When times are hard it's easy to forget that there are genuinely good people in this world.
I'd like to present my friend Arseface:
Arseface isn't his real name. In fact I don't know what his real name is. He's a real nature boy- really at home in the fields and hedgerows of the Towy Valley.
I often meet Arseface when I'm birdwatching down by the river- a man of simple means and wisdom, in tune with the great outdoors and the subtle changes of the seasons, even though he's usually absolutely smashed.
I've spent many a happy hour listening to his anecdotes, sitting by his fire as he roasts a freshly caught cygnet.
I often meet Arseface when I'm birdwatching down by the river- a man of simple means and wisdom, in tune with the great outdoors and the subtle changes of the seasons, even though he's usually absolutely smashed.
I've spent many a happy hour listening to his anecdotes, sitting by his fire as he roasts a freshly caught cygnet.
As Henry David Thoreau wrote: That man is rich whose pleasures are the cheapest.
I hope to be well enough to venture out again tomorrow...
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