Saturday, September 26, 2015

7215. LET'S TURN ON THE MAGISTRATE

LET'S TURN ON 
THE MAGISTRATE
The blooming flat world is on fire : English guys
are beginning to stutter. That can't say Eton in less
than ten minutes, and Oxford, give it up. Just look
around me here  -  bowler hats and pompadours,
I wish I'd never left Algiers. Now, this pomaded
guy is offering me his wench. I need seriously
to decline the offer.
-
I walked on past Trafalgar, and they were putting up
anti-Euro signposts on the back of old pictures of
Heath. He was that Conservative Prime Minister
from back in the seventies. Nineteen seventies  - I
did always like the bloke. He spoke pretty forward,
and now I hear he too liked his booze and his 'boys.'
-
That stuff seems to always happen, but I don't ever
know why. I'm a real ladies man myself, always
have been, since many years ago. Now, of course,
no one throws a second glance. Little proper
pussy cats everywhere, I guess.

No comments: