The random, but sometimes surprisingly connected (but not necessarily lucid), stream-of-consciousness thoughts of an optimistic, heavy drinking, cantankerous, iconoclastic, foul-mouthed, devil worshipping misogynist who gets into fist-fights and lived in a damp barge in the arse end of the Thames and now lives in a caravan and loves to slaughter cats by the flinty light of a full moon while reading poetry.
WEll, you have worked your fingers to the bone.
ReplyDeleteIS that clematis growing up behind ?
ReplyDeleteDid you have Walls sausages for lunch ?
Whatever you did, you're a brick !