It’s been a tough few weeks with no sign of getting any easier, it seems that’s not what happens when “Old” becomes a actual rather than a pithy joke on a birthday card, Ha ha ha! Thanks Rochelle for keeping this going, it’s helping me and is making me write the most morose speculative posts, and for that I’m sorry. Sorry you have to read them, not sorry I wrote them. Thanks to Jenifer Pendegast for the photo, it’s a good snap, one I will fully make use of. So in the words of , well, me, for the last 4 years nearly
On My Marks…
The only decision she’s had to make in the last 40 years, is which fucking hat to wear to Ascot.
I don’t know if thats Wonderful or positively Awful.
That is the entry point for negotiations.
There’s a whole life racing forward, but the life drifting backward is so much more entertaining to look at;
“Remember Port Grimaud?”
“Maybe we could just wait until next week…”
“He’s much better today, but I don’t think he’s eating enough”
So we took an A3 pad, and thrashed out the positioning of various racial groups.
“Too many Asians”
This is where I am now…
There we are, the conundrum of drawing Venn diagrams and various aids to decision making in the world I suddenly find myself in. 100 words on Hi My name is *** and My Mum is a racist…