cont.bc1qs2jqynlpytqhza7ztyc8xtps30e52apyysga84
abass mohammed@mohammedabass484730
28 days ago
It Once belonged to a Canadian lumberjack who had a sweat or, more politely, a perspiration problem, at least so my mother maintains. The smell doesn't bother me as I am used to it, although other people have complained. Under the shirt I wear an 'I love Cliff Richard ' T-shirt. A reminder of when I was young and stupid. I 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 unbutton the Canadian shirt. My legs are clad in a pair of executive striped trouser bought at the closing down sale at Woolworths. On my feet are designer training shoes given to me by my friend Nigel. Poor Nigel suffers from an obsession; he compulsively buys training shoes. The reasons are manifold:
a: He has to be the first in our small town to have the latest style.
b:Because of his inner rage Nigel is always yanking On laces too hard so that they break. He then passes the shoes on to me, claiming he can't be bothered to re-thread the new laces.
My own improverished family benefit from Nigel's impetuousness. We are all walking around in Nigel's new old shoes. Even Grandma is wearing a pair.
They are too big for her but, with the wisdom of the old, she found a way of making them fit by stuffing the toes with toilet paper.
Under my training shoes I am wearing a pair of odd socks. One sock is white, one sock is black. No think not that I am an absent-minded genius who doesn't notice what he puts on his feet. Perhaps I am a genius, but not an absent-minded one. No, my choice of hosiery is completely calculated. Indeed it is symbolic. The white socks stands for my inner purity and morality: for I am against violence and polaris missile and cruelty to battery hens.The black sock stands for the evil in my soul, such as wanting to go the whole hog with pandora and fantasising about blowing up tower blocks (minus suicidal tenants of course). Thus I am a walking dichotomy. On my feet I carry the problems of the world.
to be continued.
