I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes.
I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over.
I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong.
And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions.
I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely.
It's what we do.
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
None Shall Pass!
The revolution has started. On sunday, I was confronted by the Che Guevara of sheep, was turned back at the border, by a fleecy militia.
Tomorrow they march, they will be unstoppable. (Unless surrounded by roast potatoes and mint-sauce).