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Sunday 8th January 2012.

The first trinity Sunday of the year...the bubbles in the glass have been playing merry hell,the mind has played games which the captain of the ship cannot quite comprehend,the tight panties of slut yell, howling to the moon..this year i have picked Outlandish as my word for the year ahead, quite where it will take me is perhaps unknown then again perhaps new cocks to suck perhaps not even that, but what ever happens in this year the winds will always blow,the sun will always shrink from view, the fight within the ranks of the forlorn regiment will also howl too....to the march of the pink ribboned hobnailed boots...forlorn maybe, but the practice of English word will weather the storm of dare one even think of such a word, as English, as the climate here in it's own land is well below the tide on the seashore, no wonder my old friend KIng Canute simply smiles as the incoming rush sweeps over his sandals.
If you believe in God then god bless you if not then spank the monkey...so goeth...

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bichoose

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