Sunday, October 28, 2012

the old home town looks the same

Myself: Hang on a minute while I comb back my wig and glue on a a goatee that screams "Punch me!"

Prodnose: What now? What now for pity's sake?

Myself: Every journey ends, but we go on. The world turns and we turn with it. Plans disappear. Dreams take over.....

Prodnose: OK I get it, you're taking the Bomber back home to Wales for a chunk of half term. Enough with the Johnny Suede already!

Myself: But wherever I go, there you are — my luck, my fate, my fortune.

Prodnose (resigned): How can I miss you if you won't go away?



Myself: Cardiff. Inevitable.
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