yesterday afternoon horsemouth finished working and drank beer to make up for it. the weather is improving he now has the option to sit out in the sun in the back garden which he will take until he de-grumps. horsemouth likes to do good work and he was frankly struggling a bit. oh well. long day. bad day. fuck it. high-de ho.
horsemouth can't deny the returns on cryptos and doges coins and a like and he can't blame his friends for making money when it's up and walking about (none of are rich), but, as a puritan, he's bound to point out that it's speculation, it's the froth on the latte of capitalist accumulation 'death to the running doges lackeys of imperialism' etc. (sorry, sorry, who let chairman mao in here? doesn't he know he's supposed to be dead?')ohmigod it's an outbreak of the communist dead. matron!
lenin got as far as the railway station before he was apprehended and returned to the secure unit - don't you know how much trouble that could be?
it's all tulips (remarks horsemouth the envious).
horsemouth has been binge listening to a horror podcast which was very good at some point (in series two) dunwich crops up. a port the size of london that collapsed into the sea (and yes like ys the the church bells can be heard tolling under water).
today birthday of karl marx, the death of the reverend gary davis. looks like a nice day out there (horsemouth may go for a walk)
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