… being a bowdlerized history of my feral infancy.
Calculus is the coolest granddad going. At a tender age i was allowed to take all manner of drugs, including G-Cat!
– Take one, but only if you’re sure that’s what you really want. Wash it down with Karpie’s tea – quickly in one go.
Feigning nonchalance, i followed granddad’s instructions.
i did not have to wait long for the substance to do its sweet strange business. Which lasted three days and two nights or was it two nights and three days? i can never remember.
” Breast milk to sustain before mother ran away. A disciple of Rousseau, she believed i should be brought up chiefly by others, if brought up at all. So, left to my own devices, i chased hens and fell in their dung, got stung by disturbed bees, bitten by angry adders, kicked by wary goats. i was hungry a lot. Miraculously i suffered no serious injury before coming to the château. There, I was dewormed and fattened on yoghurt; life getting much better. Oh how lovely to recapture those times of being barefoot, unwashed and free. To spend whole days constructing sturdy dens or roaming the countryside, with the sun as my chum and compass. Only with the arrival of puberty did life start to go awry for i then developed a rash (goat milk allergy) and unrealistic expectations of sexual fulfillment. Of which more later.”
You will gather that i am something of an experiment in living. Grammar conscious hippies don’t live in the mainstream.