A rebel without a clue.

Nothing fills a man when he's hungry for love. I still can't stand the people who run bar thr3. If it wasn't for Thatcher's Katy, platinum blonde Lucy and a short list of options in Wetherby; I'd not even have my funeral there. The way Ron dresses down staff within hearing of the clientele. The music of choice is Rod Stewart singing covers, Barry Manilow somber sad ballads and Muzak on repeat skipping and stuttering on the multichanger. Mum did damage her kneecap. Cracked, broken, busted, 6 weeks in a cast. Makes you wonder how many breaks we all have without investigating further? She's now stuck. Unable to work the garden, walk the dog, do her little jobs, etc. She has to use a kermode and crawl up and down the stairs. I'm her gopher. Saw the most one sided game Saturday. Man united out played and well beaten by skillful and creative Barcelona. Second half especially. 3 shots to 17. Nuff said. Relief. One less trophy for Alex Ferguson. Little known...

Tidy up and serve food.  Fit to burst upon a plate Messy basket and baguette And an interlude I record While consumptive old Rosie Is, wrapped by benevolent booze, Befriended once wouldn't it be Entente cordial and drink fearless Into the daring poured afternoon. Popped to the Nation of Shopkeepers for a couple of Weston's Old Rosie and a chicken burger. Ran into Rachel who used to work in the Southwark Tavern. Seen her in there before and thought I recognized her, but couldn't remember where from. Nice juicy breast, lush mayo and twice fried fries. She recalled my name, but I just couldn't get hers. It was 2009 when I left Rotherhithe for Shropshire. Batteries gone, returned to move my stuff back to 42. Feels refreshing. Emma and I loaded her car. Need to return for a couple of items on Tuesday. My self same room since 1989 is full to the brim. Lots of nights safe and sound. Nice to listen to The Fall on my Musical Fidelity pre/power amp and Mordaunt-Short s...

Fat fuckers eating mr whippy with flake, octogenarian stumbling by guided by that ankled stamp. Pop goes the bubble of over chewing gum; like Lolita but not cute. At the transit of Albion Place and Land's Lane. Some unauthorized hustlers is checked by community support officers. 'who do you think you're talking at?' speaks mother into handset. And they with paper and plastic carriers rush like unwanted flyers blown or flotsam washed high on dirty sand. Up and down while the wind gathers the clouds to pour away the nothing. The man with temporary fancy blowing bird like forever. What an absolute waste: just let me slap yours empty hands! If I could bulldoze all the shops, cafés, restaurants, office blocks, cinemas, petrol stations: what would we have left? Monuments, churches, schools, facilities and many bemused individuals.

When you get me within 2 meters of Facebook and I've had too much to drink I don't know whether I can be held entirely responsible for the series of actions I put in place. The vile and pointless things I may write on chat or on a profile which, while profound to me in the inebriated state, are absolutely disjointed and fragments of a booze troubled mind. 2 such discussions took place yesterday evening. Both pitifully rude and intrusive; plain daft. The detritus of 'Metro', 'Shortlist' and 'Stylist' that follows me on my journey. Waste paper, discarded drinks cans, cola bottles, graffiti on the windows and chairs and the dusty, muddy faded seats. The crummy x98 with it's fading purple seats and glum faced brutes. Paping thin wasting away with cracked and yellowed teeth and salt and pepper hair. I ate all the Ben and Jerry's the night before last and chucked 3 lemon puffs down my neck last night. Fighting my girth again. With boredom comes tid...

It was 7:30 on a Tuesday morning in 1991 on that fateful day. I was dragged to Garforth to be questioned about the drug problems in Wetherby and specifically at the high school. I didn't know this was ever going to happen, I feared another visit from the police was in the offing for an entirely different reason. Luckily my dad was out at work already and it was just my mum and I: my dad had a real temper. My mum didn't know I'd ever done drugs and she was very disappointed and ashamed of me. I was driven in a Vauxhall Cavalier to meet my destiny with fingering prints and mug shots to be questioned. I realize that someone at Wetherby high must've spoken to their parents about the burgeoning drug culture amongst the sixth form(mainly the upper sixth) and word maybe got to a the police to get along and speak to the culprits. To me being invited along for this interview was interesting and experimental: I didn't let the weight of the event effect me perhaps as much as ...

