So, goddamn it, I have had to move out of the beachside residence. Summer is coming which means the Emmetts are coming down to Kernow to populate our beaches and foul our waters with their putrid urban body-slime. They bring their swollen red bellies and obscure Northern accents and a dress sense that makes even me vomit and let’s face it, I don’t have a dress sense at all, and they rent our old bungalow for exorbitant sums and enjoy that loveliest of locations whilst the sun is beaming and the house is warm and not frigidly cold and I’ve moved into a flat in Plymouth which is alright and it’s free but I’m going to miss evening games of golf at Ivyleaf when the sun is drooping behind the Atlantic and we drink beer and smoke spliff and smack fuck out of our golf balls and enjoy the time. Goddamn it. I sneer in the general direction of all this that displeases me so this thundery afternoon. Look at me sneer. Is that not a sneer to be proud of? Eh?
It’s been an age since I’ve left any detritus on these pages. In the face of mySpace, then Facebook and now Twitter with a background of belated maturity, engagement, house purchase, proper job, this tired old blog has been left to fester. I do miss it though. Perhaps I can provide additions every now and then? But what to write and when? Busy at work, the kitchen is still far from complete, the sun is very much out and, oh yeah, I forgot, I don’t BLOG!!! Ha AH!! Almost got me there. Bloody social networking. Bollocks. That is all. Long Live Hunter S Thompson!!!!