Devoted Readers

Decided to switch my introspection into a different outlet. My attempts are real writing need some anonymity. Sorry folks. From now on, it's photos and updates only. I have a different, private journal for all the dodgy 'Sex in the City', 'Bridget Jones' writing.

Maybe I will write something that could turn into a money-spinner. A coffee table book for people too dysfunctional to own a coffee table. Still, all this writing is like snacking between meals, given it's my day job.

Latest news - Saw a fight outside the gym last night. Two big beefcakes going at it after their weights session, all pumped up and raring to go. Second fight I've seen - with the cat fight at the tube. Must be something in the water.

Also - off to boxing tonight. There is something satisfying about being taught by a guy that sounds like he just stepped off the set of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Quality geezer thug speak.

BACON
(voice-over)
Let me tell you about Hatchet Harry. Once there was this geezer called Smithy Robinson who worked for Harry. It was rumoured that he was on the take. Harry invited Smithy round for an explanation. Smithy didn't do a very good job. Within a minute Harry lost his temper and reached for the nearest thing at hand, which happened to be a fifteen-inch black rubber cock. He then proceeded to batter poor Smithy to death with this; that was seen as a pleasant way to go . . . Hence, Hatchet Harry is a man you pay if you owe.