Here we go!

It's monday morning in Runcorn. I can see a spot of blue sky from only one window in the house. It's a strange phenomenon when blue happens to the sky. Most times it wears gray. However, gray and clouds keep the temperatures up and I like that.

I suffered from severe jet leg. I even vomited the night I got in. I vomited a lot. All red, the colour of wine with small bits in it. Geraud struggled to identify everything until he recalled the chocolate I had eaten. I'd say the cheese was particularly pungent.

Then my nose started leaking. Big time. Goop everywhere. So I stick small soft papers in it. Wipe, blow, wipe, shake. The ritual of a leaking nose. It's especially fun in groups.

I take the train to Liverpool the days when I go, which will be many just not today. It takes twenty minutes and has either one or no stops. It's so much faster and cleaner than the RER. I was prepared for a shoving contest of smelly alcoholics the first day. I'd say I've still got wiggle skillz from my days in Paris. But NO, this train is clean. It is a proper train. With tables. It just costs more than three beers.

I'm waiting for all my monies to arrive. They aren't really mine but you know, borrowing money keeps the economy going. Right?

Oh, sometimes I touch my hairs in my head and I feel this coarseness sticking out. So I do what I do and pull the sucker out. Then I look at the hair and wonder, "this looks and feels like a pube."
How do I have a pubic head?