After Getting Up

#1
I have found through personal experience
that getting up
of a morning
and going outside
clothed or bare
depending if i wish to startle the birds
or not
or non-genuflecting passers by
leads to movement
and by St Gadril's law of Ergonimics
Movement always leaves deposits safely behind.
If this is bad or not bad,
only smell will tell
as time has not woken up yet
and is still sleeping in the back of the Esplanade with two S&W 9mm's
a sawn off 9 gauge auto
and 14 full mags.
I dont read mags in the mornings.
I prefer to wander about looking lost and vacant
mingle in
the same as everyone else.
Time has different ideas.
He likes to sing Dixie,
smile showing all his sharp fangs
and dance in way that shows he cant do dat for toffee.

So at lunchtime ( I knew as I was in Hungary-
its always just before lunchtime there. so
no one actually gets to eat lunch
but they know its definately coming in a few minutes
always measured from NOW)
I took a left on instinct (HA)
and ended up in Macedonia,
at the Sepulcre of St Joseph the Vascilator
who died as a result of intense debate
wether he should go for a dump or not
in the name of the Holy Manatease
and eventually after a period of Time
burst a holy kidney.
So the Pope
having been fully informed of the extended event
sent his lacky
Cardinal Wolverhamton
to radiate the corpse
and collect parts for him to worship.
So afterwards
he kept St Joe's jaw bone in a cup
next to his toothbrush
(the hard bristle red one)
and decreed him able to rid your kitchen of flies;
2,000 Hail Goody Goodies and half your worldly goods.
I left knowing a lot more about having done that
and not needing to do it anymore.

Returning to Ghent in Time for dinner,
I picked up the latest Mag on
Proposals for E8 Harmonious Men's Bags
August 2019
Pale Umbrella Edition
from the stand on the corner of Wax and Lyrical
next to the Pi shop
run by the one legged ex-Etonian dribble nose
who always greets me warmly
with a rancid belch in Italian
and goes on to distribute copper dust
on the reading matter
(with a gayly flavoured grin carped in the Golden Rule)
laid out across his Fibonacci sized boots;
a process considered by many to inflate the economy
justify the existance of Greeks and Turks
as having been proven to have the same Mytochondrial DNA
as an isotope of billiard balls
( which oddly carbon dates
and magnetically aligns the inception
to a very wet and uncomfortable
February the 6th, or 7th,--
a matter of intense dating process debate beteween
Professor Metz of Stanford Car Wash Inc.,
and Prof. Robert Billabongy of Utah
Regulated Flax Combing club--
14.6 Trillion years ago
in Ascot Under the Sea)
and no purposful reason.

Ah. I drink my tea and speculate as I flip the Mag pages...
Reading about the upcoming choosing row about
if its better to be or not to BBC
a member of the Jew Hating Grants for All (Non-Whites) Society or
The Bipolar Anarchists.
I liked the article about Richard Pukeaura Branstompickle
who runs the Streetwalker empire
and hides his ethics of a sewer rat
with similar modesty
to a fluffy guy wearing a T-shit 10 sizes too small.
Most
Yummy.

Another wonderful day
gently passing the hours
while the human population
of Planet Earth ( the blue one except in long wave)
is busily engaged in suicidal genocide.
FORGET WHAT YOU WANT?
GET RID OF WHAT YOU NEED.
FRESH AIR AND SUNSHINE
WORKS FOR ALL TREES

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