Today’s serious post will have to be allowed to go cold and
then reviewed because I’m sure it will need further editing.
I decided not to post the ditty which rhymed ‘Coco’ with ‘joke-o’ because I knew it would be misconstrued.
I thought it both funny and innocent, but I also imagined being accosted by a local
farmer asking ‘I hear you’re a racist now, JJ. How did you get into that type o’
thing?’ And then I might have to cope with the mad woman going on about foreigners coming
over here, taking our jobs and women and acting like they own the feckin’
place!
The only Ashbourne encounter today was too subtle to bother
with. It was one of those situations characterised by repeated mutual glances,
and terminated by a sense of both disappointment and self-reproach
for presuming to judge others.
I suppose the dream was mildly interesting. It was about an
old flame, only for the purposes of the dream she’d been re-cast as a man. What
the hell does that mean? (We only talked.)
I’ve no idea, so I’m going to bed.
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