January 23rd, 2017


MCR, Real Winter...

Whew, it was so foggy and cold this morning! The air's not good at all, and I took yet another day off working in the park. I'm feeling a bit crook, too; coughing and shivering and achy. Meh.
I'm really pissed off with Southern Rail, too. After having to shell out 12.50 or something to get from East Croydon to Bumcrack, on the way home, there was no one at the station, so I thought I might get away with using just my Freedom Pass.
No, a ticket collector went around, and he asked for a fiver or so to get to Gatwick, but said that if I changed trains, I could get from there to Clapham Junction with my pass. NO! I ended up paying nearly £13 again. all in all, and with all the hassle, added 20 minutes or so to my journey. Bastards. Boy, it doesn't  seem long ago that London to Brighton was a fiver. Fap.
Moto and Chris did a great job hosting the MCR again. I completely fucked up the few pages I did; kept making stupid mistakes, etc., due to poor concentration. It was nice to see everyone again, though, and they were so nice to me, despite my cringing and whining with the birthday terrors. I'm 70 now. Fucking 70. Just heard the ALLO,'ALLO star died, and he was only 75.Wibble.
I didn't have the strength today, to try and find a hoover-fixing place, or take my phone to be sorted out. I really need to, though, the dust and cat hair is already giving me gyp, and it was bloody scary to be stuck  incommudicadp outside of Bumcrack, not knowing Moto's address. Thank Christ for the nice people in the Chinese takeaway, who let me use their phone.
Well, thanks again to Moto, who really shouldn't have taken it on, worn out as she is with all the PHD stuff, work angst, and Brexit shit. Well done.

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