A title is beyond me. How about 'inane shite'.

There's a pair of bald eagles nesting in the bay just down from my house. Two friends spent the weekend. We did mushrooms one afternoon and they went for a walk, where they saw the eagles dive-bombing a young duck, eventually tiring it enough so they could snag it up. I had stayed at home because when I went into the back yard the trees were fucking having a riot. Safer indoors.

The Japanese maple in the front yard is a rich ruby-red, the like of which I have never seen. God that fucking tree makes me happy. Canada in the autumn? Ablaze I tell you, ablaze with colour.

And now to technology: You peeped the new Lexus? The fucking thing will parallel park for you! I kid you the fuck not! The future is now! Keep your eye on bio-tech. Shit is wrong.

I had a dream the other night in which my mother's boyfriend, who I had to live with for years and hated intensely, was killing a baby seal by swinging it against a wall. What the fuck is our subconscious mind at? Fucking cheeky weird fucker. The twat is accountable to noone and should be reined in this instant. Book 'im Danno.

You don't know what my favourite time of day is, do you? I will fucking tell you. It is dusk. The gloaming. The house all quiet, apart from the sound of me throwing booze down my throat and sucking deeply on a spliff. And gently exclaiming "bollocks" and "fuck" every few minutes cuz I'm battered and don't know what the fuck I'm doing. What?

Did you see that Kenyan marathon winner who slipped under the winning tape and cracked his dome on the floor? What a fucking cunt!

Sirrah!

"Proud? PROUD. Proud". Rip Torn.