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Monday 3rd August 2015.

Always..always thankful the first day of the working saddle week is over...those first few hours as dawn breaks..those first few questions that tumble through my mind keep my feet moving over the clod pushing past hedgerows rounding each bend as if it is my first time, the questions are never answered, i would have thought after nearly forty years i would stop asking myself the same questions..perhaps they keep me sane perhaps if i pinch myself i know that it is really me myself and i sat in that tiny red van today...and what ever pours from the wireless or by word of mouth can be fended off to some small corner to bother ants and catterpillars rather than fog my mind into wondering what i am indeed doing....By word of mouth this morning i was told that the Liverpool sixties singer Cilla Black had passed away the usual naughty bits that people can find about her or simply anyone were on the suface climbing up the walls aired on barbed wire fences the glee in some peoples faces make myself know why such as Belson was real....i thought of those few words from one particular song whose title escapes me at this moment..
." Step inside Love " ....sighed a little..my own vanity whispered another part of my childhood is now comitted to the halls of fame....The sixties was a soft cotton wool ball wrapped around me, as i rolled oblivious growing up with super innocent eyes within those years..the ugly words......Fuck................
Off....Masturbation Transvestite...were not even on my radar...as i skipped through each day as if in endless summer....The seventies now there was a decade of Fuck the magic dragon...however it is Monday and i shall finish with so goeth as a tribute to old Hugh Knox....Time indeed to hit the pillow as another day is wrapped away..

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bichoose
bichoose

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