Friday, 29 July 2011

But First Things First: Frick On A Stick.

Right, well I’ve been horribly tricked. When Daddy Ginge made the UNFATHOMABLE decision to move from our lovely snuggly house in Sheffield to a small, falling apart house in the middle of nowhere, clearly he didn’t mean leaving our lovely snuggly house in Sheffield for a small, falling apart house in the middle of nowhere.

So what I’m doing in the middle of nowhere is anyone’s guess.

After spending my first few days here mulling it over, (expect plenty more mulling, there is nothing else to do here but mull) I now realise that denial is probably my safest option. I know psychologists frown on such practicality, but if Freud were here, he’d definitely be saying; ‘Ginge, the key to a sound mind comes from bringing unconscious conflict to our conscious where it can be dealt with appropriately. Unless of course that conflict is moving to Hope Valley, in which case, you just keep that shit well covered’. And we all know what a pillar of mental stability Freud was.

So! From now on, I’m not in the countryside, I definitely don’t live here and that is not a cockerel I can hear outside. Excellent plan.


P.s. With that in mind, if the cow I’m looking at wouldn't mind getting out of my line of vision, that would just make my day... Yes I'm talking to you Beefy.. You’re not being ironic, you’re being a dick.

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