Maybe it's that you have had enough of me? Maybe now it is my time? Maybe now it is after all about time.
Last night's dream was a nice one about windmills. I was an engineer working on a windmill just for me and my friends, but the windmill wouldn't work, no matter how much we changed the engineering. It was quite a fascinating dream just to see the nice workings of the mechanics. Nevertheless, I do not remember much else about that there dream of which it was I had.
I forget a hell of a lot about nuff that goes on in my head at nights. Everybody thinks I'm totally insane. It's a bit lonely sometimes. Maybe I have to jest with them, maybe I must find a celestial eminence, maybe bells are ringing out for Christmas day. The nuance of viagra emails that would stand out is that I'm going back to the good old days. Everybody understands you, what is the Samoan for hiding in the sand dunes? One more hour in bed, ready to spill the things in my head. Her name is Judy, and we will see her again.
What you find is that people on the internet do not half take the fucking piss.
Ask yourself, Are you alright? Is Ukraine alright? Why is mother so rude to me? Maybe it's because she's a Londoner, maybe not.
Maybe I'm not alright, is that okay? You lot seem to think I'm nuts.
Let me tell you the truth about Daniel Best.