Not much doing

Autobiographical, Uncategorized

Now what does the man who has everything to write about and nothing to say actually write about? Well those people at the job centre wanted me in on Monday to answer their ridiculous questions. Happily I found something more important to do, like looking for or trying out a potential employer. How that goes or is going in terms of longer term employment is another matter. Right now I do not actually give a damn and have a hundred better things to bother my head about instead. Whatever my reasons for not attending, not going has provided me sometime to get on and do other things, I think the potential employer likes me however the next couple of days will demonstrate that. I can wait and in the meantime I am doing just fine and getting next years academic studies sorted out, Creative writing no, more history yes. Modern world 1919-present very much so. Writing about Nazis and Hitlerian policy for sure, slashing Marxist thinking into the mire certainly. Actually apart from the introductory notes, I have little idea of what the syllabus contains. But it continues from where I left off and that makes sense to continue so, creative writing can wait for another day. In the meantime I will stick to the gardening and make occasional forays into the looking for work thing. I am not going to repeat myself regarding my misgivings about this activity, it appears to only create misery, pain and anguish.

I am not a fan of any of these things. In other news J is away for an extended period and has been since last week. Hopefully she will be back in circulation sometime soon and the loud Dog has been complained about too, so hopefully that will also be rectified in due course. What else? Oh yes. Oh fuck. TBH I am more interested in researching right wing rock bands than writing just now. The words are not coming out as much as I would like them, perhaps I need a break and a mug of tea. Oh hell I only have that herbal stuff available and nothing containing caffeine. is going for a walk out to the shop a viable option? I can hardly cycle, seeing as the boneshaker was pinched last week. Which in actuality did me a favour, it was in shit state, needed a ton of work doing and was only getting worse. Time to get a new machine and get some more cycling miles under my belt without the risk of dodgy brakes, gearing and numerous other defects, I like the assurance a well maintained bike gives its user. I must also pay the rent, apparently buying a new washing machine is no excuse for not having done so. Perhaps I ought go round some peoples doors and ask for the debts they owe me, or more truthfully stop kidding myself that people owe me anything. They are not daft enough to borrow from me. Plus it is more the case that I owe them.

Clear out the savings account, find a sustainable source of income, rob the bank, win the lottery or whack a rich person over the head and pinch their wallet. There are many ways to get rich, not all of them reliable, many of them illegal and mostly not worth bothering with. In my misspent youth I used to rob out all sorts of places, always the big companies. I don’t know how much I stole, but it did not benefit me one inch, do I have anything to show for it now? Do I fuck, I am as skint as when I started and though my wallet may not be exactly bulging, I am wealthier than I have ever been. Riches do not always come in wads of bank notes, more precious are those counted in wisdom, life experience those things money cannot buy. I was thinking of going doing some gardening and found myself writing instead. Perhaps gardening will come next, there is rubbish to clear up. Later on I must cook food or starve and after that probably some painting. Then I shall sleep

Plant Based Laundry Detergent

Autobiographical

To my great pleasure I discovered I have one bottle of cider. That means apart from a small amount of Port wine there is bug all to drink in the house. I have no plans to buy any more for at least 24hours and shall see how things are tomorrow. I may not even drink anything this evening, though the cider is quite tasty and the Port… Well I am concerned it might evaporate, though if stored correctly it ought be ok for a few more days. I have no immediate plans to withdraw from alcohol completely, that would be irresponsible and it has been tried before. Then, at least I had a very good reason, it made me violently ill. Now I just feel like having a break and like any good alkie I am taking each day as it comes. In the meantime I am contemplating putting the washing out on a day when rain is on the menu and thinking about the other load that is in the machine, washing. Where and how I am going to be putting stuff out to dry is another question,happily we are forecast sunshine and dryness tomorrow so there may be a clue in that. In the meantime the ground is being watered and the snails are coming out to play, my plans to thwart their activities having come to naught. It is really slashing it down now and those towels are not getting any drier.

