I awoke in soft morning hush, then birdsong's chorus on ice on my way to Church. Larry called me after holy communion, transubstantiation. I let him hear a little John Bunyon's He Who Would Valiant Be. I shouldn't have even had my cell switched on during the service, I'd contemplated turning it off. Anyhow, Larry called (you know the guy who had an affair with the lady I was courting at the time) and as per usual he was skint. I did some work with him, felling a silver birch tree in between two tree houses. I learned a great deal actually.
Anyway, we had a couple of beers and watched a flick I had brought round (The Campaign, Will Ferrell) then Mike the artist called. We hung out, spoke about Chairlady Won and the rice niggers, Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, my superiors. "Oh great Leader" as I like to call her, at work. I think I address her as "Our Glorious Leader" usually. I am unsure if she gets my sense of humour, and not either Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee speak so much as a word of English other than "Harrow" and "Goodbye". Anyhow, the day wore on.
After spinning out, going to see the archaeology guy, who could be better. He's like Acid-Head Anthony the abstract artist or Sad Sack from the raggy dolls. I hope he'll be okay. He's on a low ebb, as ever. Right, I should drink this coffee and straighten up. Do some studying. TMA02 A340. valet.
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