This spring snoops has fallen into a habit of scratching at his door at 5am. His incessant request to be let into our beds and his shifting body, from then until we wake, is making us tired by lunch time. Mum fell heavily on her knee while chasing the Harrogate to Wetherby 770 bus yesterday. I took snoops for a morning swim in the sluggish Wharfe. She's laid up and canceling all her social occasions and suggesting she may need to venture to a&e. Her knee, although bruised and painful, won't be broken as she'd be agonizing and be unable to walk on it? I have tried to talk her out of a long and unnecessary trip to Harrogate hospital. I see that preschools now have a safety measure in place to prevent the kind of accident I had early in my school life. At Loftus Infants/pre school I put my right smallest finger in the space between the hinge and the door and had my finger split from tip to first join. It was my third or fourth memory, one may be false and a memory of m...

I think that I might actually be right and absolutely not alone; oh joy to feel that I am not alone; thank you LP. The capitalist world is lost on a journey of self destruction. Some of us look around and wonder why the majority are greedy, selfish and barbaric. Closed in by the tyranny and violence of a small section of the populace. Open to businesses greedy single erect purpose while government bends to become an anal love child of fawning condescension. Where armies destroy thousands of helpless people for the security of the earth’s limited finite resources, picking on the unfortunate individuals repressed in the backwaters where we find most of the fundamentally precious minerals they need to keep the wheels in motion. Those who allow for no separate plan of humanity except short term financial vying – balance of trade, trade deficit and boom and bust. Men and Women sit on their banks of cushioned thrones and decide divisions of labour in far away lands to present the the more ...

Selectively mute. Anxiety. Weighed down with fear. Was bullied at primary and secondary school, dislike playlike banter and insults.  Reinforces feeling of inadequacy. Being quiet won't hurt. I went to the Inkwell, part of Mind Leeds, in Chapel Allerton. Had a spot of food, coffee, listened to music and a little light comedy. Suddenly Felt I just had to leave. Had no one to talk to there. Same feeling of wanting to hide away. Didn't want to look in the eye of anyone there. Just travelled back on 48. No idea why this palpitating keeps coming back. I am threatened by this end.  Inkwell maybe does well for those knocking on heavens door. I might be closing in on that, but not yet: not right now. Some of the artwork on display is genuinely brilliant. Some is half hearted. Some delicate sketches of bodies and a few in a post-impressionistic style. I am en-route to Cornwall again. 3/4 months of slog and sun and sea too. Always a job needs doing in a tourist town. I'm bring...

And she's doing cuts and colours... A rhythm of chops, shears, snips Complete in vibrant gloss style Us women eating gristle and skin Puckering with blood stained lips A cuticle removed by rusting file Rouge tinged cheeks hiding. Why do we sleep? What does it do to our hopes and dreams? It always seems so hard to get, yet we find ourselves there in a second without our knowledge. I have always wondered when sleep comes; in which disguise. While I lived with Glenn we went to Prague for a few days the first week of September. We arrived at the Czech Inn , our backpackers in Vinohrady, on a Tuesday evening around 10pm, having taken the usual bus and tram route from the airport. We were very excited to have ventured out on Jet2 at such a handsome price, this is before budget airlines added lots of additional costs, and had only paid £50 return. Once we'd chucked our baggage in the shared dorm on the 1st floor, quickly saying hi to our room-mates, we went down into the ...

No idea what was happening on Monday to make me feel so panicked. I told Matt at North I was sinking into bad depression. There is numerous separate problems that spread from Monday to Friday that are pushing me closer to alcohol oblivion at the weekend. A job, a calm peaceful flat, something else in leeds, money and some mental relief. Took to bed at 11:30 last night having taken beta blockers and Kalms. Unwound until around 12:30, but even with ear plugs in could hear the various sounds of this deafening abode. Laid turning over and over unable to turn off. Fear was in my head. However he returned along around 12:30 alone. Still I turned and rolled in a heightened state. My arms ached and pulsated. I couldn't relax them. Must've slept at 2 or 2:30am. Then awoke at 6am and I am in the hazy post drugged sleep deprived state. I feel nothing except my body is stretching and yawning and wanting to return to sleep. My earliest clear memory is being in an ill state. We lived u...

I've had one of them days. From first leaving the house with the north westerly creaking through the trees. To returning to the mess of 97. It's a cursed day. 23 May 2011 you will be infamy. I will now quit this no go. I can't maintain this unreal drifting in the tower of doom. While the hurricane spins around the banks of the Aire and beyond. Bringing brimstone and frightening ferocity that would try to remove us who are sinned against. More sinned than sinning. I have no options here.