Part of a project exploring the human journey, spirituality and our connection to the universe and everything. My first piece of Painted work

Grey skies and foul weather can be and often are connected with low mood and depression, today however my mood is pretty good and for that I am quite grateful. The venturing into town later on though will test my patience and other things a little bit. Oxford city centre is apart from the nice buildings a shit hole and you may be pleased to hear enough has been written on that subject, if you don’t believe me come and visit the wretched place for yourself. To alleviate the ordeal I will probably visit this and find some inspiration perhaps for my own creativity. In other news, I am a coward and am avoiding speaking to an untrustworthy individual who wants me to do his garden. I do not trust the low down dog and suspect (not without foundation) that he wants to bring me into his church. He is a fool, albeit a clever one and I am a Roman Catholic and immune from such stuff and nonsense. This person stiffs his employees and tells untruths about his actions. However he coughs up the goods when people stick needles in wax dummies or the next nearest alternative. Maybe I ought to bite the bullet, grab my balls and phone the bastard and tell him I am not interested in his stuff or the work he is offering. He can get his Ukrainian refugees to do the work instead, telling him that would be really fun. Maybe that is the problem at hand and they never appeared at the airport, running off to visit family and friends instead.

What else? oh yes I have been painting again and am currently working on a large plank of wood, having ditched the idea of using a canvas for this piece of work. Elsewhere probably like a lot of artists, I have a load more work that is slowly being worked through. The rain has stopped, I need to organise some business cards and the garden wants some work doing, perhaps I ought to get up earlier. I go to bed early enough, so doing this will not impair me too much if at all, in fact it may well be beneficial certainly allowing for more working hours available to me throughout the day. There again not drinking so much will also play a part in this and that can only be a good thing

Sweet Pickled Baby Onions

Autobiographical, mental health

I recently got back in touch with an ex. This is not as some of you may think J. We have never really stopped speaking to each other. No it is a case of going back in time a few more years and saying T. T came before J and J came after A. Much as I did not think it would happen, T wrote back. She had been to Stonehenge, that was yesterday. Today my new washing machine arrived, it is a quiet machine and does not make ridiculous tunes when you ask it to do something. It is going to need some detergent at some point, the powder stuff is being swapped for the liquid formula (probably) It is easier to use, takes up less space and a host of other factors. My plan for going out and getting it this afternoon are now off. The shops close soon, due to Sunday Trading. Do you have such nonsense where you live? Perhaps you live in a more modern and up to date country than here. Somewhere where you do not have people sleeping in cardboard boxes on the streets and food banks in your super-markets. Your employers may well even pay a decent and sustainable wage to their staff. Your political leaders may even appreciate putting their own country first before conducting dodgy foreign policy initiatives that don’t actually concern them.

Jesus the woman next door has a huge arse, it’s no good my telling her I would like to spank it, as she hates my guts. My feelings towards her are not so amicable either and even less so since that unpleasant dog appeared on the scene. Never mind, there are better things to be occupying my mind. Like what am I going to say to the job centre tomorrow? Oh yes I know, my anxiety is messing me up and I have an intense dislike of crowds and people generally, am awful with employers (Ninety At the last count) Don’t like working set hours or wearing a uniform. All of them true and definitely worth mentioning. I work on my own terms now and for whom I want to work for. Doing the kind of work that I like and want to do. That way I preserve my mental health and feel less inclined to become argumentative and perhaps troublesome.

