Monday, January 10, 2022

Psychedelic Soap Suds


Bit of a slow day yesterday but I'm now safely home after a short spell of temporary incarceration and enforced but enjoyable DIY. My diet seemed to improve mainly due to an excess of eggs and seasonal BrewDog samples. As I was engaged in various home improvement exercises my level of fitness has also scored an impressive 7.6 on the Richter Scale. Some tortuous Allan Key work and a lot of intimate sandpaper detailing must take the credit. I'm also back to breathing in and out easily without the aid of a tight woolen jumper or a good slap on the back from a shop assistant. 

Health wise things are mostly on the up, whilst around us the general public seems to be drifting somewhat, mostly looking under the weather due to weather mainly and a lack of government advice and good greens. Speaking of diets, last night a man who looked a lot like Larry David passed me in the street carrying three plates of steaming mince and tatties on a tray. I've no idea where he came from, he just appeared bearing this traditional dish, sashaying like a skilled waiter. Turns out he was headed in the direction of the local church, a building that was shrouded in darkness. I've no idea what type of ceremony he was taking part in within that ancient and sacred space. It certainly wasn't the Miley Cyrus line dancing night or the regular Weight-Watcher's "ultra light breakfast" meet up. Religions can be confusing.

My awful taste in music continues: Mostly I blame Vic Reeves for getting me started on listening to Jonny Winter once again. Bloody comedians and their Texas blues legends, Instagraming their eclectic couch based dance moves. Well we're in this for the long run and I'll be back to my old self as soon as the effects of the psychedelic suds and the dark Ritter Sports begin to wear off. In closing here's a picture of the winter sky just outside the bathroom window right now, directly above the fountain head and local gibbet. 

No comments:

Post a Comment