Saturday, 20 September 2014

I spent five months in bed, staring at a shadow in the different coloured bed-sheets hanging over the windows, the shadow made an image, and it looked like a body, with a kind of hat and a round belly, a 'pregnant Egyptian woman'...

It meant I had to get out, lots of trouble ahead...

The Armenian idea developed when I saw, a guy in a long black moustache, sitting with a girl. Grandad?


I couldn't get the chihuahua outside to pee, the other dog was too interested. So, it's Ramadan, it began for me, at five in the morning, Mon 1 August...

Friday, 13 March 2009

Monday, January 30, 2006
He Is In Hospital

forgot to run with the baby in my arms to see someone in the room upstairs, i ran too quickly, after the room of rails of new clothes where we spent a time, picking an orange and green baby grower made of wool in the darkness, spent time holding him in my arms, choosing a brightly coloured jumper, checked with the image of a smiling sun...In the next scene I ran up the stairs forgetting the newborn baby had followed me, saw his face as he fell, as i turned and i ran back down quickly see-ing him lie on the floor, and picked him up and held...and woke up...
My left arm had been aching for two days, kept holding it up in the air as was certain I was going to have a heartattack...In fact woke him up, as my heart turned for a second and told him I was gonna call an ambulance, kept phone by my bed just in case...it still ached on Sunday, I thought 'please I'm too young to die'...

Kept it off by relaxing in pub with a hamlet cigar, (because I did not inhale it, just held it in my mouth, tastes great havent smoked a cigar for years) and drank mulled wine, even though the 'mulled wine canister' wasn't working until I hit the button, and said 'STOP' (cause it was a red light)...woke up Sunday arm was fine...Finally saw the news Sunday night...

Thursday, 12 March 2009

Old Pictures




Wednesday, 5 November 2008

Did You Beat Up My Dad?

Sunday, October 30, 2005
Did You Beat Up My Dad?

My Dad has some crazy scar in the middle of his monobrow like some kinda Charlie Manson X, like some stuff I read in the bible about men with scarred foreheads, but I forget what that's about; righteousness, I presume.

He also has a deep wired weird purple and red and blue scar on his waist. It looks like a homemade tattoo. Yes, I've been teasing him.

He got them, apparently, from running after some Bush. Ah, no, sorry running through bushes after that crazy cigarette eating dog Alfie.

Now I have decided to give up smoking, tomorrow; gum, because dog saliva is certainly no kind of elixir. Something new every day.

Goodnight.