Talking about mental Health, I have again perhaps been drinking too much, certainly buying too much, which equates to the same behaviour either way. I need to and want to drop the drinking (At least a little bit) And focus more on creativity and getting things done. Things like business cards, website development and a bunch of other things too. As daft as it may sound , decline invitations out and stick to the business of self improvement and creating a business. Doing that, may just improve my situation in the world, as will getting out a bit more and doing some self promotion. Sounds a little nerve wracking, but could be very rewarding and that’s the bit to focus on. Ignoring the negatives and marching on towards ones goals, keeping unpleasant people out of ones life and welcoming pleasant people in. In doing these things we may well achieve something, not quite Nirvana,but something very similar. The sooner I get on and do this, the sooner I can stick two fingers up and leave this wretched place. That last bit, will ultimately be determined by the correct configuration of stars and planets, not by my own actions. As tempting as that course at times may be, it is not the way, not in this life anyway.

J sent me the following a couple of days ago and it is so true as to be shared here;

“An artist must regulate his life.

Here is a time-table of my daily acts. I rise at 7.18; am inspired from 10.23 to 11.47. I lunch at 12.11 and leave the table at 12.14. A healthy ride on horse-back round my domain follows from 1.19 pm to 2.53 pm. Another bout of inspiration from 3.12 to 4.7 pm. From 5 to 6.47 pm various occupations (fencing, reflection, immobility, visits, contemplation, dexterity, natation, etc.)

Dinner is served at 7.16 and finished at 7.20 pm. From 8.9 to 9.59 pm symphonic readings (out loud). I go to bed regularly at 10.37 pm. Once a week (on Tuesdays) I awake with a start at 3.14 am.

My only nourishment consists of food that is white: eggs, sugar, shredded bones, the fat of dead animals, veal, salt, coco-nuts, chicken cooked in white water, mouldy fruit, rice, turnips, sausages in camphor, pastry, cheese (white varieties), cotton salad, and certain kinds of fish (without their skin). I boil my wine and drink it cold mixed with the juice of the Fuschia. I have a good appetite but never talk when eating for fear of strangling myself.

I breathe carefully (a little at a time) and dance very rarely. When walking I hold my ribs and look steadily behind me.

My expression is very serious; when I laugh it is unintentional, and I always apologise very politely.

I sleep with only one eye closed, very profoundly. My bed is round with a hole in it for my head to go through. Every hour a servant takes my temperature and gives me another.”
― Erik Satie

MONDAY MORNING

Autobiographical, Uncategorized

So a few days ago I started being pursued by an admirer on IG, the usual format, fallen in love, bit boobs, engaging smile… Scam. My love life has not improved since, though I expect it could have got a lot worse if I was stupid enough to fall for that old trick. In the meantime I have been doing the garden, relaxing and being productive with a number of things going on. I have also made my excuses not to go into city today, I really cannot face the Dog awful place, the crowds, stink, dirt and general horribleness of the place. I have told the JC people and need to rest my head today. My anxiety shoots through the roof just thinking about that place, let alone going there. As a curative, I am going to be doing things here instead, vacuuming is out, as the cats are asleep and I do not wish to disturb them. I may go and paint the kitchen wall, or at least wash the walls down first, then do the painting. It will brighten the place up a treat and is much wiser than spending a fortune on having the place re-done professionally. I have the tools and know how and like to be creative, so why not?

Wall tiles are now clean, at least on one side of the kitchen. I have even scraped off the horrid wallpaper, that was previously underneath some tiling I removed previously. Now I have to decide whether to plaster the site over, make it fresh and paint or just bang a cupboard up there and tidy it afterwards. The tile painting is going to wait a little while until I have both sides cleaned and ready, I want to complete the operation with as little fuss as possible. In the meantime I must eat something and tidy the mess created. I have the strangest feeling the washing machine is going to move house quite soon and I will be learning some basic plumbing techniques at the same time. However first things first, the weather has brightened up, so I may go and do some gardening, or shall I paint? Too many decisions.

