Me and My Ego

Autobiographical

I recently removed myself, albeit temporarily from the Facebook place. This move may become permanent, it has been a matter long on my mind and something has at last been done. I think it may become permanent, and am surprised at myself, for having taken so long to get this far. Social media is and can be a toxic place, it is an experiment in human behaviour and without doubt a place where governments snoop, sniff and check every word of what you read, write or say. The same can be said for that Alexa machine, that plays music and tells you the weather. It was fun for a while, then I threw it in the recycle bin. One less thing to dust or pay for you know. I have a 200w sound system instead and where my current music collection is slightly limited I compensate for that by having a internet connection and some decent digital speakers too. J is probably not very happy I am away from FB, though to be honest that is her business. I am pretty sure she will read this, good I like getting visitors, views, clicks, hits or whatever else they are called. They make my ego bigger than it is already is compel me to find a new and bigger home to house it in and ultimately move away from this dunghill known as Oxford and the muck heap called Blackbird Leys. Somewhere in the countryside, a nice cosy new home with a log fire and nice big garden.

Other news now, I am researching yew trees and archery and that kind of thing, personal interest you understand, I may/ will write about the subject sometime soon. School work is moving along nicely, having just got my last assignment has been dispatched. Erika the mannequin has had a change of clothes, though she really needs a whole new wardrobe as her current collection is a little large for her. Ultimately she needs measuring up to get a proper idea of her needs, then a charity store raid can take place. In the meantime I will be throwing out yet more stuff I have no need for, the local charity store is most willing to take it off my hands and for that I am most grateful. Other J has been off the radar recently, I like the peace and quiet of late and see no good reason to alter it too much.

Oh fuck, I have to go to the Job Centre palace later and make my reasons for being out of work. Well these are numerous, and words like peanuts and monkey’s come to mind when contemplating my answers. I figured a while ago and after 81 -/+ employers, the universe wants me doing other things than working to make some other bastard wealthy. Happily the weather looks quite nice and I may well cycle in and get some fresh air, avoiding the hassle of driving and doing a dodgy park near my former workplace. I really cannot be arsed dealing with those people or running into them for any length of time, like what happened last week. I am simply afraid of telling them what I think, which never really does much good. It is easier to miss out on conversations with some people, plus I do not like them it is as simple as that.

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