A rebel without a clue.

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...