Thursday 10:00 p.m.
Two and a half hours of verbals in Bellshill today. The big sister was there, so there was no blissing out at the foot of the auld maw's bed. Two and a half hours of diseases, and calamities befalling people ... the awfulness that can occur in the ... grief, sorrow, lamentations ... suffering in this life! Dearie, dearie me. Phenomena are empty of existing in the manner of their appearance except in Bellshill. I can't say: I don't believe in anything! I don't believe in anything at all! Well, I can, and I do, but it just makes me seem a bit strange.
Tomorrow I'll have to take to the hut. I have won the day.
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7 comments:
Synchronistically, I called the old dear the same day, and was treated to a detailed account of the last few weeks' bowel movements. I still think I got the better deal.
Onan? Same thing: flatheids getting old! You'll be the same! Hotboy
It'll be the first time I've ever been the same as everyone else.
Albert? Why would you want to be? Hotboy
I say Onan,
Can we get more details of the bowel movements?
MM III
I say!
Not long to go now - until Sri Lanka v England.
MM III
Mingin'! After Scotland getting beaten by Italy at the footie, I can see the advantages of supporting the creekit! You get to drink over a far longer period of time for one thing. Three days, isn't it? Wouldn't help really. Hotboy
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