(How are you my beautiful, brave friend?)
You asked me to write something about myself, so here it is. It’s easier than writing on messenger (I think)
Where do I start ? well I could mention them Catholics that raised me I think I already have, I do not need to describe church and the stuff they used to brain wash you with. ” Jesus died for your sins” ” Thats his business, I never asked him to.” The good monks as they were called were horrified and singled me out for special treatment. ( Not true) but it certainly caused trouble. Detentions and so on.
Have you read the story about the shot gun cartridges yet? Please do it’s one of the funny ones and was such good fun making those explosions as was raiding the chemistry lab stores at school and obtaining bomb making equipment. These days I would be stewing in Guantamano bay or wherever it is they lock bomb makers and terrorists now. It was always our dream to blow up the Abbey tower with that stupid big bell in it during Sunday mass, that would have been such fun. Never got round to it.
Briefcases, a trombone and probably some other places as well, do you know the laxative story yet, it’s on FB though I may well publish it here as well. Then there is the week of the aerosol canisters (school again) A few of us were bored and started sucking on deodorant cans and getting fucked up on that stuff. It tasted horrible and that was the good stuff and left your mouth all dried out like the bottom of a parrot’s cage.
We drank like mad men in that place as well, cause we were bored and there was bugger all else to do at weekends. My SEN school was fairly normal compared to this place, mind you there we had no chance to do mischief and if you did , were caught Dog help your sorry arse. It would get beaten into next week I held the school caning record for a good while there. Something I am still proud of and I do like being spanked. By the right person of course. But that’s another story altogether.
Taken in Oxford around 1999/2000
Thank you for giving me the impetus to write again, it provides a greater release than just painting and I do enjoy it so. Well i am going to eat my dinner now and drink some of that Cider before it goes off (old joke, older story, please ask) Then I really must call up my very good friend J and make sure she is OK she was sectioned a little while ago and is in Bing … would love to get out there sometime but not before she is out and better again.
I really ought to write some more about wearing skirts and not having any trousers no more. Soon ok