Long time gone, long time, longtime gone; gone, gone, gone: Gong. “Put yer ‘ands up, I’ve gorra gone.” Oh dear, deary, deary, deary me. Well, old chap. Sat – 1st May. Riley’s birthday. Woke up feeling like shit. Got pissed and stoned with R. Took him to pub. Got an E put in me gob.. Bought gram rock of coke. Botheration, pish, fish, fish ‘n shit, halibut,t,t,t,t. Lightly killed frog. Bristlin’. Daylight glistening. Nostril twitch ‘n sniff. Aaahhh! In pub merrily. Verily the Endeavour. Beautiful young woman walks in. At bar looks round and smiles at me. I smile magical smile back. Before I could go and say hello she came up and introduced herself. We had a great night (and as she was leaving on monday morning) I asked her out. We had a fantastic ‘date’ on Sunday. She loved the Black Horse. Caroline, 24 from Sweden. Beautiful with golden hair. And I will never see her again.
Okey Dokey. Then a trip to York with The Geezer in a totally different but equally magical way. I wanted to catch up a bit with recent music and knew there was new Beta Band stuff. Fucking hell mate! (I hope so ‘cos I can’t play the fuckin’ harp!) There was a new Beta Band single and album. They are both most amazing beyond wordees. The fkn cherry on the fkn top of the fkn Xmarse fkn cake was the new Orb C.D. Bicycles and Tricycles. I’ve got it on now. And am worshipping the Beta Band fervently. Got 3 Crystal Method C.D. Singles and few bits yah. Jah. Rastafari.
Then the next thing we know is weed! So have smoked like a combined donkey / dolphin para – fin engine with or without the saddle at any given moment in time. Far from being pin – pointed, keeps changing. Going Thru Changes. And smoked. Then smoked some more. Two diff types…. No.1 and No. 2. And the Galaxy plopped. Lots of Orb and Beta Band. But been fkn struggling for me sanity. Crawlin’ thru the loneliness, thru the gray slug – tunnels and down the funnels. Without a flannel. Not funny. Money.
Quirpy – Bob is Sean’s new name. He’s been X-end by water and by fire. He has no wife. His son’s called Winkle Broth. His daughter’s name is Beak Linguiné. Such horrible looking fkn monsters the pair of ’em defy description and they keep doing unspeakably perverted sexual acts with each other, perpetrated upon the fkn premises! No-one. Is it sufi? You what, you fkn scruffy cunt? Perv, bantu and erse. Thanks Sam. Dah. Dah. Dah. Doo. Doo. Doo. Blue cut. Flying ones. Arc. Blythe.
I’m run-down, been ill with flu and all sorts of shite. Styes in eyes. weeping. Then back again just now. Left one weeping pus. Shit – or – ish all sorts. And all alone still, alone and lonely still without special female company. Can’t. Wont’t. Don’t. Should. Would. Could. Fkn double bollocks. Will! Looking for The Land Of Green Ginger. I know it’s there.
Och Eye – Kilted Bop. (Quilted Bob).
P.S. The Roof! The Roof! The Roof is on Fire!