As it has happened, I sat down and watched a cowboy movie instead, the garden can wait. I would like to get the kitchen floor done, but need a warm day to open the windows and let it all dry out. Also I would have to mop the floor and a load of other exercises, none of which appeal to me right now. To compensate for all of this, I will be going training later on and blow off some more steam there. I have been doing some painting, but nothing what I would call complete is ready to be posted here

IRMA GRESE PART TWO

Autobiographical, Uncategorized

So I was asked a couple of days ago if I had blogged of recent, this I guess is my response to that question. I am not writing cause I now feel obliged to, far from it, it was on my mind in any case and that served as a catalyst for getting things done. Having got my last assignment out of the way helps too, it means my energies can be better spent elsewhere, here or perhaps in the garden, though the weather is grey, dull and thoroughly un-summer like. Which despite my own love of sunshine makes it a rather good time to go and do things out there. The weeds need hoeing, the hedge needs a CHOP and the lawn needs pricking and re-sowing because right now it looks like a moth eaten rug. Gardens can and do provide a whole area of pleasure away from the drudge and bore of life, help us to deal with our life stresses and any attendant bogies we wish to deal with. They may also provide a pleasant means of earning an income, certainly if you find the right sort of person (people) to work for. In any case it is better than working in a shop or similar environment, I had to inform the Job centre place about the dangers of forcing me into a job involving those places, I hope to fuck they have paid attention. After my making it very clear that all I really want to do is write, draw and do the garden On explaining everything else is non negotiable with risks attached, they let me go. On second thoughts it is probably better not to repeat my ideas of mass murder. They may take my seriously.

some completed work

What is it they don’t understand about 87 previous employers anyway?

some incomplete work

Employment aside. I have been painting again and now have a large pile of WIP, this comprises of several paintings of Nazi’s, some naked women and a few other bits and bobs. Amongst the bits and bobs are several paintings of Irma Grese, a subject I have explored previously and will no doubt explore again. In the meantime I will have to improvise in terms of pictures for the day as none of what I have downstairs is complete yet and it would be a shame to share anything that is not yet complete. In the meantime if you want to look at anything new, you can switch to HERE and see some other work that may not have been already published. That aside, it is now time I think to go make a mug of tea and am delighted mention that the missing packet of chocolate biscuits has been recovered which will make the tea drinking all the more rewarding and pleasant. The sky is still grey and crap looking,at least it is not raining, which reminds me the greenhouse needs watering.

CELEBRITIES AND THE BRAIN DEAD MIND

art and culture

So last week I think it was, time moves quite fast around here. I threw a load of artwork out, it has cleared the house somewhat and freed up the energy too. In case you are wondering no it did not go in the bin, it went to a charity shop where they kindly relieved me of my burden. That is not to say they took everything, some of that work had nude or nearly naked women on it. People can get upset by that you know and the offending pieces are in the back of the car awaiting disposal, this includes the celebrity collage. Which are featured on here today. Together with a all the old collage work went some of my earliest paintings, they all needed a new home. Saying that I have kept the Fish wife as it amuses me, it now hangs above the stairs. Who knows in time even that may go the same way as everything else, but not right now.

What else? Oh yes I have been doing some DIY house painting and the final touches are now being sorted out, the floor in the back room is being painted a nice sandstone colour. It is far nicer than the Grey concrete hue from previously. My only complaint, the stuff stinks like blazes and takes an age to dry. I may have to do a windowsill at some point, there again I may just leave the sod. I have had enough of paint for the time being and shall be retreating to the garden instead. The weather is nice, the birds are singing so why not? Plus I get to watch things growing and everything going to plan, eat them as well. For everything else there is a final assignment to write for university and then fuck knows, I may even relax a bit before something else seizes my imagination. In fact I think not relaxing is what does my head in, by that I mean sitting around and twiddling my thumbs. Listening to or reading the so called news. I find it ever the more important to focus on positivity those things that make me smile, laugh and give me inspiration.

