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...happy holly-day greetings from the winter wonderland of 'Buddhapest'? - a destination promising some much needed spiritual nourishment. Or so I'd imagined. (Seems I'm still a martyr to my spelling issues.) Still, as nourishment goes, a ridiculously unbalanced and unvaried diet of goulash soup and mulled wine more than compensates - pretty good comfort food it is, too, to help overcome the embarrassment of the never-to-be-mentioned-again scam (see Dec 16 blog) - all the while happily(?) ensconced in a crumbling Soviet-style apartment in a crumbling Soviet-style apartment block together with a job lot from central casting including a Hungarian detective, a 'communications student' (he did explain - and very generously, too, over a bottle of wine - but I'm none the wiser) and a lesser-spotted French-Canadian wastrel. Lenhossék utca is where you'll find us - slightly to the left of the middle of nowhere. Does life get any better? (Jesus, I bloody hope so). Especially after that never-to-be-mentioned-again you know what.
Oh, happy daze...
Who doesn't like a 3-liner? (Quite a few of you don't, apparently.) Well, I'll have you know that many a critic has said of my work "at least it's in English" - and as for the great Stephen Fry, he once said of me "Vincent who?" Let's just say I supply the litter to the litterati [sic - but only at times] - ie: I write rubbish. But rubbish mostly inspired by the HAIKU, the 17th Century Japanese verse form consisting of 3 lines and 17 (5-7-5) syllables. (WARNING: flash photography and limericks)
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