3 prompts today, Word of the Day Challenge (not sure if i’ve done this before,) Fandango’s One Word Challenge (tick) and Ragtag’s Daily Prompt (tick, but not for as long as Fandango) 3 likely bedfellows, let’s see what rubbish I can muster.

Regular readers of which there are surprisingly few, given the drivel I spout day after day, will know that year Zero was born when the pubs shut down. In the intervening months (that sounds mad doesn’t it?) I have pined for the pubs, lusted after sitting in a beer garden following a walk, and discovered that my local is run by a racist and thus precludes me from visiting, this means I will;l have to walk further, maybe a mile or so for a pint. this is no real hardship to be fair and it’ll keep the weight down. I remember when I lived in Salford and took up running with my housemate, only periodically you understand, we’ed run to the “Inn of Good Hope” or the “Bin of Bad Soap” with enough money for a couple of pints and pack of 10 between us, the vista of a immaculately kept crown green bowling pitch stretching out within a neatly painted white picket fence; standard.We’d always walk back until the last corner and then run into the house, our lack of fitness enough to blag that we’ed run miles, or not. Lets just say the other 2 house mates didn’t come down with the last shower.

So 103 days since the pubs shut, which is nearly 15 weeks and will be over 15 weeks when the government tells us to get drunk and literally prop up the flagging economy like a drunk at the bar. Our economy will be based on DIY, Booze and Haircuts; Made in, (by enthusiasts) Great Looking Very Drunk Britain. Fuck the kids, they can teach themselves.

Anyway I’m drifting off track, I wanted to tell you a little tale concerning the Mysterious and arcane M, one of the walkers on which this blog was originally based on, he’s a real person, just read everything on this blog and you’ll get to know him, unfortunately there is no index that i can find anyway. So he’s got 2 houses; one he lives in and another he built, in his garden and rents out. Unfortunately he’s had some bad tenants and some bad debts left by said tenants. The place has been empty for a year or so and is potentially in the market to be used as a location to film adverts or to take photos, it’s a nice place, opposite my local pub and as such would suit an alcoholic or racist or both or indeed and hopefully neither. So just dropping this into the conversation on the walk today M revealed that he had been asked if he would consider leasing the 4 double bedroom property out on a short term weekly basis, for £1000 per week to some prostitutes or at least to someone who looks after prostitutes. M would in essence become their pastoral pimp, or friend of said pimp and possibly receive mates rates or even more or less, Rural prostitutes, milk maids, etc a speciality. The thought of people coming and going on an almost hourly basis was too much to comprehend and definitely too much to keep under wraps for more than the first couple of days I would have thought. The salty conversations and goings on in the pub and across the road in M’s beautiful designer house would be too much to bear, but for £1000 a week? Well theres the game of scruples for you, on many levels I’m sure.Turns out he didn’t accept the offer and M the Moll Man wasn’t to be. Unfortunately apparently for M as the news from New inn lane, this weekend was that a prostitute has visited a house up there on Saturday night at about 3am. The person is renting, I’ve no idea who the person is, but you can be pretty sure that the gossip will be spreading like a bush fire to whoever gives it oxygen. Plus on Saturday night 4 squad cars were called to a house up the same road, because of a blazing row which happened and could be heard from a long way off apparently. You turn your back for a weekend, not walk the dog and craziness has taken hold

Anyway, 4 more sleeps and then we can all get drunk and go naked and lie in a great big pile, but I don’t think I will, I’ve an idea.