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Wednesday 12th November 2014.

My soul, mind,cabbage patch doll,tart, slut, old elephant and possible panto dame how ever one talks to oneself i now have reached the door of my fifty-ninth year....in a few hours it will open....the sayings of youth..the world is my oyster no longer apply..i am more inclined to whisper to myself where have i left my panties,thank god that the working day is over...and where the fuck is retirement....My body declines the offer to be eighteen once more yet the mind still lies in the dreams thoughts of that era....the old fishermans wifes tales of... if i knew then what i know now....are sadly true and is best to not dwell on them to much or indeed the mind might well turn into a cabbage patch doll....
This coming year...i decided to take a few days away from the work saddle open some wine bottles sink into the laughing depths blow bubbles to myself, ask questions, of why people came into my life and vanished just as quick,yet they still remain in my thoughts..the strangest of whom  i saw for a few seconds on a roundabout in perth Western Australia riding in a green mini we stared..we thought, then we both vanished...perhaps i need to shave my armpits..perhaps i should sit on the seashore with my old friend King Canute....mumble words that perhaps i should have opened the car door and screamed....He of coarse will remain silent watch the tide to see the impossible...i will know that at least there is peace somewhere.....in this crazy mad world where Media rules as long as one consumes the right brand of cornflakes..
           Today i am travelling to the shire town of Nottingham to open this door i am leaning on..i can already feel the weight of the Goblins on th other side lets hope not to many have black feet and at least a few green ones wear pink laced hob nailed boots for this old transvestite...so goeth... 



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