As always the month is running away far faster than i can tread in these pink laced hob nailed boots…Today the sky spat at me..they do say the dregs of a Hurricane called Big Bertha was whom, however as it is Monday and i have climbed of the work saddle i think possibly i can for give all the Bertha's in the world who pissed all over me today…work was as ever something to whisper too in some dark corner where only one legged pirates venture and retired Transvestites go bla and pull out their knitting to make woollen condoms.
Mondays are days when i ask myself to many questions and hopefully receive no answers back, the person whom quoted that work is good for you must have been insane or consumed far to much Chardonnay before farting in the wind, i can only think whom was trying in vain to catch such a fart and pin it to the mast of some passing ship or perhaps their own, as they also say we are the Captains of our own ship i say on this eve destiny Fart some where else as i stumble on the bridge of my very own ship…Ha….and so Goeth….