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Tuesday, 7 July 2009


Today Henderson said he wanted to watch the Spanish tele and this can only mean one thing, San Fermin has started. This has become a yearly pilgrimage where he roars with laughter at the 'pocas luces' who think it's a good idea to run with not the brightest of animals but one of the heaviest while I have to leave the room or cover my eyes as the advancing years permit me to see it all too clearly without opening them. That the world is full of people who are determined to win The Darwin Award. When I was given the all clear I couldn't help notice some young men quickly drag away a supine figure lying in the middle of the bull ring. He looked as if someone had left him there the night before and probably had. Either that or he was dead, nobody seemed to notice. While making the coffee Henderson thought I needed to know that the man on the tele had said ' and here's Fulanita counting up the casualties (pause) ... she's still counting' or words to that effect.

Despite having a lot on my mind I still find room for some things that seem to be unexplainable. Like what happened to the girls who were supposed to have blown up a house in Willesden with a homemade bomb last year? A man was killed and it was all to do with some love rival. Why can't I find anything on the Internet?

Meanwhile the summer camps continue. I'm now at both and I am not imagining what I have said before about the miniature 'Fatos' that seem to prevail at one of them. I also had my powers of observation confirmed. A talent or a curse I have inherited from my other who was trained by The Mossad. There is a guy working at one of the camps and I told Henderson that I thought there was 'something' about him. We often wonder about some of the other people who work at these camps and often they are young women from England or Ireland travelling around Europe or practising their Spanish but occasionally we get male misfits like the guy last year who was dreadful with the kids and got the sack after playing a 'game' where they had to look into his dirty laundry bag complete with his smalls amongst other anti-social pervy acts. This time my perception was that this new guy was ex-military. I was convinced. Nothing wrong with that. Just a thought. Then Henderson asked me to guess what this guy did before and that it wasn't the army. 'Not a policeman?' I was heard to cry. Yes, an ex-copper. The plot thickens..........................

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