The mother outlaw's house us in a Maori area, where most people are built like tanks, and I don't think they had seen a jogging skeleton before. There's a drug dealer's house next door, which some people might find handy for Christmas presents.
This morning I feel as if I've run a marathon. Jogging must take a different kind of fitness from long walks.
The outlaws are quietly churchy and not very material, so in the spirit of anti-consumerism, I wondered what roadside junk I could make into presents.
I found some colourful gifts for a one-legged new mother.
Safety knife.
Organic clothes brush.
For Albert's stocking
I say!
ReplyDeleteA lot of thought has gone into your post, and before drunken people intercept it, I would just like to say how much I enjoyed the potty snap.
MM III
I say!
ReplyDeleteI wish they all could be New Caledonia Girls.
MM III
Jogging is bad for human beings. We aren't designed for that motion. Walking yes, flat running when we have to. But the bounce of jogging is too hard on joints.
ReplyDeleteInteresting the things that get abandoned in this world.
Albert? Fancy you running about the place! I would like to see that! Get someone to video you! Hotboy
ReplyDeleteMingers. Those lassies are playing concert ukes, larger than the normal soprano.
ReplyDeleteNanners. You're right I think. Emulating the other folk who visit here is always asking for trouble.
Hotters. I will, when you post a video of yourself operating the new camera.
Albert? Well done for mixing with the poor people!! You won't be in hell and not know anyone then! Hotboy
ReplyDelete