Perhaps tomorrrow i might dwell on the future with the hope that somewhere down the road it will not be so full of doom and gloom as it seems to be at this moment in time, as i embark on a small visit to the city of Lisbon strapped inside a tin plane more likely drift thoughts into fook the Manchester weather than the word hope....at this very moment the Gods are throwing large buckets of piss across the window the sky is so dark God has not changed his underpants for some weeks and is howling to have those rags changed..this is a true English summer in North England....but hey i'm not living in Australia in all that sunshine perhaps God has never heard of the place perhaps he does not like ice cold beer.
However tis but time to close shower pack the old travelling clobber...for the alarm clock will shrill at three-thirty am..the things us Brits will do for some sunshine....So Goeth....
