Rose Croft, Brentwood - Wit Sunday, 28th May 1972

Dear C. Gosh! What's happenin' ? Me writings growing hairs! Must be this nasty smelly damp paper ripped from a silly ol' book I rescued down the rainy pit today! I'll get the "black plague" if I go there too often I'm sure! I should burn it after you've handled it if I were you! ( you probably burn 'em anyway!) Wash your hands thoroughly using a fresh newt. More junk from the front step, to join the dolls head, old bottles, stones, marbles and books is a lovely big attache case full of picture frames, ping pong bats, ping pong net holder, pin pong wall plaque and ping pong table lamp. Your writing is getting worse! Is it in code? What horrible weather! The following wit day. Sacre plonk! Ken the greasy shop keeper has diddled me again! I'll think I'll feather me nest with a couple of heggs! A song for Celia to sing ( pointy arrow ) O I do like to be beside the P side, O I do like to be beside the P........etc. etc.... Ugh! That's too much like the original to be any good, perhaps you can suggest better words? Go on! I bet you can't! I had a horrible dream last night. These ruffians were after me with big knives!! Argh! TUESDAY. Sun, rain, rain sun, rain! I wish it would make up it's mind! Walking from Brentwood this morning I got wringing wet and dried again in 15 minutes! Now all my clothes have shrunk! There's a Hoxfam shop opened in town again, but nothing much in it. There's a copy of that funny record that Clare played at her party " Dandy Company Children's Party Fun" . Was that it? I might get it if it's still there on Friday. My nasturtiams are growing really tall, like palm trees! But they lean drunkenly forwards in the sun, so I have to turn them bowing inwards. The cats have dug most of my radishes up! I don't care, I'm not particularly fond of them anyway. I don't think my fingers are green enough for a Percy Sowerbutts! Ed has hidden his razor so I am forced to grow my beard again! LATER THAT EVENING.... Down in the dump again! To find a portable Remmington tripe writer, needs cleaning and oiling but should work OK. Lucky Ed found an old Muffin-the-Mule puppet there which I had carelessly overlooked, I could have kicked myself but I kicked ED instead. Bill got loads of useless junk as usual, 6 horrible roundabout washing line monsters and 3 car washers, a tele ( they are trying to make it go at this moment - fat chance!) NEXT DAY. Tired of looking heavenward for miraculous falling manna, meat pies and pennies on the eyes ( romantic death urge) I searched every crook and nanny for lemonade bottles that were returnable for deposit. I found 4 ! Oh joy! At last we could eat! Cycling madly chinking all bottled up to Ken's Ducky Stores to mess his counter with dirty 'ol glass containers all cobwebby and full of turps, meths and what looked like treacle! "Anything else sir?" he feebly enquired. Snatching the 10p from my grubby paw I grunted that I didn't and leaped thru' the door, over and old lady, and onto my trusty Raleigh Speedette! "Hi ho Saliva!" Last night Bynne , Lill and I went to Gordon Bleau's to drink his home made double strength ale and listen to his funny musac after we'd finished laughing at "Star Tek" ! Did you see that one? With Spock's Mum and Dad?! What a joke ho ho! Old Gord does go on a bit about the technicalities of life , and likes to explain to a dumbfounded audience the ins and outs of Spocks ears, Soofyism, Harry Corbetism and Stravinsky etc. But like old Bobby Brainbatter he's a good egg really! When he'd got us blotto on two pints of his deadly brew ( Bill thought it tasted like vindegar at first, but after while he grew to like it. Glub! glug! ) he persuded us to come along and join his jazz group at some pub somewhere and play free form bop til the cows come home ( and they usually do!) Bill's gonna play his alto saxophone and I'm gonna tinkle the old autoharp ( Blink1 blonk!) ? I don't eben know what an autoharp is? P.S. The chap over de rode is doing one of his famous smoke screen again in the vain hope to hide the vile bodies of Lynne's kid brother and partners in grime who have just swaggered down the road to beat up some old lady. They are camping it up down the end of the garden! Great Fiord only knows what they get up to down there! ( "down there" get it?) I still feel a bit queer after last night, woops! Now me suspenders broken! Have you seen that big Marx Bros. book that's just come out? It's got all their best bists in it with frame by frame shots and humourous dialogue! Chuckle! See you soon, ever yours Horace B. Bicycleclip.