My brothers, your humble narrator is despondent today.
Tried to write my frackin book. Couldn't get anywhere. And neither smoking, strong coffee or the cat could pull me through this. Why is God punishing me? Is it because I haven't been to church for 3 weeks? Well, if it is, then please stop the Vicar from doing christenings during the service then! Do 'em Sunday afternoons once a month like the old Vicar did! Like my own kids had! Do you know what a nightmare that is? Havin 4 brats christened before Communion?
Godparents hovering uncomfortably while the guests take up all the regular seats? Keep it to yourselves, loves!
Anyway, I digress. My motives are sincere for writing this book. I wanna make a fast buck so I can get out of this shithole! My feelings have not changed, o my brothers. But my fingers and mind remain stiff and unmoving.
I've run out of fags! Could things really get any worse? Actually they could, got a pain under my armpit!