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Wednesday, 22 April 2015

In which One does the garden…

Utter bliss of day off yesterday…

BF and One sat in the sweltering April sun with a cream cake and a Pinot (watered down) and had a lovely chat.

One has been invited to Alabama by Aged P’s best chum.  Obv One would like to attend but is absolutely skint as you know, Dear Reader,

I don’t think that when One says ‘I don’t have any money’ people realise that I actually mean…

I DONT HAVE ANY MONEY

Another communiqué from the Admiral of the Fleet showing off about where he is and how he and all the other retired policemen are having a lovely time floating about being handsome and drinking beer and probably frightening Croatian women minding their own bees-tiddly-wax doing their washing on the beach and stuff.

Short day today so shall be continuing to sort out the sorry mess that used to be One’s garden.

Must get it done as One has to sell the Underground Lair in order to pay off One’s debts various and have enough money to live until One becomes an elderly burden on the state.

Current plan is to purchase van and live in the style of the Old Woman on Alan Bennett's driveway.  Probably on BF’s gravelled area outside her bung.

Before that though, One intends to biff off to the Amalfi Coast and swim across to Capri singing Gracie Fields songs and loll about in the manner of Noel Coward smoking fags and being rude about everyone.

 

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