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Thursday, 9 February 2017

In which its a long walk to peace of mind...

Right! Pull yourself together and get on with it!

Stop dithering about like a demented dollop, count your blessings and PAINT!

Where has that irrepressible, forward looking, optimistic old trollop disappeared to?

If only the sun would come out.  Everything looks better when bathed in a warm haze, doesn't it, Dear Reader?

Vacuum the Underground Lair, do the washing, be thankful that you have a crumbly old Admiral in your life AND FOR GOODNESS SAKE - CHEER UP.

Wax yer face, pull on yer eighteen hour corsellete, put on your support hosiery on, paint on an Avon smile and LIVE!



Sauntering up the town yesterday, I happened upon Lovely Gordon peering out through the undergrowth by his front door, coughing like a dedicated 40 Woodbine a day, devotee.

'I went looking for you at the shop the other night,' says he 'and they said they'd never heard of you.  You shouldn't be working in there,' he went on.

'I'm not,' says I.

And indeed, I'm not, but how did they forget me already? I know that I was to the retail trade as useful as a sock full of wet sand, but come on, the customers liked me.

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