Tag: BULLDOGS

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OLD BIRDS FRESH PEEK AT 2022 AND MEMORIES OF THE TRANS SIBERIAN EXPRESS.

OR RIBS ARE NEARLY BETTER AND PREPARING SOME ART WHILE DETOXING.

Alert: Links are where the words are underlined in yellow, just click and you’ll get there!

Writing my journal while gazing over the Gobi Desert speeding by

Tough times last year trying to get out of the UK then trying to get back in, (why I came back I’ll never know, what was the matter with me?) and under terrible vicious conditions manufactured by Doris in his eternal house of horrors. Then after leaving Mexico last year being incarcerated in a ‘Quarantine Hotel’ and nearly having a nervous breakdown. Then our beloved dog Brutus got sick (while I was still imprisoned) and later died despite all our valiant efforts. Amongst the demonstrations against tyranny and usual trials and tribulations about resettling in the UK, (I always get ants in my pants after just a couple of months even in normal times) and general stress (bailiffs and all sorts of shite for nothing) and being homesick for Mexico, it seemed that I was in a dark place. So I started to look at property in Bulgaria to live a simple life off-grid growing my own veg and mushroom hunting while creating a studio to carve sculpture when another disaster befell me, in that suddenly Bulgaria became fascist too. This harsh body blow was followed by my having actual body blows when I dislocated my knee then a couple of weeks later cracked and broke ribs in a series of ludicrous strokes of bad luck. A lot of pain from both and as usual I didn’t do anything except home treatment and physio.

SLIDE SHOW OF OUR LOVELY BRUTUS R.I.P. AND THE ESCAPE IN MEXICO LAST YEAR.

Yeah, bummer finale to 21. A shit sandwich of vast proportions.

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DAY TEN. SECOND FRIDAY.

HONEST REPORTS, DAY BY DAY FROM QUARANTINE HOTEL HOLIDAY INN HEATHROW. (SEE DAY NINE HERE)

IN QUARANTINE HOTEL HELL A NEW CRUSHING BLOW, BRUTUS MY SONS BULLDOG BEEN TAKEN INTO HOSPITAL

Brutus says please!

All other news from today has been made irrelevant as I just received a call from my son that Brutus our British Bulldog has been taken into hospital with severe breathing problems. This news is the final straw. This is new torture whilst I’m still not allowed to leave here until one minute past midnight. A day when I felt relatively happy has now developed into a terrible crying jag. I simply feel that the ground I walk on will never be safe again for this is literally the final straw. This wonderful kind magnificent boy is now in peril and only just turned six years of age, young even bulldog standards.