I look like a king today.
It's always said around mental health services that you know when a man is becoming ill again when he stops shaving.
Of course it's rubbish or Brian Blessed would be....oh hang on, I'll start again.
Of course it's rubbish or Fidel Castro would be.....oh make your own mind up.
Well really they don't count as they probably both take some kind of care of their beards as I should be taking care of mine instead of doing this. It's a bit grey but it is a good beard and when I take my joke glasses off I look like the king I undoubtedly am. I'm descended from the hammer-of-the-scots himself and have a more solid claim to the throne than those Hanoverian pretenders. Of course it's pretty much an irrelevance as I am in my heart a republican. However if the country needs again the determined leadership of an absolute monarch in some time of great peril I would consider temporaily putting aside those qualms and take the crown as the new Arthur. Obviously I couldn't be King Koosie or that other name.
Or I might just shave this thing off tomorrow. It is getting itchy.
I thought about The Velveteen Rabbit today. It was because of escape pod funnily enough. The story was called Skinhorse goes to Mars and I'm still not convinced theres not a connection. Yes. No.
If I feel like a King it's Alfred. Some woman's shouting about burning some cakes and I'm thinking "Some fucking king. Can't even toast my own rubbish dinner, hiding in this shithole marsh while my enemies rampage my kingdom. "
But then I look at my kingly beard in a muddy stream and think:
" Well what the fuck do I know about toasting cakes. I'm a king for fucksake. Yeh. I'm the King. Look at this beard. I AM YOUR KING! "
Yeh. Bit of history there. Alfred the Great to you mate. He turned it around. So will I. I am your king. On your knees!
Aw, You are so pretty when you're on your knees.
