youth kicking his drinks bottle across the platform yelling and screaming perhaps he needed a piss....or perhaps he wished his girlfriend to carry it what she thought only God knows....well i think it's time to put my hand bag away smile once more at the picture and say SO Goeth with the adds on of whom ever passes this way have a good week ahead and may peace be with you....

Wednesday 15th March2017.

IF....42million hugs are spread around the world on any given Monday and if you believe man's law of averages, then What does a Wednesday bring then 42million and three...plus a bag of Butlers purveyors of happiness chocolate fudge plus a small bottle of Purdey's Edge multivitamin fruit drink.... which on this dark morning i find myself in one of those multi indifferance moods swung from the arms of a cat on a high wire...i am perhaps neither here or there...perhaps this is simply withdrawl as my Uniform still lies in the wash house...therefore i am on leave for a week naturally i have found myself in the bottom of a bottle of bubbles as evening rides across the day coupled with a fit of old classic films which pop into my head during these times...The Cruel Sea...The Desert Rats....and then there was this...a film i cannot remember if i saw it live during it's release years or simply the DVD..has been a picture i have passed in many a store's stock of films and has stuck inside my head....The Sand Pebbles...starring Steve McQueen Candice Bergen and others...possibly the slowest film i have recently watched in the nostalgia bucket of my life...Steve McQueen...was not the great escape in fact i wondered if it really was him by the time i made up my mind the word..Intermission came across the screen and refused to go away thus ended the film it was the strangest instant recall..should i have rushed out for an ice cream perhaps the film might have restarted...perhaps i should simply say So Goeth...and finish the weeks leave with no bubbles and hence i might make some sense......