Wow. Flaming pie. Religion. It's like a blind alley for helplessly chased refugees. No where to go but down and down to the brick wall of supposed salvation. We don't know. To believe is an oxymoron. If I believe the world is made from soiled Japanese school girls panties does this belief make it incontrovertible? Belief presupposes stupidity and ignorance and maybe a desperate need to justify an incredible thing in human terms. A revelation is a kin to trapped wind or the passing of a wet shit into the toilet of insanity. Look at the bible: it is a book. Hundred of years old, and full of the rules, ethics and morality of the human race but essentially a moral tale with lots of faith bound lessons. Enough. There is no point in justifying your existence to a book. It is written by humans, prove me otherwise. 

You see, today I am staring at utter despair. I can't see any future for me. Every thing I ever wanted is gone. I'm just plodding along without any clue what this life is all about. I sink so often that I only recover because, as long as I get over today, there isn't any further emptiness I can feel. Every thing I do is empty.

It isn't as bad as you think: it removes you from the lenders and banks various grasps. You have to wait for 6 years to get back to a positive credit rating it seems, but you are left without any anxiousness and sleepless nights fretting about bailiffs and debt collection calls. I fell for the trap of loans, credit, overdrafts and higher purchase with the promise of have now and pay later lifestyle. While my wage was scant enough to pay my debts I tried always to subsist within the luxury provided by numerous credit cards and loans while my take home was squeezed to an impossibly low level. When I was asked to leave by Coors Brewers in 2003, due to my health issues, I had huge and unsupportable debts that made my overall state of mind worse and sent me into a real break down. I started seeing a Counsellor and a Physiologist through Coors and Bupa, health care provided by work, in June and July 2003, we discussed the reasons for my declining mental state and it became apparent ...

I have decided to remove some of the uncontrollable hairs flourishing all over my shoulders and back. I feel that I am looking grizzly like the Sasquatch. I do dislike the rampant sprouting of hairs everywhere but on my head. But you're a man, I hear you say, get a hold of yourself! I'm gonna Veet myself on Thursday. The wind is gusting today, up to 70 mph, and it's whistling through the trees, it's fairly humid with it and in the distance I can hear the incessant wail of a car alarm. My tax repayment claim is sent recorded delivery. I have £500 to come back to me from 2 years of overpayment. Very useful as I can pay off the credit card; the last debt I have since my bankruptcy in 2007. It would be great to have a level playing field if I am to earn this haphazard wage while working for the city council. Interesting Saturday watched Kirk Deighton 2nd's knock up 240 in the cricket in 45 overs. Dan, Nick with his son Cameron, Scott and co. Some cide...

Old clothes. I find it hard to throw away a load of clothes from the early 1990's. I have a cabinet filled with a number of tee-shirts and jumpers I will probably never wear again and a few items on hangers that sit there looking uncomfortable and unwanted. SF mentioned the orange quilted Chipie jacket I wore to every acid hazed event from 1989 to 1998, until it was literally worn out. It is sat there in my wardrobe reminding me of other times: fond and simple times. Been in Leeds for 2 whole nights so far, a third tonight and a whole days work in a school on Friday. I'm looking forward to this as it's more like what I want to do; I think? Made an effort on the food front last night. Bought strong flour from Millies and created luxurious homemade pizza a la Leodis. Blanched asparagus spears, refreshed in cold water, slow baked santorini tomatoes, wilted rucula, buffalo mozzarella, rosemary and four cheese sauce as the base. Flawless. I offered one to Anthony, bu...

December 7th 1941 is a day that will live in infamy. Walls that are composed from sandstone are eroded in time. No coffee since Tuesday morning. I am very tired. Fair to say I am thinking of nothing to write. I'm battling an addiction I didn't know I had. Perhaps five cups of brewed coffee a day at most. I am tired and could've followed yesterday's golden slumber from 3:30pm until 8:30pm. When most of the nation was preparing to head for home, family and dinner I drifted away. Why building college? There isn't anything to build. The conservatives will put a stop to any public building projects: that leaves private corporate enterprise when all the banks won't lend. I am in a strange paralysis which hopefully a triple espresso can shift? That derrière is marble. The Oreo invasion: we have our own biscuits. Fuck off back to the States! May? Yep the weather says it all: sunny, but often windy and cloudy. Just had a look at ...

