Angelsstandcorrected

It’s full moon and my chest is full of phlegm and pain. Not unsually there are a variety of waiflings lurking around needing food or advice or some such thing. I like it, but I am not on form and the cat gets the legal document and the singer gets a bowl of cat food – maybe thats actually the right way round. The other week I met these West Papuans they live in Oxford as exiles – I found out a whole lot of stuff about West Papua and the tyranny that goes on there. Puts a good perspective on your own indulgence when you hear about people having their relatives beaten to death in front of them and such like. I am still furiously entering the last freak show into film festivals in the hope that “that person” will see the film and take it to the people. I have just been waiting for a french girl to buy cigarettes in Brixton and now she’s inviting us to a gay party in London and the cat’s invited as well. So we are putting some more coal in the car and chugging to an inconsequential doom…