well... i have to agree... with my myself: who else?
exercising the torso would be...
just fine... getting a six-pack muscular "tinge"
even better...
it's not enough to cycle... press-up your body
weight so your man-***** disappear...
but then... the aesthetic of a ribbed:
what's otherwise a cage that encompasses
all the sort organs...
body-hair... i'm not going to shave my chest hair
therefore i'm not going to shave my stomach
hair...
hell... from time to time i get an itch: wanting
to revive the use of the razor...
but inspecting the work of the Turkish barbers...
it's not a prized beard / moustache...
**** me... it's a fu manchu and a walrus
   (when did i last see a barber?
the last time: after i saw a *******...
so about a month)
                                      and a garibaldi...
obviously the chin needs hiding...

but you simply can't pull off the aesthetic
of an athletic torso
when you have bush-whack sprouts growing
over it...
impossible to do...
best to leave one area of the body soft
to allow for some: liver-boxing...
like today... 2 and a half hours...
i did the inspection of Havering...
the entire council... from Havering itself:
a little village on the tip of the "topography"...
on a hill... founded prior to the battle of Hastings...
1040... something or other...
all the way down to the village of Rainham...
just beside the A13 to the "left"
and the Thames river to the "right"...
Upminster and that other little village
beginning with A-...

every time i get on my cheap-*** bicycle
i find the meaning of life...
not that there's much life to be found:
but plenty of meaning...
if i'm this supposed 6ft category of man...
for the choosiest of women
and i have it... ahem... "rough"...
no wonder... but mea culpa moi:
i'm also a minimalist...
even if i wanted to own a car...
or a bike... i wouldn't want to...
own it: but also not... own it...
pay a tax on it... to use...
a road tax... an m.o.t. you name it...
i like owning something: by owning it...

the idea of a car is so... beside the point
of ownership that...
i simply don't want to own one...
my grandfather didn't own a car:
my grandmother always: the mantis that she:
still is... even though he's "transitioned"...
regretted how he: ****** away
a Mercedes-Benz...
me too... ol' Joseph... i'm also counting
how many i can find...
find what?
how many goldfish with no wishes i can find
at the end of a bottle of bourbon...

it suits me fine...
a life is much more worth living when...
you know that...
someone can't blame you for your shortcomings...
if were to be staged in a trial
and a woman would claim with as much audacity as
might be expected that:
i made her miserable because i had... have... have...
had... a drinking "problem":
i already had the SOLUTION!
it was drinking: it wouldn't be her redeeming
company... prostitutes are for that...

what have i inherited: perhaps all the men in
my lineage have had "problems" with women...
how much fun it is to **** one:
to be with one... i just need my mother as
the perfect example... of late: come 9pm she throws
a tantrum while i sort out the food
and help her with the household chores...
the one time i will or ever have used
Fahrenheit over Celsius...
165°C is the most perfect temp. of chicken meat...
anything above it... a memory of my grandmother
butchering a chicken twice:
it's one "thing" to **** a chicken...
it's another... to don't give it due justice
when it's cooked...
an oven cooked chicken with ******* so un-juicy
that you wish you could be eating pure gelatine...
smacker... teeth seem to stick together...
shoe-lacing of teeth on over-cooked
chicken meat...         it's an ugh it's a smacker...

i once dated a Russian girl...
she "thought": hardly... that it was some sort
of an innovation to drink cognac with a slice
of lemon...
she also "thought" that a suntan was
a signature of lower-breeding...
a suntan was a peasant "thing"...

juicy chicken *******... perhaps the skin isn't
"suntanned" enough... but at least the juices are running...
you can't butcher a bird twice...
it's enough killing it...
but not giving it justice when cooking it?!
that's... mildly: unfair...

in the supposing absence of the world:
alias for: other people...
i can't remember the last time i've had a dream...
i look at the clouds...
there's a bearded man
reclining... with a baby dragon
on his chest: puffing out smoke
into the shape of a speech bubble...
i'm bound to see such things...
since i don't dream...

perhaps if i were to dream: i wouldn't see
stories in the clouds...
i'm growing suspicious of the she-maine-****
in my bed right now...
she usually "disappears" when i light a cigarette...
eyes piercing...
i thought petting cats was
supposed to be easy! she was supposed
to ******* and do her solipsistic hair-do in purple
and peacock subtleties long before
i came around to harness the keyboard...
but there she is... eyes piercing...
like i'm about to groom her again
and go wild with her uptight **** of an ***
cycling between outer London and inner London:
yet still going back to the tested brothel!

- oh good, she decided she was implied as more
important in some "elsewhere"...
i can keep a focus on immoveable objects
in my vicinity...

closer to eternity on a bicycle than with
72 virgins... closer to eternity with 72 prostitutes...
if i were going to be thoroughly: frank...
cannibalistic outskirts: of Germany:
literally we eat our own...
since the Christian metaphors will...
simply not do...
excavate the juices... the German fringe
"movement" are teasing the questions:
literally!

i was gagging for either a bicycle...
Thurrock... the flatlands... teasing the Thames
to: hold the tide...
the German cannibals...
an unlikely project... on the fringes...
the world might blink thoroughly through
the day...
eyes open... wide: come the: NACHT...
i see you... Albert Fisch... pushing needles
into your pelvis...
for the added conductivity... blizzard...

you simply can't butcher a chicken: twice!
you can't overcook the meat!
it's not fair on the cluck! cluck!

while making a Waldorf "profanity"... i added some
poached: said... meat... reiterated... meat...
i was making a rosół...
a chicken broth... all that was missing
was the celeriac head...
celery stalks... carrots... a parsley root...
garlic... leek stalks...
fresh parsley... i had some leftovers...

the Waldorf "profanity"...
i added some poached chicken thigh meat
to the usual: mayo... lettuce...
toasted walnuts:
mind you... all nuts ought to be toasted...
beginning with cashews...
walnuts... but pecans esp.
apple & celery..
    
my heart breaks while it still doesn't find concerns
to abdicate: for the crows of via death...
"gammon": all these simple girls...
from the villages from Havering through
to Rainham...
such native beauties... lucky them...
i live two outsider roles...
not born in England: having most of my life
lived in England...
born in Poland: having most of my life
not lived in Poland: hey! quadratic!
i'm an outside either way i "will" it"
i'm an outsider in either England or Poland!
born in Poland without an inkling
to the daily affairs,...
living in England... without anything that
to be inherited as... sensibly... "their" own!

numbed by the drink....
**** serve mollusk: she's the pitch-perfect
harem piece,,,