I am slowly building up to explode. I feel like the answer I have been waiting for is ready to present itself to me. I sense it is a final and certain destiny. It's just beyond me now, but I feel like it's in me. Some explosion of angst and frustration that means all I've lived for in 39 years is stoking the furnace of confusion and muddle. Every time I sit in company or near company I begin to panic that I will wobble and deflate in a stare or glance. Only today in Waitrose I couldn't act normally or inhesitantly when purchasing my few items: 2 mozzarella, cherry tomatoes, Maldon salt crystals and discounted sausages. Some guilt was on my face: like I was using a stolen credit card to purchase these items. I couldn't look convincingly into the cashiers eyes. I felt weighted down by manifestations of guilt. I'm surprised I wasn't also blushing. Blushing for my poultry fayre? I absolutely have no idea. I feel almost that the person I am facing might catch me ...

If you happened to see a ghost how could you be sure it was a ghost? Other than approaching the ghost and asking, quite politely, 'are you a ghost?' If you let that ghost walk by then you could never know for sure. If you were to ask someone you thought was a ghost if they were a ghost, and they weren't, what expression would that person take? I see lots of people close to death, but today I watched a ghost cross from the County Arcade to the Thorton Arcade. The clue that led me to believe this man was a ghost was the locomotion employed to cross the distance of those 30/40 feet and his pale and shadowy persona. I am looking at other people in the same space, but they don't maintain that same corpse distinction. The greyness and the physically tinged aspect.

What is this bean which demands so much o'er us? Half the planet over is in ruin in barista or plantation growers Or major corporate density method. Where once tea was the madness that we shared Now coffee is the branch of chains Like slaves rowing to a distant land Locked synchronized we spend all alone Maybe in huddles or meeting Where poets and revolutionaries once demanded more.

Dogs are clumsy and generous Cats are dainty and mean Dogs are rough and ready Cats are shirts and tidy Dogs might whiff a bit Cats will usually smell serene Dogs take a life of walking Cats make a life of stalking Dogs can't take solitary life Cats are happier on their own Dogs are part of the family Cats scorn friendship alone. Dogs are always hungry Cats are usually lean Cats make giant furballs Dog licks their balls But the they both make us happy When we return after a long day From the trials and tribulation Of that thing we call an occupation

Today, what of it, that is left I brought you rocket, olives and bruschetta bread For me the stage was set for resting amongst the noises feeding my head Right amongst the section of architects stones stood such spitting scholar Closed eyelids and puffy face while waiting to face heavens appeasement The craft of which you speak hasn't levened cleavers leaving me dead and hollow. My pedimental marble is cold and unfeeling framed against a rattling voice. Fucking further than I forsaw from the distance of 5pm and 8pm.

Oh no, I have developed an abscess in my left earlobe. It regularly bleeds when I squeeze it slightly. I think it's appeared where I used to have a piercing? It's like a bump that feels empty until I start playing with it. If I don't touch it it never disappears. At times it is larger than at other times. I discovered I have a new one on the lobe of my right ear last night, but that ear was never pierced. They both bleed and when they bleed they're are slightly sore after, but not intensely so: infact the gentle pulsating pain is soothing. I took one antisemitism look around Starbucks and decided I couldn't pay for my antisemitism: came to Caffe Nero Espresso Bar on Albion street (good old romantic Albion Street) and away from Kosher Coffee. Hitler and co. were trying to kill all Jews in Europe before they were defeated. It was a desperate game they were in. They knew they had no time but had to achieve this one goal, as if the world post war depended on it entire...

What might've been? Victoria Street. The house @ £41,000 in 1995. Almost £29,000 above the candy shop. Simon Gordon and I. Stability and possibilities. No real risk when looking back. I was working at ROCOM. I was banking with Barclays. I had a PEP. No chance with Victoria Street. Not enough space in the second room to rent out. Large enough for a baby, bairn or child. But Crossley Street was a blank canvas. Was an office. 4 large rooms on 2 floors. It's now 2 flats. Shit we missed our chance there didn't we Muller? Why would a young mum of chav nature feed her child crisps: Wotsits to keep it quiet? Manufactured horrible. What will that young body do with all that hydrogenated fat and processed food? Why are you so oblivious? This journey to and fro proves to me there isn't any hope for England. As Daniel, Megan and I set off for Cable Beach, Broome we were coming towards a road kill with 2 birds picking at the leftovers on the Tarmac. Only as we got close enou...

