Return to Eden

Return to Eden


archive entry: 20th April 2010

Something for the Weak End (sic)

Five day week!

Am esconced in metropolitan office in area of London where naked pigeon is shot as infidel. Forget human rights of naturist!

Sandwiched by 5-6 hours a day coach-commuting in odour-circus of overdressed hydrophobes. "There's a toilet on this bus, but where's the shower? Hmmm ....welcome, passengers!!!." Has recession hit soap industry? Cue pictures of Procter&Gamble CEO in lather over washed-up sale figures.

Tawdry life largely spent staring at bald pate of putrefying tourist seated in front or otherwise sweltering multi-wrapped at PC screen. Find freedom on the Internet. Windows Vista opens your door on a view of the world.

Ah..... just delivered in second post betwixt welter of local telephone reduction offers from Hyderabad and postage-stamp flats in derelict blocks with unlimited planning potential, .....Knightsbridge Property News
    Delightful town residence on offer with stunning vista from front. Spacious forecourt with room for at least one coach parking. Nearby scenic mosque with regular pigeon shoot. Ample wardrobe space for the abundant clothing faddist. All amenities operating, though bath and shower are work in progress. Applicants please apply to H.M.Prison Jobsworth!

SO to the weak end. - (Read as written). Shattered like fallen hourglass.

Am nudist! Just couldn't be bothered to dress. Look in mirror, remove residual coach ticket from hair. Eyes resemble feet of shot pigeon in Knightsbridge!. Otherwise, don't look too bad.

Unexpectedly the sun beams through my window. "No work today, sonny," it says, "Off to the beach, sonny!"

Suddenly scene recharges to Charlie Chaplin speed. Showered! Clothes on quicker than any nudist would ever admit to. Leave house in overt excitement. Leave a further three times, having repaired in turn to replace slippers with shoes, collect wallet and finally to remove inquisitive family pet from yesterday's curry pot.
    Newsflash: Sussex nudist restaurant closed today by health regulator after discovery of pedigree chihuahua in burrito. Owner claims it was Mexican hot dog!
Doesn't bear thinking of!

Make it to beach by 11am.

2-o-clock pm, hazy.

"Bloody freezing isn't it?" declares the windshield to my left.

Look round from fight with local chav herring-gull for remains of packed lunch. Have to make do with half a sandwich plus severed bird's foot.  Remove giant pebble from buttocks (who did that? Dirty devil!) and sit down for beach meal.

"Always the same, Rick," I politely address the windshield. "It is April after all!"

Rick's always here as soon as the sun pokes its tongue out of blue skies. Today; chilly blue skies while blue sea shivers in distance. Why do we never learn blue means cold? ...... just refer to bath taps. For warmth, need red sky and red sea, with optional mixer tap for Scandinavians.

Nudist beach littered with clothed waifs. Even the hardy retain shirt while removing pants.
    Late news item: Following complaints that topless category for males and females is culturally inequitable, Brighton City Council announces new regulations reclassifying late night hotspots as bottomless!
Bottom could fall out of pants industry. Literally!

Get up against wind, bidding anon to one-footed herring-gull. Maybe stork standing on one leg originated when being caught thieving lunch.
    In Iran today, news has filtered through of kleptomaniac Flamingo sentenced to foot amputation for persistent stealing of food from overdressed beachgoers. Defendant's counsel protests identities of prosecution witnesses could not be adequately substantiated just by burkha-ringed eyes. Judge rules eyes sufficient for purposes of parade identification of pesky bird.
Walk down beach to sea. Paddle. Feet numb. Where are feet? Theoretically now have one foot fewer than delinquent seabird. Am now only lifeform in sea apart from other gulls, admittedly also with no visible feet.

Not day for barefoot. Repair to don socks to find one engorged in herring-gulls throat, currently jointly airborne towards Marina. Wave remaining footwear angrily at distant fowl. No takers for flapping sock. What use, what future one sock?
    Couch in hosio-therapist surgery. "Doctor, I am so down at heel, there is no point going on. I feel so futile without my partner. Without him I haven't a leg to stand on!"
Rain starts! Skin waterproof; good! Skin not frostbite-proof though; ...not good! Penance for being nudist; sentenced to naked confinement on British beach. Would rub skin to get warm but goosepimples would bleed.
    Stigmata mystery; frozen statue of nude sacrificial bleeding virgin found abandoned on beach!
That does it! Say bye till next time to, by now, more closely gathered windshield.

Another idyllic nudist escape has hunched back into sombre reality. In truth, am really sentenced to further 5 days torture waiting for next great white hope of naked weak end of recuperation.

Get home in time to be bitten on sockless foot by overseasoned Mexican burrito!

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