Tuesday 11:00 a.m.
There are no photies in this post because I cannot get the photies out of the camera somehow anymore. Even wee machines don't like me!!!
Anyway, Brian Wilson - the half chewed pig's face hanging out of the hip pocket of his once snowy cream linen jacket, the fags sticking out of every facial orifice, the bottles of vino collapso clinking in the carrier bag - has threatened to come visiting this afternoon. I'll try to get him to watch this wonderful video about Tibetan yogis that the Spango Yogini sent me the url for, but I suspect he's borrowed some pornographic DVDs from the old, toothless one. Dearie me! Into the gross!
I'm a sitting target here, so I am, Jack! You're have to tell folk you've gone on holiday, Hotboy, or been sent to jail or something. Oh well! I'll sit in the lobby once again and await my fate!!
2 comments:
Apart from the pig face, is there any difference between Brian and your good self?
Albert? There no difference between me and the pig face either, if that helps! Hotboy
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