Just why  Why just ice. Ice just ice. There isn't any just ice. When I'd returned from Melbourne in 2000 my first decision was to take any temping job: I registered at Spring Personal and after the preliminary test to ascertain my typing rate I was called and offered a job at Limewood House temping in metering as a data entry clerk. I had worked for YE before my travels and I assumed I'd just pick up where I'd left off. However, after I'd turned up to the job, been told what to do and spent half a day processing sheets of data into a dumb terminal I realized I could never ever return to the me of 8 months ago. There was no way after the freedom I'd enjoyed in Australia I could return to a moody, dark, oppressive clerk position I'd had for 2 years prior. I literally could not take the boring repetitive  process and had to speak to my HR rep at Spring at lunch time telling her this was not for me. Even now 11 years later I can't take being boxed in an...

I have been sending out out of date CVs, dumb fuck. They have no information post 2009. I need to be a little more thorough if I'm ever going to get a job? Had a lovely night at Bracken Edge. Thai/oriental themed night. Won tons, satay chicken, temporah. Went to bed at 9:30. Woke up at 5:30 fully wide awake. Got a Tropicana orange and lime from the fridge, chucked the dog out my room and went back to land of slumber until 9. Our end of term/year/school party began at The Buck in Rufforth 1992 and can only be recalled as a drug fueled climax to my A levels. The copse is a smaller wooded bowl just on the border of Wetherby and Kirk Deighton. It is somewhere that youths must've played out there lives for many many years as it is rugged and secluded and out of adult eyes. I think it was always planned to spend the graduation here. Burning the midnight oil and taking copious amounts of LSD. I can recall getting 30 trips called 'bullseyes' each bullseye made up 4 tri...

A breakfast of Iranian figs, beetroot juice before our trip across the fowl mouthing feature. To trip along and languidly design upon St. Mawes. Carpaccio, Cornish duck. Lucky I have money to roll in for forming luxury. Tips? Pinot grigio. Tiefffenbrunner alto adige, 2008! Spot on for lunch with carpaccio. Nearly Austrian. No cliched Italian veneizan. Hmmmm. Rested finally from heavy week. Sinking my teeth into duck about now! S. Pellegrino and plonk. The simplicity of the dark duck meat cake at hotel was excellent: confit. How would the addition of a slight crunch, like of hemp seeds, have affected that plate? The meal didst skin me, but I am grateful at £38.

I am out of the tunnel. Into the bright. I can see the distant lights. I no longer peer from the reverse end of binoculars at the world. To touch the sun and not get burnt is the quest. It is our only rational god. It appeases our daydreams as it shines on our barnets. The anti-D's are registering I think and also the persistant nice weather helps: I can hear the merry singing of a song Thrush. Baby it's alright. It's alright. Sarah Blasko. I'm dipped in the murky and shady underworld of espionage during WW2. We were desperate not to lose all to Nazi Germany. We played games in Washington just to persuade FdR, etc to save our broken corpse and in the long run also save the USAs bacon whilst at the same time the Germans and Russians were both striving to keep the Americans as isolationists. It exposes the many layers that Britain has that're fundamental to it's body politk. The many faceless gentlemen club members who schooled at Eton, worked thr...

What a messy day sunday was: all day in bed. I didn't feel quite normal until 3ish and only left the house at 3:30. Water, cider, water, cider, cider. Chelsea poor, season done and dusted. Home at 8pm for a slap-up dairylea and ham warburton-a-thon. Guess who is there: Snoops. A whole day early, nice. Feel happy with a few chance encounters this weekend that make me feel a little less abandoned entirely. On Sunday I was most impressed with C. Such a fruity and lusty thing. A plaything with pendulous breasts with a deep inviting cleft between and a right curvaceous body and a nose twinkling with delight. Hair off red turning violet or deeper crimson. Just loves to tell stories in a giddy prose. Lucy Saturday: short platinum blonde with full pouting lips and wonderful hips. I catch a glimpse of laced white bra and the swell of her charms. My eyes linger. She has bright blue eyes that sparkle in the afternoon light. She is a prize. I forgot my bank card so 1 pint then back for a r...

Discovering Michael Chapman, from Hunslet, Leeds, via Cornwall, John Martyn and Roy Harper.  I have mistaken May for summer and now it's raining and I have no jacket to wear. I've written up yesterday's journal over a filter coffee and a refill and the free wifi that makes that Jewish hegemony worthy, just. Mum's new guy is taking her to Otley. She's taken her Vivitar par excellence hd movie camera on this grey and wet day. (We sell boxes We box sellers We boxers sell Our unused gloves Eventually.) I think that the whole second world war was staged so the Yanks could take over the planet. Why did Hitler declare war on the USA when he was fighting the soviet Russians and British Empire already? What a stupid man or was it a vast plan for the slow tortoise to be there at the end when the blitzkrieg went nowhere and didn't succeed in the time necessary for the policy? Shear weight of numbers and resources won the war in Europe. The evilness of the naz...

