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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......

Sunday 12th March 2017.

The only two things i am sure about at this hour is the size of this white blank screen before me and a fresh can of cold IRN-BRU...fizzing away by my side.....Bru'd in Scotland to a secret recipe since 1901....and costing 39pence a can..i scribble this simply because the screen is beginning to fill up with words plus it is all i can read on the can even with reading glasses...simply one of those things to strike a note that age is indeed advancing.
One or two rubber tyres are beginning to pass my window...Sunday is beginning to lurch forward....i have been kindly given one of those head colds by a good companion in the work of the tiny red van syndrome..i did indeed thank him by giving a few troglodytes to munch on..my nose feels full of fire engines with the added restaurant of moth balls for eye sockets apart from that i have survivied another week in my tiny red van..it has as always been interesting the one thing about this trade now in my 36th year..never is any day the same..good and bad with head butts..in any given moment...wrinkled stockings, a pocket full of elastic bands the harshness, delight in some people you cross brings the day in pickled cabbages to a close, there is no finer thing than sitting on the kitchen floor and pulling ones boots off..even better is the uniform sailing down to the wash house in the cellar thinking Jesus Christ i have made it home....
I have this week..watched bumble bees..in mid flight thinking Oooooo....spring is on the march at last....a school boy played chicken with my tiny red van he only just made it by a whisper amazing what male youth performs, strutts, in his age when walking home with school girls..i recall those days myself though i was more sedate in carrying their school bags home for those i was infatuated at the time....some of them i wonder what if and where are they now..my vanity wonders if they do the same..perhaps...
On that note i think it is time for me to join the day...So Goeth...

Monday 6th March 2017.

I should at my age never wish the end of any day...but Monday...is simply one of them, that i cannot help but linger over, by a good riddance washed away in the shower with a heavy sigh of relief, feel that lift in the shoulders and perhaps sing Waltzing Matilda as i step into a warm towel. So Goeth...

Tuesday 28th February 2017.

Good-Bye....February 2017...i won't say i'll miss you to much..i won't rank you out of the last sixty...i am sure i have endured far worse and perhaps had far better..I won't hug you kiss you...or even use a slang word for sex about you....i shall simply sigh and let you go out into the wild wood perhaps where you belong....
I will thank you for giving my vanity a touch of class a reach to the stars and a quick kiss for myself amongst the snowflakes wild winds and perhaps cold sunshine the leaf mould waking up the snow drops forcing daffodils up well before their time...the anti wrinkle cream i bought with a light sigh knowing i am well past that..but at least it smells nice and makes me feel good in this deep mid winter....i have not fallen to your blues in tunes of doom and gloom which at this hour of the night only leaves...So Goeth.... 

Friday 24th February 2017.

I have just time to look in on this blank screen to see that if indeed IT has missed my thoughts this past week, as hairy catterpillars have become entangled within my wrinkled stockings as well as that howling wind Doris....with even myself defence buy out in Chocolate snowmen munching always tomorrow, even this has taken a jolt, the big blank screen has simply smiled as it always does, whom owns whom..? So Goeth..

Sunday 19th February 2017.

Coco-Cola...half a can sits before me...this big white screen is mocking me...blank as perhaps the blankness i feel this Sunday mid-morning, outside this rooms window the rush of rubber tyres onward is increasing as too the day...i have so much in my wish list to complete on this free day that i simply stare and think perhaps next Sunday as the hoard of dust bunnies scamper about poke out tongues from behind piles of books on the floor play hide and seek between dresses hanging on the rail....Work was one of those weeks which is perhaps why half a can of coke sits here hissing bubbles.
I am not melancholy...simply slow motion tired...from the grind of urban living, working, what ever new word sums up the kimono crazyness of it all..thankfully there are moments when driving my tiny red van is a delight...worthwhile and the word hope trundles by also.The Queen..sends out personal cards to those whom reach 100 years old and those whom reach 60 years of bliss....sssshhh...i will whisper that together..in all my 35 years driving this tiny red van last Thursday was only the second one i have hand delivered....the old man was waiting as i drove into the yard....please knock on the door rather than leave the post in the usual place the old gery haired lady in black glasses answered the door it was quite emotional...i even felt myself being caught up in this single emotion on a bleak mid winters day...i left the couple to open the Queens message passing out through the yard thinking gosh where was i in 1957...was the world a better place..no face book..television actually turned off for the night closing with the national anthem..Could one buy Coco-Cola in England at that time..and batman was no where in sight though i expect Elephants could be seen walking down the high street...
The Coco-Cola can is empty time i think to perform something on my wish list...Take care all...So Goeth...

