It’s been a hard week. I am very tired

(But it’s now Sunday and I am well rested)

This is a good tired though.

(I like to sound positive these days – I am older and wiser).

I was disciplined throughout the week.

(But I still slept in like a fat capatalist).

I worked on carpentry, garden landscaping and writing.

(I’m a hybrid you see, am I a working class pseudo genius?).

May I be so bold to call Carpentry, Gardening & Writing the “grand trifecta”?

(And I did like to have a flutter in my youth – horse racing)

And now I am weary.

(This is true – Yawn – of life?).

Or as The great Cricketer Sir Richard Hadlee said in his autobiography

(I shouldn’t talk of sports – but what a great Pro ol’ Paddles was!)-

His mantra: “No I am not tired – I am just ‘pleasantly weary’ “

(That’s called a ‘Jedi Mind Trick’).

Yep on the Carpentry side – the Gib flew up to the ceiling.

(Because I am strong as an Ox maaaaate),

And then (just like men in society these days) it all got heavily screwed .

(It did, it really did just look down at any gutter and ask a bloke that now lives there).

On the garden side – I got a spade and dug some weeds away and replaced it with gravel.

(Now your getting excited aren’t you..you you..garden-o-phile you!).

The weeds that were thrown away are analogous to what 3rd Wave Feminism has done to men.

(We will be spread on their toast soon – mark my words – ManJamTM?).

Then I did some writing – I worked on poems, & on editing one of my Novellas.

(It’s easier than you think – you just start writing once every couple of days & ‘hey presto’ it emerges).

Who knows one day something may come of all this sillyness.

(But I need to network more *sigh* – do I need a girlboss PR manager?).

I’m crossing my fingers that this is not all a collosal waste of my life’s time .

(Like working in an office your whole life in Melbourne New York or Paris).

You never know, I could end up ‘making it at fifty’ like the great Buk.

(I’m talkin’ about Bukowski the – famous San Pedro ‘poet of the gutters’).

But I wonder who my ‘John Martin’ will be?

(The Guy who discovered Buk @ paid him $100 a month in 1970)

Stranger things can happen,

(Like an ex forgiving you AND being female)

And rareness can sometimes not just come in the form of hens teeth

(I don’t have any yet – luck that is, yet ‘hens teeth’ I have plenty of) –

But Sometimes in can be the Black Swan that comes and speaks fluent cockney ‘rhyming slang’ to you

(ok here it comes a tribute to my forgotten English heritage):

Chin up son, (Self explanitory)

’bout time we went down to the battle cruiser, (go the the pub – the ‘boozer’)

Down a pig’s ear, (Have a Beer)

Forget about the ol’ pain & strife, (Your wife or missus at home)

Forget our worries about the lorries, (That’s not thymign slang I just added it)

Chat up the a few Twist and Twirls, (Chat up the girls at the pub)

& the next day just take a Sherbet ‘ome (Sherbet is a Taxi).

AND NOW ITS TIME TO QUIT WHILE BEHIND.

THIS IS AFTER ALL SHAMELESS FILLER

YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER READ IT

IT WAS A TURD THAT I BARELY POLISHED

Sorry to shout – now you good folk have a good day,

(And the rest of you bastards can bugger off!)

P.s. I bet this crap filler will be liked much more than my best and most considered stuff.

Sods Law.

(But what can you do?)