THE OLD MAN AND THE SEMEN (with apologies to (Ernest Hemingway)

Autobiographical

We have many colourful and varied people in the wonderful place where I work, some of them if not all of them have I am sure a story or two to tell as to how they wound up in such a drab and uninspiring place. Some of the residents have beards, some do not. Amongst the bearded ones is an old man who has a collection of gentlemen’s interest magazines magazines strewn across his floor. He also has a wide selection of newspaper images which supplement his magazine collection, most of not all of these pictures are stained, the same system is employed in his toilet, again the images he employs have stains all over them. I like to think they are spilt tea, however any half baked fool can tell they are not. The scene is reminiscent of teenage boys bedroom, except these days, those images are more likely to be on a computer and not on the floor. It is my happy task to clean rooms like this and last week it was decided it was to cluttered and messy to move there and we had to speak to management regarding the situation at hand. The magazine owner was naturally upset to hear we wanted to tidy his room and much protest was made as to our throwing his stuff out which had ‘great sentimental value attached to it’ At times like this it is hard not to laugh, so I bit my lip a little instead. Hopefully his room will be more accessible next time but I am not placing any bets on that being the case.

I have not written for a while due to several things, the most recent of which has been a stinking cold, which is finally leaving me, the last traces of it are at least. I just have a troublesome nose to contend with instead. There have been other factors involved too, mostly lack of motivation or doing something else. It would be nice to write more, more often so don’t be surprised if this does not happen and likewise don’t be too surprised if it does. Like model making, school work, painting, reading, gardening and work itself I have to prioritise my work load and it does not follow in that order. Some times I am even compelled to turn my phone off so I do not have to answer it, some people I know can talk for bloody hours about rubbish and I find it boring. The same people also like to complain about things not going their way too. They ought to pee off and find a counsellor dealing in financial anxiety, again that person is not me. J of whom I have written plenty in the past is well and managing her stuff pretty well, she wants to move back to Ithaca NY in some ways I don’t blame her, her current abode sounds a bit tiresome and she yearns for a place she can call home.

What else? I am now the proud owner of a shop mannequin, I am not sure why I bought it but the idea seemed quite novel, it can be sold again quite easily ( I am sure) and plenty of fun can be had with it in the mean time. It would look quite menacing dressed in lingerie with a leather cap and a whip, right now it looks quite harmless in a polka dot blouse, a denim skirt and bobble hat the black tights ensure it does not cold and maintain its modesty. it has yet to be assigned a gender or indeed a name but I suspect something female, seeing it is configured that way with breasts, hips etc. It would be very odd to call it Harold or Arthur, though in this day and age…

I hope to publish something more in the next couple of days

A woman with long dark haired in black leather elbow length gloves and ditto fetish gear kneeling on a bed of straw. she has her hands on her hips in a suggestive and wilful pose
A woman with long dark haired in black leather elbow length gloves and ditto fetish gear kneeling on a bed of straw. she has her hands on her hips in a suggestive and wilful pose