That person again outside Betfred: this is ubiquity...repeat is this Wetherby's characteristic ubiquity? Bar3 has removed Katy and Thatcher's cider from their pumps so there isn't a single reason to go there any more and I wandered to bus stop to see I have two choices either 30mins or and hour. I decided to kill 30 minutes however I don't know why but I just took a step down in my mind. I stepped into the facsimile that was the New Inn(est. 1900) for a woeful pint of Strongbow, with respect the Carling of the cider world. As this is where I spent most of my teenage times and 20's it nice to look in just for old times sake and maybe one of my old chums would be there to talk to. I concentrated seeing not a real apple anywhere and no one I really knew. People in 2's watching the night descending on benches built for 4 near the bandstand. There is something tangible with the warm weather and the slow turgid ponderousness of the Wharfe as it slowly loses its...

M onkey puzzle trees right, left and left left. A solitary weeping willow too. Arranged around the Eastgate/Quarryhill roundabout, which is now disused where once there were fountains and before that a Fina Garage. I am travelling back towards Wetherby on the 3rd of May and I am telling myself I need to visit Mind, the mental health charity, on Kirkstall Lane, and I must venture there soon. This bus always takes the same forsaken route to get out of Leeds; with its bland 'To Let' bulldozed wastelands, low rise warehousing with its pulled down shutters and a Nissan flagship and another few dozen flurried showrooms which are so out of place in this cheap rent part of Leeds. Where the very nature itself springs from the roofs of too often forgotten Victoriana: Tailors', Machinists' and Pressers' Trade Union on Cross Stamford Street . From behind me on the bus I hear the sound of second hand 'r n b', the dumb and chavie youths music of distinction, but ...

What more do I need...except weather like today, birds chirping and geese chattering, snoops in the river fetching the whole breadth of the channel, the distant sounds of a prop plane, golfers striking clubs on balls, swallows diving over the calm shrinking waters, joggers...work, relationships and money perhaps? A thrush is my mothers garden searching for food, grubs in her hanging baskets and plant plots while snoops lays supine on his cream polyester throw and snoozes content after our 2 hour hike and swim(he swam). Snoops stretches and swallows. Leaning backwards as his breath settles into that sighing deep satisfied slumber. Some how that feeling has spread to me. On returning to the house I curled up next to the dog and dropped to sleep. Out for 2 hours. By 2:40 I'm in the garden still following the dogs singular example: lingering over sleep, but the choral tunes I hear prevent my drifting like an ancient man. Slightly irregular day. Off to Leeds 4:20. Bus has 4...

If only I knew how to break out of this persona I have become. I know it follows some very repetitively bland pulses and rhythms. Everyday seems to be about getting up just to get back into bed again that same day or even in a wider scope just like living each day just towards some final longed for moment. This isn’t good I can see that, but why can’t I shrug off that feeling and the demented persistent bashing of my head I currently maintain? I follow the same never ending paths that actually lead me nowhere. I will get up tomorrow walk the dog, get on the bus, get to the flat in Leeds, change clothes, take my pills, look at the mess in the living room, feel the coldness of the emptiness of the flat, smell the fetid and rank stale odours, etc. To find there aren’t any jobs but there is yet more manufactured bad news; then I'll haul back to Wetherby, along the same bus route I have been using since 1983, after no one has spoken to me all day, while trying not to spend any money w...

Gonna get me a gun The smell of oil, grease Pointed towards my head Drifts leaden to my mind Pull a trigger for release Pull a trigger for fun? Is this the saddest find The saddest dies in deed. 

Got up and about for 7:50. Ran bath, washed and brewed coffee. Spoke to mister dogg and told him he's my favourite dog. Off to Leeds for a night to try to find another job. Still not heard from Salsa Mexicana's. Boring old persons on bus. Discussing decline of magpies and cook-coos.  Yes yes: no no. Yes yes they do yes yes. Yes it is. Yes it did. Honest that's what they say! Yes they have, hmm, they have yes. Consanguinity so much to answer for. I recall ignoring DG on Sunday afternoon as he endeavoured to attach himself to me. I can't stand him for a good reason. A person who I used to look forward to seeing immensely all the way from School, through Uni and up to a few years ago. This is only my observation, but he has real issues when he drinks too much and becomes a vibrant example of a sex pest. There is a dividing line in the night between normal discussions and openly obsessive fantascism and I think I want the old Dave back. The swallows have arrived. Wh...