Mildewed Donkey

Good Morrow, Hey-nonny-nonny and marry nuncle.

Yes, back by unpopular demand, I have returned to make a punitive attempt at occupying your poor little eyes for the brief amount of times to read my nonsense. I do, however, offer my apple-oh-geez that I am somewhat inebriated, what with it being a day of the week and all.

I now have my own love shack in Snowdonia, and by love shack I mean a place where I can go home and sit and think about elves and other such weighty matters. I have rather a nice house, if small. And by small I mean two rooms. Yes, I am a peasant. Not to be confused with a pheasant- they have no rooms unless they are particularly affluent. I work full-time as well no so I’m clearly god. Just a minimum wage god. With no powers.

Well anyhoo, as the marginally more observant and abosorbant of you may have noticed it is Christmas time, and as such I wish PEOPLE WOULD FORGET ABOUT JESUS WHO IS MYTHICAL AND, EVEN IF HE DID EXIST, DIED TWO MILLENIA AGO. Religion is only slightly less relevant than myself.

And to Kate, hello if you happen to be reading this searching for a mention of your name as I do to yours- hope life is almost as fun as a barrel of erotically trained monkeys.

Due, dew and jew to my inebriated state I will leave you now before I slur my way to oblivion.

Me.

P>S> CAROLYN! Call me back- I missed your call by pooing (in the bathroom)(well the toilet anyway) and would rather wish to talk to you as I’ve tried ringing and the phone says error in connection!!!! I love you!

Me 2: This Time It’s Personal