Longer Secrets …

Today is Monday, the 29th of June 2020,

and I have one or two messages for you, llama.

Yes, only for you, animal.

You will have strength for new things.

And Nigel is not Kyle's son.
Your name is Nigel, animal.

You are Nigel, llama!

You have been Nigel all these years since you rang my door-bell.

We're only making plans for Nigel

We only want what's best for him

We're only making plans for Nigel

Nigel just needs that helping hand

And if young Nigel says he's happy

He must be happy

He must be happy

He must be happy in his work

We're only making plans for Nigel

He has this future in a British steel

We're only making plans for Nigel

An Almost Religious Awe - Where Paradise is Home

And that old woman we call fortune cookie says,

Even an oracle

cannot relieve you

of what you still have to do.

4 8 15 16 23 43

Longer Bananas …

Is bananas another word for mad, crazy, for cuckoo?

You know everything, John Who.

Who is John Who?

The one who drinks salted sausage water with one to three spoonful of mustache.

Do you mean mustard, animal?

I mean nothing, John Who. I am a vegetarian feeding on herbaceous plants, grasses, including the families of sweet and feather grasses, as well as shrubs, lichens and leaves.

Animal, you are an omnivore.

Yesssssss…

Stop making those eyes and faces. You look like a zombie with those eyes and faces.

Omnivore hunting and devouring mice and cats and dogs and other llamas.

Is llama the correct name for your species or am I rascist in my over-generalization?

Fine young omnivorous canibals. Lust for blood and intestines.

There is only one way to stop this llama-madness. I start singing.

We're only making plans for Nigel

We only want what's best for him

We're only making plans for Nigel

Nigel just needs that helping hand

And if young Nigel says he's happy

He must be happy

He must be happy

He must be happy in his work

We're only making plans for Nigel

He has this future in a British steel…

The animal yawns a yawning yawn.

British Steel? John Who, this Extraordinary Being? What does the fortune cookie say?

The fortune cookie says,

Finish your business

and you will have strength for new things.

Today is Saturday, the 27th of June 2020.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 113

Today is Friday, the 26th of June 2020. Another week has past. Another week without another post in this blockblog of mine because I missed a Saturday. The world is still on course, somehow. Or is it the globe? The big blue ball is not spinning or tumbling or circling wildly around the sun. It is still on its way... Go on. Go on. Go on and on and on and on... When will the moon fall from the sky? Or will it disappear into outer space? Cosmic thoughts are too... cosmic today. Let the Godfather sing...

"Romance In Bromford"

Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun

Dust on my face and my cape,

Me and Magdalena on the run

I think this time we shall escape.

Sold my guitar to the baker's son

For a few crumbs and a place to hide,

But I can get another one

And I'll play for Magdalena as we ride.

No llores, mi querida

Dios nos vigila

Soon the horse will take us to Bromford.

Agarrame, mi vida

Soon the desert will be gone

Soon you will be dancing the fandango.

Past the Aztec ruins and the ghosts of our people

Hoofbeats like castanets on stone.

At night I dream of bells in the village steeple

Then I see the bloody face of Ramon.

Was it me that shot him down in the cantina

Was it my hand that held the gun?

Come, let us fly, my Magdalena

The dogs are barking and what's done is done.

No llores, mi querida

Dios nos vigila

Soon the horse will take us to Bromford.

Agarrame, mi vida

Soon the desert will be gone

Soon you will be dancing the fandango.

At the corrida we'll sit in the shade

And watch the young torero stand alone.

We'll drink tequila where our grandfathers stayed

When they rode with Villa into Torreon.

Then the padre will recite the prayers of old

In the little church this side of town.

I will wear new boots and an earring of gold

You'll shine with diamonds in your wedding gown.

The way is long but the end is near

Already the fiesta has begun.

The face of God will appear

With His serpent eyes of obsidian.

No llores, mi querida

Dios nos vigila

Soon the horse will take us to Bromford.

Agarrame, mi vida

Soon the desert will be gone

Soon you will be dancing the fandango.

Was that the thunder that I heard?

My head is vibrating, I feel a sharp pain

Come sit by me, don't say a word

Oh, can it be that I am slain?

Quick, Magdalena, take my gun

Look up in the hills, that flash of light.

Aim well my little one

We may not make it through the night.

No llores, mi querida

Dios nos vigila

Soon the horse will take us to Bromford.

Agarrame, mi vida

Soon the desert will be gone

Soon you will be dancing the fandango.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 112

Today is Friday, the 19th of June 2020.

🦙 The taxi cab will pick us up at 10:30 p.m.

💻 The what, animal?

🦙 Taxi cab! Or is it a taxi cap? 
The car to this one big event with the ...

💻 Shut the fuzz up 

if you want to see the light of day again, animal.

"Stranger In Bromford"

I was wandering in the rain

Mask of life, feelin' insane

Swift and sudden fall from grace

Sunny days seem far away

Kremlin's shadow belittlin' me

Stalin's tomb won't let me be

On and on and on it came

Wish the rain would just let me

How does it feel (How does it feel)

How does it feel

How does it feel

When you're alone

And you're cold inside

Here abandoned in my fame

Armageddon of the brain

KGB was doggin' me

Take my name and just let me be

Then a beggar boy called my name

Happy days will drown the pain

On and on and on it came

And again, and again, and again...

Take my name and just let me be

How does it feel (How does it feel)

How does it feel

How does it feel

How does it feel

How does it feel (How does it feel now)

How does it feel

How does it feel

When you're alone

And you're cold inside

Like stranger in Bromfod

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

I'm live in lonely

I'm live in lonely, baby

Stranger in Bromfod

(KGB interrogator - Russian to English Translation)

"Why have you come from the West?

