There have been few reasons for me to think about my “Bully Boss” in recent years, but the Jeffrey Express bus had the sort of heating on yesterday that I first experienced at Swimer House in 1986. I have suffered it several times since, too, including in this very hotel room.
Nothing is sacred, as you know, my dear Jimmy. So, please read between the lines. I mentioned last time about the several thousand passengers who have disappeared in one area of the United States alone. I began to think about these areas like Florida, and my overactive mind started working overtime.
They call us “The Windrush Generation,” but I never came to England on any banana boat. I flew in from Kingston to London on a TWIA flight and was there in under 12-hours from door-to-door. I had no desire whatsoever to be cooped up onboard a ship at sea with all and sundry for weeks on end.
My dear Jimmy, I have a moment at 2:45 pm and I am writing before my programme starts. Just came back from lunch. Had so much meat, the restaurant must have killed a whole lamb and a calf, too. Ate as much as I could and brought back some for the DOG. Now, who or what is that?