Well, I could n'er stand losing the busking war, so went out this morning, to play on the pitch. One of the first historians, Herodotus, said he'd rather suffer his share of evils than be ever fearing what may happen. So, I did what I must. I forgot my plectrum this morning, so have to use “God’s plectrum” (fingers) which meant the music was very quiet and not having played in so long meant my fingers were sore. Stealth run (an hour) and made enough for bread and beer, no baccy. I've only the blood and the body to transubstantiate myself with. With the change I can afford a cheap set of two squid strings from the charity shop and a plectrum. That's me. I even went to CAB to ask for food from the Church this morning, things have become that bad. Tomorrow I must play on my own, again, then Sunday is the gig with No electrickery. Monday: Toaster and Cyborg are getting together. Should be good. Might be alright.
In the meantime, I must stop smoking, though I've no choice. Maybe I'll hit the street again, maybe not.Max.
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