Wica Basket Case

Huzzah tis the return of the FreeBeard, of course none of you actually noticed that due to DirectHex’s inept management of my word docs I have been missing from the internet for a while.

But as you know the FB’s life creeps along at this petty pace – how petty, let’s say its as petty as shoe tossing in the Man U changing rooms. Not quite as pointless as the Royal Family but sailing pretty close to that wind.

The major event in the FB’s life moving house. Or , ehem, moving out from Mum’s house. Although not as radical as the other hemisphere as our old friend Dx has managed but let’s say to a major metropolis a few hours car ride from the Mum – which could be many continents as well as Mum is concerned considering my little Fiats’ front wheels are tickling the ground. This is despite the two Van loads of gear that I shoveled into my one bedroom studio over the week. Of course Dx is prolly sniggering considering most of the gear is his and it makes ominous bleeping noises when you turn it one.

I have pointed out to mum that I've been to University in London, and I did live on my own but it doesn’t seem to register. She just points to the fact I picked up Dx as a friend and things have been looking dark ever since.

....Anyhow having negotiated the mean Motorways of the UK, gained three points on my license by a Cop in hysterics about the fact my Bluetooth earpiece had run out of charge cos of mum’s tracking phone calls, I finally moved into my new pad.

I have a problem though. I think the neighbour likes me. No, I’m serious. She keeps inviting herself round for coffee. When she introduced herself it was accompanied with a quick waft of her hair which left her perfume trickling on the cold night air. Certainly got my attention, and knocked out the cat sitting on the wall behind me. So, the FB has a bit of a problem, seen as the nieghbour wants to get hot and sweaty with the FB – no you muppets – she wants to go to the gym with the FB. Put the bench pressing jokes away you morons. Jeez, talk about having your mind in the gutter. I must say she is quite pleasant to look at. However, will my over-active imagination survive the exposure to a sweaty nieghbour? One doesn’t know.

It is interesting though that the woman is into Wicker , which I thought was a bit strange considering that the only thing Wicker i had been exposed to was the mums multicoloured roti holder and my uncles really classy wicker chair backs for his new S-class merc. It turns out that this is not the wonderful art of straw fiddling but the full on Buffy-esque art of Wica.

All sounds abit pointy horned to me - you know - pentagrams and stuff. but I'm sure when she was exposed to the full glory of the FB’s fat rolls she's going to summon the daemons of acacia avenue to banish me into the netherworld - or move house.

Stakes at the ready.