A rebel without a clue.

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I have been sending out out of date CVs, dumb fuck.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...