Jesus I forgive you....I don't suppose you've seen my keys?

Am back safe. The reformed cat lady (Lent only, not including birthdays) and the good-natured bag gypsy are safely ensconced, no doubt playing with kittens or gerbils by now or whatever it is they do after dark once the neighbours have dropped their guard. I think they call it cat flapping. Not sure. So anyway we spent the evening playing Kan-U-Go. Rules? Decided to enter the Kan-U-Go Pyramid competition with a chance to win one hundred pounds, after coming up with a prizewinning wordfeast that Pythagoras would have been proud of, only to realise that the deadline for entries was 1938. Balls. That's the last time I play pre-world war word games with a collector of antiquities and trinkets and a sober judge. 'X-Ray Spam', 300 points incidentally. That reminds me, I must dig out my lucky Saint Harry, isn't he the patron saint of lost keys?

The Scottish Widows

Am stood, looking out at the wasteland, from my commanding position in the south tower of fortress galleria, what drove me here? to this madness, why? how? I'm not certain, but I do know I need an exit strategy and I must finish my treatise on chemical imbalance. I have spent the last week researching certain areas of interest. First stop was the bank, and after getting embroiled in a debate over the credit crunch with a clerk, and whether it's better with hot or cold milk, finally I was sent on my way with a charming free gift. My new plastic biro is a first-rater, but is not the reason I went to the bank. Can't seem to remember why I went now, the pen has some kind of inner force. I must investigate it further. It has the words 'Scottish Widows' etched into the surface. I'm going to find out what I can about these widows. There must be more to it. The easy way it was slid across to me by the clerk seems, well, just too easy. Perhaps this is a dark omen or possibly a talisman. It might even contain hidden code. As yet, I don't know. I don't make the rules.

A treatise on chemical imbalance, how it manifests itself in women, it's root causes and suggested therapies. Prof. C. van Zadellhoff

Research in.

Conclusion:

Chemical imbalance is not and will probably never be curable, but some Bochox seems to iron out the wrinkles and mood swings.

How to use: Apply liberally to the face till it's all gone, focussing on the big noisy area above the chin. Repeat treatment daily.

Escorts are not all they're cracked up to be

Last week I had my car stolen, much to my disappointment.
It was a navy blue Ford Escort. In car years it was about 75. Old and majestic.

I must say I miss the freedom it gave me now, and the wonderful memories. For sentimental reasons mostly, I would dearly love to have it back.

Not many people care that I was conceived and later on, during the return leg of what turned out to be a very eventful day trip to Calais, I was born on the back seat. Whilst parked on deck 2 row 5. Surrounded by cheap tobacco, wine and brie. Of course this led to a rather sticky predicament. Being the law abiding citizens that they are my parents declared me on arrival in Dover, and not wanting to pay import duty and due to my own fault of not being in possession of a current passport, I, and the car were impounded until the relevant paperwork and monies could be procured. I spent six months eking out an existence, by living on brie and wine. And returning to the glove box for safety at night. This was also around the time that I started smoking and that my love of all things nautical was instilled to my very core.

It is for these reasons and many others, that the safe return and valeting of my birthplace would be much appreciated.