Greetings my friends from a level of Bedford. I am not sure how level it is, or indeed how high or low it reaches as it achieves its level, but level it surely is. Cartographers attest to its flatness, and have done so for some centuries.
Happily, its stable height make it less interesting than one might expect of a funfair, although I have yet to meet anyone who considers Bedford fun, or even fair.
My travels have plumbed new levels - guess which? - as I try to sort my life. It would be wrong to say it is finished, but it would be correct to say I tried to get it finished. And immediately reconsidered, given that I'm not sure if Purgatory is where I want to be until the Apocalypse.
Where I went wrong, I know: where I went right, I believe I then took a left. Ho hum.
I am now trying to win the lottery, or find an aged spinster from the Belle Epoque. It would be useful to be able to support two former wives and three very current children. If I do not come first, please send the usual donations via Private Eye to my prison bank account.
I am also intending to travel again. I hope to be enjoying the shores of Turkey, Venezuela and Malaysia over the next year. On the other hand, I could be enjoying the bores of Tesco, Sainsbury or the Co-Op wearing a fetching emblazoned polo shirt. It is said that travel broadens the mind but I can assure you that unemployment exacerbates the bind. Sorry, not really Keats, is it? Anyway, Blake says that without contraries is no progression, and I am sure that I have been contrary enough over the last five decades.
Literary lessons over, but...I noticed last year that Clarkson had copied or extemporised on a couple of my published phrases. If I am wrong, I apologise, but he won't know anyway as he hasn't read this; if I am right, I am delighted that someone is almost as funny as me!
Love to you all, and keep tuned. I'm back, I'm bad, and I'm bristling with bile. Alliterate twat!!
1 comment:
Clarkson? The old holiday company?
Blimey.
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