Sunday 3rd March 2019
Samoan: Aso Sa 3 Mati 2019
I removed my cumbersome, almost obrumpent, stomach-ladened frail body out of the £300 second-hand, ci. 1968 rickety, rusty recliner. With foolish thoughts of the whereabouts of my missing pre-owned £2 wristwatch that I’d misplaced.
The ailments seemed in a good mood for me. I got the Health Checks done.
The Sys had shot up again.
I was well pleased with how it came out, but for some reason, it started off the old brain-storming with its wandering, variable, totally unrelated meanderings. They did not make any sense to me, so no point in revealing their crassness and illogicality. Oh, all right then! The things I remember going through the mangle in my brain were; The massive reduction in the size of the police service, and immigration. Pavement cyclists, the decrease in the size of products on sale, aliens, (Are there any, will they visit). The imminent return of the EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles) in the flat, the end of the world, terrorism, will the EU collapse, why are politicians liars and dishonest cheats (although I already know this, it is because we let them get away with it), and how can anyone not like Marmite?
I made a start on updating yesterday’s diary. Which was a mammoth session with all the pictures I’d taken in town to go on it. I think it was about 06:00hrs by the time I got it all done and posted off.
I made a mug of tea, and began this post going.
Got as far as here, and made a pot of Sharwood’s Sweet & Sour Noodle for breakfast.
Went on TFZer Facebooking. Then tried to concentrate on catching up with the blog template headers.
The rain was falling.
Back to computing.
Sister Jane rang. She was preparing her dinner and the line connection was very poor. Shame really, cause I’m not sure what it was that she was telling me off about. Hehehe! Bless her.
Back to the computing of the graphic headers. Got the Health Checks done.
Stewed steak in gravy and roast potatoes, with the juice being soaked up with some hot part-baked baguettes from the oven. A worthy 9/10 flavour rating.
The weariness and fatigue overcame me then. I put on the TV, but all I could do was sit with the mind chafing-away at me with defeatism, self-doubts, self-recriminations, pathetic self-pity, guilt-ridden, rueful, self-doubt, timidity and uncertainty.
I have no idea what was on the goggle-box, the mind ruled my concentration and tortured me, until I eventually fell asleep very early, even for me.
Hey-ho!
TTFN.
I believe the various goings on in your flat leave little doubt about whether or not aliens, ghosts, goblins, pixies, fairies, spirits, angels, demons and other paranormal phenomena that traipse along through multiple dimensions, and fall into your flat through the tear in the fabric of the space/time continuum, and continually torment you until they can find their way out, exist. Whoa! I think that long, run-on sentence is possessed. Your legs and knees are like shape shifters in the Iceland Sagas, or perhaps 3D, semi-monochrome kaleidoscopes changing round in super slow-mo. Sweet & Sour noodles for breakfast sounds scrumptious, and that dinner looks simply divine.
I reckon your long, run-in sentence was possessed. But brilliantly so! Hehehe!
Great description of the pin movements and changes, Sir! I like it.
Thanks.