Sunday 12th February 2017.

The weekend has slipped from my grasp once more..the hours have tickled,slapped, oral orgied amongst a field of thoughts rampant as a troglodytes wedding, i can say the free hours from working my tiny red van have been used to slip inside a chardonnay bottle..sing loudly whilst washing after dinner plates during the midnight hour to the tune of Galleries of Pink Galahs...by Mr Australia...John Williamson...the simple small stuff cooks the mind into a peaceful Saturday night, blows the harrows of the working week into the dust bowls of history.
A phone call this morning caused a heavy sigh as i pulled on my wrinkled stockings, pulled off the covers off my tiny red van to roar amongst the crazy streets of Manchester a rainbow of brickwork, traffic bugged roads with everyman and his dog doing the traffic can-can with no sight of any pink elephants around the bend...all this in deep midwinter with ant egg sized snow flakes trying like fook to land on planet earth, it was as if the gods had constipation in barnacled porcelain...however i made it through the whole nine yards with half a smile which left me some time to capture some of the bugs in this small room to form some sort of order where i can at least see the back wall..the clutter within is simply spiffy from a serious biscuit collector like myself with the most famous saying of all time there is always tomorrow.So Goeth...

Tuesday 7th February 2017.

Snow drops have already pushed up through the leaf mould, hang their heads in relief that they have joined the world above ground for another year even though it is such a short time they are most welcome..the bright whiteness is stark amongst the sleeping hedgerows and trees where cast off litter spun from car windows dies in depths of awkward misery...yellow arrow heads of the crazy Welsh Daffodil in some places are fit to burst into flower is it a race against time, is spring really that early, surely Uncle Ben snow drifts are some where camped across the horizon...
Winter in this neck of the woods is hard to spit on without it snapping back and bite yer Bum....Sigh...
There was a tinge of sunshine this afternoon which always makes my soul sing out with a gasp of relief....making the road traffic more bareable encased in my tiny red van, it did not last as traffic early evening lurched in unison to the gasp of giant Elephants walking down the highway as the sun dipped behind the high rise...some one asked when am i going to retire from this red saddle, soon is the thought inside my head, alot of rammbling, talking, a touch of frost, a touch of scare as i enter the last quarter of my life is there a touch of the whole nine yards still beneath my feet..a young lady i work with asked if i wanted her to read out the news on her mobile phone this evening, i declined the offer had she wanted to talk about Chocolate Snowmen then perhaps...After all am i not the captain of my ship....So Goeth...

Sunday 5th February 2017.

Tis but the first weekend of February...my companions this early hour are as always the ticking clocks they are not in unison the sound climbs up the walls drips down from the ceiling...they are a comfort from the mad world where at this time the word Trump..is every breath i take the only places i have not seen that name are on toilet roll and Beer cans..but it will come...it will be a name long after he has gone probably sitting comfortable next to Thatcher....a word long dead but effects are daily lives from the grave...i have promised myself that after this morning i will try and think that word as simply as a word not to put any meaning behind it letting it flow down the river of life stand on the bridge with my old friend Winnie-The-Poo..to throw poo sticks into the turbulant waters.... and whisper God Help Us.....
Yesterday was the birthday of a girl i once loved to bits..as i stood in the evening amongst people celebrating a 50th birthday...having drawn the short straw to drive for the evening sober was the name of the game...strange thoughts cloud through the mind whilst stood at parties as the Beer flows before you...one i simply wanted to go home as the beat from the music turned from the sixties..to the up and coming rap rap....as sometimes the worst place to be is inside your own head in these rooms of heaving people....as these evenings grow into gay abandon thankfully i left before the orgy of beer became a river and strange dances snaked across the small dance floor...on the plus side it was good in this mad world to see the 50th Lady becoming less stressed over enough food on the table and is there enough enough antics for the kids flying around the room to be occupied with. I left behind all the people i did not know and that was the whole room....I also left the other birthday girl of loved to bits in the bottom of the Coco-Cola glass she really did not like transvestites and perhaps i did not like spam anymore...So Goeth...