i'm out

i'm leaving london for good this time. honestly. i've shipped my stuff back home. it's over. done. i'm out. the corporate dream is over. i'm going to live a simple hand-to-mouth type existence with a tribe of pygmies and their pet gorrilla in a tropical rainforest somewhere in southern rwanda. it's green. zero carbon footprint. except facebook. they better have facebook. god bless facebook.

so i look to my eskimo friend
when i'm down

anyway - apologies to those i haven't been able to catch up with in my 6 weeks back. you've been spared.

oh yeah - if you wish to follow my bumblings through africa click on the following link:

www.weak-kneed-winch.blogspot.com

i should be updating infrequently.

take care and may jehovah grant each one of you three wishes that will assist you in progressing along you personal evolutionary path.

the after-booze bog

courtesy of greg

Dave is ok. He says he needs a booze putty though. The type with the pockets of air in between the rapid fire sliders. Starts off with fffffffttttt, and then bloomp, bloomp bloomp, bloooooomp. Prrrrrttttt. Your stomach sounds like a cat fight. I miss those. The relief is worth it all, even if it means you are passed by for promotion cause you lose all the respect of your colleagues after leaving your stall.