I am also at the end of a weeks leave from the saddle of work..Am i looking forward to Monday should i say bar humbug or perhaps think of life in flight tickets to some glory hole where hotness for my sort dribbles in froth, steam, and Enid Blyton books, where chocolate biscuits melt even on the plate as thoughts about heaviness remain fluent as pass the parcel, as dildo's slip into champagne super nova's and chips covered in salt are simply chips eaten once on out of date newspapers which sometimes, as they should,a nice rest from the media making money out of fear…..a time to go Poo over their words as the salt eats into the soul spawning thoughts along the lines of pink jelly babies which i happen to like, another throw back from youth days where i pushed my face in ladies clothes shop windows i wondered why back then, today i smile someone has to be a transvestite or the world would stop get off and rock a billy in a jerky patten down moon lit cobbled streets where buxom Bras fitted on cut off silent manikins starred out oblivious to a teen staring past the bright lights hearing whispers of buy me if you dare my pockets were empty back then or else…sssshhh….the whispers still remain and the red goblins continue to crawl up my legs as i welcome MARCH…….so goeth…for old Hugh...
Saturday 1st March 2014.
I am also at the end of a weeks leave from the saddle of work..Am i looking forward to Monday should i say bar humbug or perhaps think of life in flight tickets to some glory hole where hotness for my sort dribbles in froth, steam, and Enid Blyton books, where chocolate biscuits melt even on the plate as thoughts about heaviness remain fluent as pass the parcel, as dildo's slip into champagne super nova's and chips covered in salt are simply chips eaten once on out of date newspapers which sometimes, as they should,a nice rest from the media making money out of fear…..a time to go Poo over their words as the salt eats into the soul spawning thoughts along the lines of pink jelly babies which i happen to like, another throw back from youth days where i pushed my face in ladies clothes shop windows i wondered why back then, today i smile someone has to be a transvestite or the world would stop get off and rock a billy in a jerky patten down moon lit cobbled streets where buxom Bras fitted on cut off silent manikins starred out oblivious to a teen staring past the bright lights hearing whispers of buy me if you dare my pockets were empty back then or else…sssshhh….the whispers still remain and the red goblins continue to crawl up my legs as i welcome MARCH…….so goeth…for old Hugh...
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Tuesday 23rd February 2021.
Today is the 2nd anniversary of Peter Tork from the Monkee's passing away,it was one of the few American TV shows allowed to be seen in the home…
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Valentines Day 14th February 2021.
I just want to whisper Bleecker Street..by Simon And Garfunkel...on this romantic eve....and leave it at that, before my words dribble into romantic…
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Thursday 11th February 2021.
February is perhaps my second month of the year which sinks me down into the cabbages of melancholy madness that lazy lob of i'll post a few…
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