Who would like to go out to some fancy restaurant with me? Before would take a stroll on the beach. You know, to build up some appetite. Have some roseˋ on the beach…. Then get to that seaside restaurant to enjoy passing cruise liners, sunshine and waves. Order some oysters as a starter. Then order some oysters as main. And then few more oysters as a dessert. Anyone?

I would sing you some nice tunes all the way from one end of beach all the way to the restaurant. Like Harry Belafonte Banana boat song, then Jamaica farewell, Scarlet ribbons, then speed up a bit with Man smart, woman smarter 🙂 Some funny stuff too, like most of Rosemary Clooney songs. And some from Leonhard Cohen. You load 16 tons and whaddu you get! Another day older and deeper in debt! Louis Prima, just a gigolo 🙂 …. Anyone?

I promise I am all fun, and only fun! 

Aah, I was told I should be, this time, for first time in 25 years!, be invited to restaurant. That’s a bummer because so far, for the last 25 years, I have not ever, NOT ONCE, qualified to be invited to restaurant. Now to think, it’s rather sad, no? I have always been inviting, treating everyone, everyone I considered friends, a few men I considered I loved (read>I was blinded). I was never invited to restaurant. Am I twat? Why I do not qualify? Am I boring? Am I not worthy? Am I the richest among my people? I am not rich whatsoever. 

Today I drove 300 kilometres to deliver food aid to a total stranger. I am not sure I have written about it or not, so just to be clear. I stumbeled across Facebook post some 4 years ago, before the pandemic. That post asked for help for single mother of two who had responsibly paid all expenses, as one should, and now was facing hunger as not a penny was left for food. That post also explained in some details how this all happened. And also stated that the kids starting school in a months time had no clothes or school supplies due to that all difficulties. It struck (is that even a word?) me and I contacted the woman. The next thing I found myself on 4 hour shopping spree for this family, clothes, shoes, school supplies, and food. Delivering all this took another 3 hours. I know their names now. So last week she wrote me that they have again been unlucky as forced to help out her older son she gave all money to make sure her son has transport to work. He is now adult, by years, and has first real job in building site in other country. You know, taking away their jobs :). Last time I get stuff for them was I think…. before Xmas and then in February I guess. I don’t keep track. I only wish she would gather her stuff and move away from the shithole of a place she lives. But I can’t convince her ofcourse. No selfesteem, no dreams, no guts to take on new direction. Pity. So I just load up my car and go. It ain’t cheap. I spent 500Eur on todays trip and I am broke. I again, again broke. This fucking adulting drives me crazy. 

This fucking war orcs started in Ukraine. These fucking orcs now threatening us, random cyberattacks on our airports, on our banking systems. Yes, we know it’s them. And because of them I have no income, and because of them I have to get my act together and leave my home. Empty handed? Fucking hell. I have built my home for 20 years now. Sell it? Yes, then I have no place to return. And I am not single person, I have to get my kids and move asap.

Not sell my homes and wait here til orcs come to kill us? No thank you.

I am pissed on every person speaking russian. I can’t help it. Them bastards living here singing praise to pootin, fucking poo in a fucking tin. Damn those cockroaches.

So how about you invite me to restaurant? I would invite as I used to, but I am broke. 

Good nite