celebrities, celebrity magazines and lets call them gossip magazines are some of the lowest forms of entertainment you can get. Fancy being enthralled by what some WAG does with her spare time,or a has been pop star is now up to. The people who publish this sort of shite need to be dragged outside and given a slap around the ear. The people they write about, well that’s all part of the great distraction. This is why the magazines are called Hello or OK, the sort of thing you say to someone who has been banged about the head and is acting dazed and confused. As for the gossip magazines, well go and take a read of some of them, just the front pages will do. This is the sort of crap aimed at mainly women with nothing better to do with their lives, the sort who go to the tanning salon and then the gambling shop and back again. Does that smack of unfair stereotyping? Its actually and unfortunately very accurate, I ought to know, it was my job once upon a time. You learn loads watching people in newsagents and supermarkets, you can learn even more from books. One thing is for sure, if you entertain yourself with brainless and utterly useless BS you will learn how quickly things like senility can creep up on you. Just imagine the whole time you are reading up on what Mrs. Beckham is wearing or doing, a whole host of opportunities are passing you by. Perhaps you enjoy reading brain dead rubbish designed to poison and destroy your own thinking, after all that’s what the government wants of you. The media is just another arm of that machine.

BTW All those magazine cuttings came from the front pages of the magazines I had to collect up and tear off as evidence of my work each week. I had better to do than read the contents.

The importance of questioning the historical record and not taking anything for granted

politics and religion, Uncategorized

Having been a little while since last anything was written, life has now freed me up to do something. there are no excuses and even the reasons are pretty flimsy, however I have been creative, productive and have re-acquainted myself with stinging nettles and getting my hands dirty. Being a gardener certainly has its advantages, I spend quite lot of time listening to the birds sing, get plenty of fresh air and being self employed am barely in a position to walk out of my job or indeed be sacked. If I do decide on taking this drastic action, I can reinstate myself after having a cup of tea, or switch my attention to other things that need doing around the home. Like making the kitchen look nice, painting the floor in same and various other little bits and bobs. I shall also knocking out a large amount of dead plaster, stripping off a quantity of horrid wall paper and removing some old tiling adhesive, all filthy tasks. I shall start by buying a couple of birthday cards for two elderly female relatives. one in her eighties, the other I think is ninety six. My mum says the other person is ninety four, either way it’s pretty impressive and a good age to be. Both birthday cards are unfortunately late, at least I remembered.

A Russian has said something unfashionable and more than likely 100% accurate, that Hitler was a Jew. Certainly a good number of his entourage could make that claim, or at least have that claimed for them. Does Hitler look Jewish to you? What fun, a member of the chosen race hating and murdering his own kind. Makes for a conspiracy doesn’t it? A Jewish conspiracy, one centred on self hatred and loathing of your fellows. I wonder if Hitler was a Jew, there is plenty of ‘evidence around to suggest something in that direction, here is just one example:

https://cdn.preterhuman.net/texts/conspiracy/David%20Icke%20-%20Was%20Hitler%20A%20Rothschild.pdf

Click on it and have a read, and then look for other material on the same or related topics. It is important to establish facts in history and not just take someone else’s word for it all. After all the word history is comprised of two other words His story and that is very important, we must not be afraid to explore and even perhaps debunk the narrative. If we are then hated for distilling the truth from the lie, then good. let us remember what Orwell wrote in 1984: ‘Who controls the past, controls the future: who controls the present, controls the past… The mutability of the past is the central tenet of Ingsoc. Past events, it is argued, have no objective existence, but survive only in written records and in human memories. The past is whatever the records and the memories agree upon. And since the Party is in full control of all records, and in equally full control of the minds of its members, it follows that the past is whatever the Party chooses to make it.

What if Hitler was a Jew and what if the Jews had a conspiracy all along to rule the world and a host of other things as well, like not allowing people to question the figures of those murdered in the holocaust. What if the figures are all wrong? After all they changed the number of those murdered at Auschwitz/Birkenau several times over the years and they are only human after all. Humans are very fallible creatures and their ego, especially the collective ego does not allow for any questioning of what can be termed sacred cows. The holocaust is just one of those bovine beasts, after all they have been raking it in ever since it happened and it shows no signs of slowing down just yet, new books are published on the subject almost every month, just go to your discount book store and look for yourself.

