A rebel without a clue.

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...