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Friday, 1 July 2016

In which the world has gone quite mad...

Woken up a bit...
Oh feckin' 'ell. What's the point?
At least me 'hokey kokey' Rota is over for the month. You know, Dear Reader, in/out, in/out, and I've got four days off in a row, but frankly, when I've cleaned the flat and done the washing and ironing, swept up the fag ends that little shite upstairs keeps chucking in the garden and harvested a week's growth of super-floo-us, there's just enough time for a kip and then I'm off again.

'Did you do some baking?' enquired a corpulent paper shuffler, as One emerged virtually unscathed from an afternoon's herding jellyfish.

Did I do some fecking baking? Might as well just tip 200g of flour over me head, smear a handful of disgusting 'can't believe it's not butter' (I fecking can) slime all over me frock and it would have the same outcome.

Still, finished reasonably early that day, so nipped next door to see if next door's cat wanted to bake a tray of cupcakes after it had finished watching Panorama.

I ask you, Dear Reader, has the world gone quite mad?

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