In other news I woke up with a sore throat this morning, so I have been taking it easy and having regular periods of rest, hopefully the hot Ginger and Orange concoction will see me right and chucked some Turmeric in for good measure.

https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/98241616

Trannies, fires and the decline of empire

politics and religion, Uncategorized

A few minutes taken away from the study of the decline of Empire and India in particular, provides relief for my eyes, a correction of posture and something to let all that learning sink in and ferment into something useful. Letting my hair down (literally) and contemplating my empty mug, do I need more tea? Not right now is the answer to that particular question. Instead I am to ponder how I misread an earlier slightly more important question and have thought how I could have wasted a lot more time on answering a question, that would have been wrong, irrelevant and off key as well. In other words a total and unmitigated fuck up, that I could well do without. Just like the beastly dream that I am am sure kept me awake half the night and probably did nothing of the sort and more like just the early hours of the morning instead. It involved, packing my bags moving out and going away, leaving someone else behind. It had to be done and as much as I contemplate my dreams, it has to be done. if you want your car to move you have to release the brakes, it is simple. One thing has already been sent on it’s way, the other slightly bigger thing is going to be retrieved boxed up if needs be and sent on its way to. I don’t actually give a flip for the past, I would rather focus on the present instead.

A hunchback of Notre Dame

Productivity increases, new opportunities emerge and I am less bothered by people wanting to speak or otherwise ‘chat’. The video chat thing is both a curse and a blessing, actually it is a burden, fuck the blessing. It prevents all or a lot of the above from happening and most annoyingly stops the listening to of music. This causes acute distress and upset ( I am joking here) It is worse than that, it is downright inconvenient. I do not really give two tits what is happening on the other side of The Atlantic, likewise I do not give two turds what is happening on the far fringes of Europe. I keep up to date on world events and do not believe half of it and only bought a newspaper last week cause I was bored waiting at the hospital to pick up some meds. The time I bought one before that was during the bog roll famine, I used it to wipe my arse and later on to make a fire in the garden. I like making fires, the bigger the better and the destructive the greater I love them. Actually this is not true, it upsets me greatly to see forests and woodland being torched, by idiots dropping cigarette butts. But it warms my soul to see French cathedrals going up in smoke and I laugh my cock off when same multi millionaires hand out fortunes to repair the wretched place. Just like some medieval indulgence to ensure remission from purgatory. A pity they cannot find the same sums to house the homeless and lift people out of poverty.

This person does not have a uterus

Hypocrisy is one of the by words of religion, strangely enough you find it a lot in the political realm as well. There is just more lying involved and less buggering of children, though perhaps they all bugger each other. none of them it appears know what a Uterus is or which members of the species have one. I will give you a clue here: if your name was previously Eric, Kevin, George or anything else from the big book of boys names then you will probably find you do not, or for that matter never will. Recently a Tory (conservative) MP came out as being a tranny, just after being arse raped as well. Poor chap it must have hurt like buggery, I hope his assailants used some lube on him first. Anyway enough of tories, burning churches and sore arseholes. I want a new mobile phone, having become convinced my current antique is no longer doing the job. Like the Tory tranny MP it is buggered but not literally. It has been abused and maltreated over the years and is now genuinely fucked. I shall take myself to the phone shop, explain my predicament in less vulgar language and obtain a new machine, possibly even a new service provider. I am done with Oh poo or whatever they are called, dislike the automated voice they use and all the crappy offers they want to shower me with. .

In the mean time I am going to have another brew and contemplate going for a little drive or other outward excursion.

