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So let's get on with it. We must put the case for Brexit anew. We must take nothing for granted. It doesn't matter what we do with the money. We can put it in the NHS or buy pink elephants with it. The point is it's hard working British peoples' money and it should be spent on them. The EU is not democratic. The people who run it are oligarchical despots - and not benevolent ones either. Paying all this money for "free trade" - what a contradiction in terms! And who benefits? Not the ordinary people who stump up the cash! And why, for this "free trade" do we have to let Brussels/ Strasbourg (EU have two Parliaments) make 59% of our laws? How does that work? Well, it doesn't. We only rubber stamp their commands in our Parliament. We are vassals and our Parliament is a puppet EU...
Ch.3 KERSHAW'S CHICKS The next few days were exciting and stimulating beyond anything Jeremy had ever experienced before in his young life. Unbelievably, incredibly, he, Jeremy Armstrong, rumored stay-at-home-Pansy, was learning to fly. Haltingly at first, with many surprises, and much bemused wondering why it was that on occasions the R.E.8 - nicknamed Mathilda - would...
Ch.2 BUTTERFLIES He gazed in awe at the flying machine they called an 'RE8', and wondered how he could ever hope to learn to fly. Butterflies roamed around his stomach, and a vague dizziness refused to go away. Their instructor, Captain Kershaw, was droning on at great length, but Jeremy was hardly listening. He was standing to attention amongst a dozen or so...
Ch.5 THE RECEPTION His driver pulled up outside a long, low building, and informed Jeremy his bags would be taken care of. Jeremy thanked him excessively, without realizing it. He was as yet unused to the quiet arrogance of the officer class towards the lower ranks. Behind his back, the soldier's lip curled in contempt as he picked up Jeremy's...
I am an honest love of music. I am captured in waves of rhythm and vocals, strained in tightly woven designs with emotions tracing through in the invisible frequency connecting note to note. I wish you were here to share this with me. I lose myself in pulsing beats and sighing words. Decrescendo of the soul. Power chords raise spirits to heights avoided in everyday life....
These memories demand I halt. They scream at me, and my blank face burns at the steam pouring from their open mouths. What do you want from me? They are cold and silent now, like the unfathomed reaches of space. They slowly raise and point fingers at me, in mute accusation, calling up this Lethe. Icy waters rush with sadistic force into my mind. So cold it cuts....
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I'm real relieved that "Moggy's Tuna Manual" is finally published, and here is the link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/588931 Unlike the other series, "Blip on the Radar" and...
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