Good morning from Shrawley (the kingdom of) and thank you to the ever hard working Rochelle for keeping us mental doodlers in some sort of check. For me, this and a couple of other blogs which prompt me are the only things that keep my life in some sort of order. So thanks, you may, or may not know who you are.
Thanks also to Linda Kregar for providing us with this photo, intriguing to say the least. So without further ado, I shall don my hi-viz jacket, my hard hat, go out to work and think about this story whilst operating heavy machinery.
On My Marks…
This is a poor sequel to Injured Duke writer about a year ago.
The Grand Old Duke of York’s Nerve damage and the subsequent collapse of his associated community, had compelled him to seek advice from the deluded efficacious Pusher; the Pied Piper.
The climate in Flamborough had been turned on its head since the razing of the Amazon and the languorous, Machiavellian, Hypochondriac Pangendered Duke had exploited this with aplomb; creating a cult, specifically for Back loving Paraphiliacs.
The subscriptions kept rolling in and the Duke could still buy the pharmaceuticals from the Piper, it wasn’t unusual to see the blissful disciples pushing the Duke intoxicated on super-strength anxiolytic Miltown Happy Pills.
There we are, 100 words on the nose, not sure what I think about this one, so I won’t think about it and just press publish, its often the best way!