Mi Skool Daze (A storrie)

Autobiographical

This was originally written in response to a female I met online around 2003 she seemed very nice and was quite friendly  and came from somewhere like Moldavia or at least had a passport for that country.  I think she was resident in Romania, fairly slim build with dark brown hair. She liked to call me ‘Sweet thing.’ Though I guess this was more a standard greeting for anyone who might have had some money to spare. This was at the same time as I was in a loveless and often abusive relationship and despite the shaky quality of the webcam and its connection was perhaps a catalyst for getting out of it. I wrote all of the following during a lunch break at a dodgy bakery where they smothered Chocolate cakes in gravy browning and charged an arm and a leg for the things.

Woman I will try to express my inner feelings and thankfulness.

When writing a book you ought to consider 3 things: the beginning,the middle and the end. What the rules are for writing a letter I do not know. Obviously I have written plenty of letters in the past, however none of them were about how I felt or indeed how I feel.  this one I hope and feel will be the first of many, only time will tell.

When I first started out on the rocky path called life, I knew something had to be done. That I wanted to do something, quite what I did not know. But there was certainly something, I freely admit I made mistakes well who doesn’t? Yeah I made a few.  Looking back upon these things with an unblinkered eye and no obstruction in my way. I realise that these things were not all caused by my own fault. Rather through the influence of others and the environment from which I came.  Rather than nurturing and developing what talent there may have been, it was repressed and crushed till it was nigh visible. The teacher shouted, the pupil shrank. You are nothing, boy was the usual phrase heard at the school I went to.  They controlled your head through the classroom, you are hear to listen, boy!  Shut up. When that did not work, the  treatment became harsher:  Isolation as if you were dirty or infected. Then if the first was not harsh enough, there was physical punishment, for what? Laughing out loud was one of them, I mean what is wrong with laughing.  Is it a crime to smile and be happy?  Yes of course I broke the rules, Smoking behind the hall, pissing around like children do  and  for that you could expect trouble. But laughing?  They may as well have stopped us from breathing. Turned us into animated dummies, or is that what the educational system is designed to do. Creativity in the class room,  copy this  and draw that. Don’t even think of using your mind. (that might have been dangerous.) Mr. Crowley had a strange way of encouraging creativity in the craft lessons, mind you  he was nuts and threw knives at people.  Smashing up your work if you breathed out of turn, unintentionally  he alternately frightened the shit out of us or made us behave even worse.   Unfortunately those were his milder rages, I think he was just a frustrated angry old man  who had a best friend in his pipe of tobacco and his crafty stuff.  It was quite bizarre at times,   he would gather us around and start speaking about someone’s pot they had just created and  spoke about the curve of it, the shadow it threw.  This alternately could be put to a basket someone may have just weaved.  You get the picture? All it would take was  for someone to do something out of turn, lets say scratch their nose or perhaps yawn, then he would go of on one. Seizing whatever was at hand and pummelling said creative effort into the table top and I mean he would flatten it.    At the same time he would rave and shout that his father had been eaten by ants in the jungle for this, that and the other and apparently it was all our fault. The other favourite was I cycle all the way from Farnham to teach you bloody lot. Big deal, it  was only three miles.  As for the first accusation, I would love to have seen how he came to his conclusions. It is beyond me how he ever worked this one out and it is all very fine blaming the Ants. Still they had done what they had done and like I said it was our fault.  However Henry Crowley as was his name just appeared to be  an angry man with a pipe.

So apart from a mad craft teacher who threw knives. Some of us had an alcoholic house master, who found it funny to act the fool and keep us children amused. He organised games of forfeits when there was fuck all else to do for an evenings entertainment.   I had to dress up backwards by that I mean putting all my clothes on back to front. I must have looked a right muppet. Unfortunately the headmaster saw me in this state, it was at evening prayers. He was not amused, trying to explain away my position only dug the hole deeper and resulted in a sound beating for my efforts. I was lucky, someone else got to eat soap, he was farting bubbles that reeked of Carbolic for  a week afterwards. 