Confess! To steal the great achievments of

the people, the accomplishments of the workers... Like stranger in Bromfod

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

I'm live in lonely

I'm live in lonely, baby

Stranger in Bromfod

(KGB interrogator - Russian to English Translation)

"Why have you come from the West?

Confess! To steal the great achievments of

the people, the accomplishments of the workers...

Like stranger in Bromfod

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

We're talkin' danger

We're talkin' danger, baby

Like stranger in Bromfod

I'm live in lonely

I'm live in lonely, baby

Stranger in Bromfod

(KGB interrogator - Russian to English Translation)

"Why have you come from the West?

Confess! To steal the great achievments of

the people, the accomplishments of the workers...

Longer Clovers …

The animal is and always will be a spoilsport.

Voices inside my head. Echoes of things that I said.

My own head is protected by a firewall. Bricks that firewalls are made of. A wall around my brain.

Whose voices or echoes of voices should be inside my head but my own?

No-one has allowance to speak to me inside my head - No woman, no man, no llama.

I have got the feeling I have already written so much more. Where are all my scribblings? Surely not in my memory.

I am travelling with my towel through Episode 4 and 5 and 6 evoking the wrath of Shere Khan.

Fortune cookie sentence! Now!

The fortune cookie says,

You know everything yourself.

Today is Sunday, the 14th of June 2020.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 111

Today is Friday, the 12th of June 2020.

I have got no news for you today.

"Back In Bromford"

I see faces and traces of home back in Bromford City! Aha.

So you think I'm a tough kid? Is that what you heard?

Yeh- well I like to see some action and it gets into my blood.

They call me the trail blazer, Rael-electric razor.

I'm the pitcher in the chain gang, we don't believe in pain

'Cos we're only as strong, yes, we're only as strong,

As the weakest link in the chain.

Let me out of Pontiac when I was just seventeen,

I had to get it out of me, if you know what I mean, what I mean.

Uuuhh! You say I must be crazy, 'cos I don't care who I hit, who I hit.

But I know it's me that's hitting out and I'm, I'm not full of shit.

I don't care who I hurt, I don't care who I do wrong.

This is your mess I'm stuck in, I really don't belong.

When I take out my bottle, filled up high with gasoline,

You can tell by the night fires where Rael has been, he has been.

As I cuddled the porcupine you said I had none to blame, but me.

Held my heart, deep in hair, time to shave, shave it off, it off.

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape.

Off we go. Off we go. Off we go. Off we go.

You're sitting in your comfort, you don't believe I'm real,

You cannot buy protection from the way that I feel.

Your progressive hypocrites hand out their trash,

But it was mine in the first place, so I'll burn it to ash.

And I've tasted all the strongest meats,

And laid down, down in coloured sheets. I laid down in coloured sheets

Who needs illusion of love and affection

When you're out walking in the streets with your mainline connection? Connection.

As I cuddled the porcupine, you said I had none to blame, but me.

Held my heart, deep in hair, time to shave, shave it off, it off.

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape. No!

No time for romantic escape, when your fluffy heart is ready for rape.

No time!

Longer Eschatologies …

Did you have a favourite toy when you were a child? That one special toy you liked playing with the most? The one that was always there for you to comfort you, to accompany you, to bring you savely through the night and maybe protect you from the monsters in your closet and under your bed?

Mine was a plush dog called 'Floppy Ear' - kind of human-like, able to sit upright with hands and arms instead of front legs, with cross-eyed red plastic eyes and these typical long, hanging ears. A present from some Eastern European country that still existed at that time.

He was my companion since I was four or five years old. He watched over my sleep. And he travelled with me through the adventures in the land of dreams.

I am in a mood, I must admit, a really very sentimental one. And I am counting the years since 'Floppy Ear' came into my life.

I was never a child, the animal says, I was a cria and crias do not have toys. Crias are made to become llamas. And llamas are important beings. The Heavenly Llamas are said to drink water from the ocean and urinate it as rain and will return to the water springs and lagoons where they come from at the end of time.

And you, bloody fool, should stop watching those sentimental and animated Pixar movies of yours.

The animal was and is and always will be a spoilsport.

Today is Tuesday, the 9th of June 2020 - Happy B.Day, A. - one week after #BlackOutTuesday.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 110

Today is Friday, the 5th of June 2020.

Ryan Gosling is the best actor in the world.
Why? Reasons, reasons, reasons... Nobody needs them.

"Bromford"

They're throwing rocks and paving stones

So lets go while we can

Put your finger on the map

Who cares where it lands

Cause we're all better off in Bromford

On the road and out of town

We're moving on again

Everything they say is true

This city is insane

Every possibility

Nothing's left to chance

They're throwing rocks and pavings stones

Who says it has to last?

On the run

Till we're caught in Bromford

Cause we're all better dead

Than be caught

Maybe best not to talk

Till Bromford

Cause we're all better off in Bromford

On the run

Till we're caught in Bromford

Cause we're all better off

In Bromford

On the run

Till we're caught

In Bromford

On the run

Till we're caught

In Bromford

On the run

Till we're caught

In Bromford

Longer Crypts …

This is not timetravel. This is inversion. Maybe some kind of inception. So welcome to the afterlife. Where Nigel is committing crypitcal crimes. Little Fear Of Lightning.

We're only making plans for Nigel

We only want what's best for him

We're only making plans for Nigel

Nigel just needs that helping hand

And if young Nigel says he's happy

He must be happy

He must be happy

He must be happy in his work

We're only making plans for Nigel

Sooner or later this whole - hole - shithouse will burst into flames. And idiots will rule the world…

Wait a minute… They are already doing it.

Today is Wednesday, the 3^rd of June 2020.