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. Have you seen the film Invasion of the Body Snatchers?

I watched the Country & Western Award-Winners’ ceremony yesterday and, you know, I am a fan of Country & Western music, but I am afraid there was very little to set my feet a-tapping. I could not conjure up any enthusiasm for the winners who seemed a bit weird to me. Dolly Parton seemed “all there,” I suppose, but then, you can never really tell, and my TV was not working too good, either.

I had a laugh though in the Hi-Tech Centre last week. This chap in a woman’s summer dress came in. He caught my eye from the back, and I thought, what the hell is this? Then he went onto an apparatus, and I saw the bulge. I said, “good God, no doubt about it.” He might be wearing a woman’s summer dress, but there is absolutely no missing his gender. Danny La Rues, eat your heart out. Then after a fit of a laugh, I realised that I should have said: “Chippendales, eat your heart out.” I did not know quite where to put my face. I certainly could not look in his direction. So, tell me, Mister Know-It-All, why does a man to walk outdoors in a woman’s summer dress?

man in a summer dress

“I’m not ashamed to dress ‘like a woman’ because I don’t think it’s shameful to be a woman.” — Iggy Pop

I knew a bloke once who was a friend of the family. Both families got on very well. I met him first in 1968 in the East End when, during the course of his work as a British Telecom Engineer, he came into my office. Strangely enough, just after my niece-in-law asked Jacqui and me to come and live at her very large home in Forest Hill, she opened the door one day to this same fellow. It was there I discovered he and his wife were old friends of mine from back home, and we became friends.

But he visited my home more often than his wife. The annoying thing about it was that he used to follow me around my house with the front of his trousers in a very strange state. It happened every time he came anywhere near me. He is a pint-sized chap, but a man none-the-less. I supposed I should have been flattered, but it used to make me feel nothing but contempt at the time. It went on like that until 1981. I just couldn’t bring myself to draw it to his attention. But if men get so excited, one can see how easy it is to rape girls and women who expose themselves both in their homes and on the streets.

That’s the reason why I do not dance. In my teens, just before my twentieth birthday, I went to a dance with a man at the school where I was teaching. I did not like the reaction I got from my dancing partner. Now, I cannot just dance with anyone, unless it is one of those dances where I am held at arm’s length. I suppose men these days are made differently.

There was this programme on a “Talk Show” where a woman was trying to get a man who had served time for raping her committed to a longer sentence. It will be a shame if that man is put away for any more time or asked to pay any money for her “pain and suffering.” She had a baby at the time she said she was raped. The baby was very young, yet she was at home in the middle of the day, stark naked lying on her bed, sleeping.

Any woman who has had to look after a baby, a demanding little soul, would know the complications a naked mother would present. Now a thief seeing any open window would, of course, be tempted to go looking for valuables to steal, but a real man seeing a naked woman would have more important thoughts on his mind. He just would not be able to “help” himself. I think that is a contradiction in terms, but you know what I mean, ‘Arry?

When I met Sally last year, she was very alive. Even though a bit panicky sometimes, she loved life, her jewellery, and makeup. She adored dressing up. She did her hair every week and her nails, too. She likes clothes, and she has plenty. She also took great pride in her jewels, although I did not see them because I was not interested. She was a bit bothered, or at least her granddaughter was, about her “jewels,” of course, but they could not possibly have anything that would tempt me.

Anyway, Sally now seems destitute. She talks about not having any money and wanting to live in a home, but not having the cash to pay for it. Yet last year, the granddaughter was writing cheques left, right, and centre. Sally had a business in Chicago, and all the residents of that village in Florida were business people, many of whom were millionaires. Last year, Sally was taking at least six tablets three times per day. Now, she hardly takes any pills at all, and she is no worse than she was then.

I know I do not have to spell it out for you, Jimmy, because you had a little bit of all this in England. Only this is not a welfare state, and the profiteering is on a vast scale. Heaven knows how it will end, but all I can say is God help us all. Sorry to sound so much like the harbinger of doom, but the consequences of it are too terrible to contemplate.

Christ only knows what happened to the chap in the summer dress. I never saw him again after that day. Having problems with the Royal Mail Postal Service. A registered letter cannot get here from the UK, yet an ordinary letter mailed from here the day after got to the UK just fine.

Bye for now.
As ever.

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