Talking about beatings and especially canings it was traditional to expose the injured body part (Always the backside) to the rest of the dormitory, for common inspection. Billy always said: “This is mild compared to what you will get out in the big wide world lad”. He was right, I have had to pay a fortune for every beating since, the Domme down the road is very strict about that. Billy would then make  you shake his hand, like you had done him a good service or something.

DOMINA

It wasn’t all that bad and some of it was actually quite good fun. We got to fool around in the woods and play war or something,  whatever it is that children do. Sometimes we even got to go to ‘Birdworld’ Though we only ever saw the fishes there and never the birds. Unless you included the penguins, so for us first and second years it became fish world.  I suspect it was like this because Pecker had a bird complex,   more on that later.  My pissed house master swam in the nude, ate his ear wax and was ming. The school secretary  found him having a swim one early morning when she was walking up through the school after parking her car.  So that must have been nice for her, I still remember her name and  as far as I remember she was  the only member of the school staff who never seemed to drop anyone in the shit.  Even the domestic staff would have a go at that and more often than not  succeed. 

RUSSALINA

Apart from a bit of editing this is pretty much what was written, with a couple of pages left to work through. Unfortunately my handwriting is somewhat appalling and makes me cringe and squint when trying to decipher the squiggles.

I hope to write some more of this soon, though from a point it will have nothing to do with the original letter that incidentally was never posted.

RANDOM WONDERINGS

Uncategorized

So working at home has overtaken me and the upload device on the website has ground to a halt. I am unable to upload my painting of Betty Page with her breasts exposed, so I am drinking tea instead. Clicking on the reload button has of course taken things back to zero but I could do with a break from the art work thing. having thrashed out a ton of material yesterday, I think I am in need of a rest. That shall come later I have some more work to do first and training later. Then I shall sleep like a baby and for having done a good days work I shall sleep even more soundly. I do not know about other forms of employment and for that matter I do not really care, having decided long ago it is a pointless exercise wasting my time on other peoples shit, it never lasts for long and I only get depressed and somewhat suicidal. The very idea of slaving on the minimum for some other bastard fills me with a sense of horror, only exacerbated by the medication I am on which lists confusion,depression and aggression amongst the side effects . . Still I am glad to be near free of discomfort and this I imagine will only decrease as the dosage increases. Hopefully some day soon the doctors will be able to fix the thing completely. Only time will tell on that one.

BETTY PAGE

What else? Oh yes I went into town the other day, Saturday to be precise. It was as I thought it would be, a god damned awful experience, it started raining, parking was hideously expensive and is enough to deter me from going there again. looking at it, what is there I cannot get delivered to my door? In future I may just cycle in and get some exercise at the same time. I may just tolerate it that way and not want to top myself for living in such a shite city. Please do not come here, it is diabolically awful in any number of ways. The only saving grace is the nice buildings we have, not that you can really go into them. The custodians of the places are a bunch of fussy so and so’s, they do not like common riff raff entering their temples of learning. I cannot say blame them for being so. The buggers inside called students pay a fortune to learn shit in those places, they cannot have them being contaminated by the townies. The Dons would not like it very much either, the riff raff might drop cigarette butts on the ground and even belch or Dog forbid. Fart.

Sophia Loren in The Millionairess

This is of course all fantastical, all the above people fart, belch and the smokers amongst them drop ciggie butts on the floor they are human like the rest of us. Though saying that there is nothing wrong with having standards and good manners. Likewise there is nothing wrong with telling people you do not like to piss off , just do it as politely as possible. The weather has brightened up a little since I started writing so I am going to put some suitable clothes on and go plant the Foxgloves and those other things I have forgotten the name of. By the time that’s all done it will be time for lunch. The cats are currently fast asleep, kitchen noises will soon change that and it is predicted Ninja Cat will be down to investigate, scrounge and get in the way too. Otherwise life is pleasantly on the quiet side, I am able to get on with what I have to do, relax, if you can call it that, though this is the way I do relax. By doing things, being creative, productive and getting things out of the way that might otherwise bother my head unnecessarily.