slanderhour

Do you have a hobby? My hobby is being a member of my Neighbourhood Watch. Which is sort of like being a Cowboy, when you think about it.

I stand, bolt upright, surveying my cul-de-sac, allowing myself to blink precisely every 90 seconds. 

I have developed a technique where I gulp in large quantities of air, almost as if I am taking a gigantic bite of the atmosphere so that any trespassers won't hear me breathing, heavily, against the bay window, which doesn't happen now, because of the breathing thing I just said.  

I don't own a gun, but I do own a large knife sharpener, which in the catering trade they call an iron. Like a cowboy, I'm waiting, with my iron, for some drifter to turn the wrong corner. Then I'll show them. Just they wait. 

I think it was Sir Alf Ramsey who once said 'It is better to have loved when lost than to have never lost anything at all'. 

Well, I'm not sure what he was talking about specifically there, but it sounds like he was suffering from some level of Regret. 

Regrets are not your fault, and they will get in you in the end. So accept it, and move on. 

You are Of. We all are Of. Of isn't something you can just switch off, or even put on standby. 

Before you were born, you were If.

All of your gametes are If. 

But what came before If? 

Probably more Of is what I say. 

Admit it, you've got a favourite thing. 

My favourite painting? Gotta be Ophelia by John Everett Millais. 

Favourite piece of music? Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams

Favourite Designer? Alexander McQueen

Favourite Chef? Maangchi

Favourite Actor? Does it matter?

Read between the lines, please. 

The Birth of Dirtypantz tells the biographical story of Geoffrey Hayes (Kris Marshall), a Ticket Inspector in service with the Transpennine Express Train Company. After almost choking on a pineapple flavoured Jolly Rancher in 1979,  Geoffrey awakens in 1977 to find himself working for a predecessor of the Transpennine Express, the First North Western/Arriva Trains Northern, and placed on gardening leave whilst he recuperates in The Cross Lane Hospital for the Mentally Handicapped, Scarborough. 

A fellow who’d spent his last dime

Inside you, as you read this, you are deciding whether or not to build a wall around this monologue. You can make several doors within your perimeter, and at any point, during any syllable, you can walk through a door and away, onto something else for your eyes to listen to, and for your ears to see. This is evidence of YOUR canon. We all have one, and it decides, collectively, where we go, what we see, and most importantly, what we leave behind. Canon is not us, but it is what we are trying to grasp and mould into a figure that we feel comfortable residing within. 

Would you trust a psychotherapist with your life? Is trust implicit? Does it cease to be Trust once it is noticed?

What the bleeding hell is trust? 

The Three explore the nature of Trust and what it means nowadays when you can't even trust your best mate these days. 

S.LANDERHOUR

Sometimes we start a conversation and it only lasts for 8 minutes. 

Try limiting your words today. Say less. YOU CAN DO IT!!

Thank you for coming home

After the rush has gone