fake news fake news fake news

26 Nov

Help help I’m being repressed…

It was like that scene on the poster for the filim The Graduate, except we were both in our 40s and I was in job activation. I told the woman at the unemployed center, I felt active enough. The joke in those days was that if ye wan’t to go sick from work, ye had better be fit. Hehe but it was not funny, those six month contracts get really silly after awhile. especially If she is more concerned about the kids then your drinking habbits

She was showing a bit of leg as I went to clean the toilet, which is the last place ye clean before ye leave, actually I should have been more worried about the one armed man. They only sent me instead of one of the 18yr old girls as a warning to him, his place was spotless, he was supposed to sweep his stairwell steps once a month, or was it even three months, that is the usual and there is always some nosey neighbour more than willing to take the whole stairwell. I’mean it is not stassi east germany or anything, why could I not just stay at home and mind me own business. Ye I can see being fat fourty and finished, or divorced sloppy and drunk as me single drinking buddy put it then. So what was I to do, go home and look out the window and listen for the news.

What news. Read all about it read all about it. The middleage gay bar owner only hires middleage local wiman , the clients in the day are over middleage, the street corner looks like it is from the middle ages. The park on the west square has a buildings museum and they have moved the old jazz bar there. Welle the old indian guy would turn in his grave. Better not name names here.

His mum in her old age went to live with the catholic nums and he came out as gay. I’m sure his shrink in the loonny bin had a story to tell the wife that evening, Never met his lover, din’t want to, some auld felle like hiself except a local, no doubt. Is this what it has come to. The sex life of the rich an famous and every politician in between and the economy up shyte street and the world at war. And I’ve got nothing better to do than put off washing my cloths until tomorrow and tormorrow and tomorrow

So that is it, made the grade, got 93% state pension and a good place to live, well apart from the short cut to the local shops is a mudslide this time of year. Me kids are doing okey. My son is broken hearted because visiting student has gone back to her hometown. Me daughter is shacking-up with some spanish felle, can’t trust those foreigners , I know I’m one. Even though my mother was not a tailor in a house in New Orlean

Now I remember waking-up today, I was being harrassed by a drunk in a pup but it was outside the local shop at the mudslide. That and I’d left the TV on all night and the half bottle of vodka nearly empty. Carnac or Karnack on the Luessianna/Texas border, Rossy O Donald,  her chatroom name. She/He was from 1959 or was that some other one. That is shocking, if I’d spent that long chatting face to face, ye’d think I’d remember more.

Cypress trees in the swamp and cajin people , nah yeah,  Navajo code talkers, that was it, that was the subject on the news. Some indians visited the president of america. that was breaking news because he used the word pocahaunts us. I don’t know , maybe he was in NYC at the Macys parade. I’ve never been to Newyork, I’ve no intention of going to Newyork but in me dreams I think I could find me way around anyway.

notice the comment on the artiste Taxi Driver is off topic



norms tub as mexico quakes

20 Sep

the plumbers said they’d be around tomorrow and apply epoxy resin which smells like shyte


15 Sep


Holmstrup 0830 15th Sept 2017

After the eclipse

22 Aug

woke in bed earphones on listening to some old liam chomsky tape, about how trump bombed syria and afghanistan something about the mother of all bombs and gas attack. well maybe that was last year. Then cloths in hand I headed for the bathroom, bumbed me elbow on the neighbours shower cabin wall, took out the rubbish , skact blocked, sprayed perfume behind my hallway door, went to the kitchen, looked like something one should leave in the toilet.

So far so good.

Jumped out of bed convinced last nights typing had made sense. We were watching a filim about 1973 chile made in 2004. apparently it got rave reviews at the time. Half the world away irak was invaded and afghanistan still in flames and arab spring only a twincle on some maurutanian guano coast. Wall street crashed and they are still scratching their heads.

1973 i left home, me dad said ye may as well , nothing here for ye son. I’ve always been hard headed. So I joined the brits, RAF not rød armi fraction, ended up in denmark via london and west germany, with a side step to aussie in the 80s. By the time youcoslavia fell and the hutzi and tutzi finished off the congo wars. The chain had fallen off of my bicycle and with two kids in tow I’d began to count meself lucky I’d out lived jesus

By the time I’d out lived mohamad I was on an early state pension, only 93% mind you so don’t get jelous. We will all be in the same boat when we see old age. Or rather if. Trump is imploding. Rudderless ship of state lost its’ manifest designation. China is rising and those russians, those russians and those damm indians.

In brazilian amzon rainforest an area the size of denmark is slated for bio fuel, while on the mediterainian coast they are fighting off chicargo stock exchange food prices. The poles are melting, the himalain highlands are washing bangladeshi on the road to mandalay. Meanwhile here on sunday it seems like another nice day


knew it by heart then

21 Jul

it was the crewlest thing, wrote 19 pages, and i reply with quotes. i must have been heartlest.

kind of gray november day washes away ….

latice bench contain no gypsy or lady irish author


i was such a bolic….  don’t know…  faded ‘photo dwell tween sheeen rialway trax


it was the most grotesque


heart forgive me


Not the One – Al Stewart |Lyrics|

no flute playing onboad pls

18 Jul

he’d sailed her single handed across the atlantic. But that danish summer , jutlands east coast out of Hou, ye can see Tunø By. with navigation light hoisted. ( a fate acomplished by the simple expediency of five drunken musicians hauling the capt up the flagpole ) The flute player jixed the ship. Storm set in and they circled the island. Finally first landing. When the red ferryboatman shook capts hand and thanked the light he’d followed.

Being sunday, no shops in sight, a kindly island farmer proffered supplies free.


note to self:  to be continued

what was it I was going to say

16 Jul

The other day, me daughter Anne was talking about the atmosphere around the old goods railways station. But I din’t realize she meant the people her generation. Her first after school job at 14yrs was serving beer in the bowling hall. I did pick her up afterwards, the first few nights. But I suppose I was a bad dad as was mine before me.

I was going on and on about a one eyed neighbours ex husbond, whom I’m sure she did’nt even know the exsistence of. He’d gotten cheap cheap apartment there because he worked for the then state railway. Everybody worked for what is now called ‘the public sector’ then. Think if ye hung around long enough, they’d give ye a uniform to wear.

We’d queue-up every week in order to get cash unenployment insurance. The desk pope and shop steward wore both suspenders and belt and always had a crate of beer behind there. Four greenlands would arrive by taxi an curse the fish seller before hanging on the inside metal rails, laughing at the rules and us all pretending we wanted to work.

I could fill a book with over heard conversation there. The employment office itself was futher up the tracks in the light industry warehouse quarter. I could fill another book with the shinanigans there too. But the point I wanted to make was, Well I suppose, it just goes to show, ye can never see the world through other generations eyes