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As I text to my best pal not 15 minutes ago…

     Thank fuckety fuck shit twatbastard titwank that it’s Friday!!


Rebuffed by the Vatican (not altogether unsurprisingly) for the new Papacy.

Being  accused of sexual deviancy, perversion and Internet subterfuge and today having an episode of what, in its politest form, was described as “letting my views be known”* 
                            This, my friends, has not been my best working week ever.


I think the only thing that will help tonight is being cuddled by my girls as we watch comedy skits, interspersed with harrowing clips of children living on rubbish dumps & having their toes chewed off by rats (and of course  getting  a squidge with my gorgiepie niece tomorrow).

Vitamin V may also have her part to play.

Perhaps I should seek literary refuge in the soothing pages of one of the tomes of one of our greatest Poets….

Not Keats…

       Not Wordsworth…

            No Dante here…

                 Not even a smidge of Seamus Heaney…

                        No performance art from Benjamin Zephaniah…

                              Damn it!  Not even some Pam Ayres:-

Cannon & Ball is where it’s at.

Make mine a large one and easy on the mixer!

Bottoms Up!

Bottoms Up!

* AKA kicking off ever so slightly and having a public rant


About TheDHW

Not loathed by totally everyone so that's good right?

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