One of the knights, who guards the lawn of Charles, one trys to find.
Charles, the king, ‘scribes 'wher?....... out’ , where? out off the edge of our maps. One side of church made the maps the low crusaders, the opposers of high, Big Cathedrals, and Big Monasties. The fabulous wealth of money-centric economies doesn't belong to parliamentit belongs to roundhead and cavalier, the compos-mentos crusaders, monastries wanted peace, cathedrals superiority, the king majesty. Thomas Moore didn't contol them, and they all wanted the knights, in away those who rode the streets of Cambridge, a sovereign for a info on Zanzibu, and unkingly thoughts, evidence from the burgening trough of Holy war maps is a bit small, as thier held if we're led to believe by Yeomen (the low secret service), and not by Knight commanders, the intelligence service.
Would not surprize. I'm a bit of a church, intelligence, knight, who has commanded humps, I usually pick up flags, and spend time aqcuiring things, and then follow, where they've been commanded, and wait at endless locked doors. As a mark of an unusual world, the Germans get our old maps, papished, away to the Vatican, dusty documents Dept. Saucy youth, our claims yeomen’.
Imagine if you can, I am the younger, half brother of Lady Hayrydge, it is the 15th century. I could grow up on the coast near Hastings, feed big horses, long flowing white hair.
Well, I'll paint the brighter picture instead, of an old yellow stone building, in the North of England, just down the Hill from a hospitaller, church. I'd be picking the old hairy wattle out of the wall straps thinking these aren't going to last us to the floor.
In leathen hooded coat, looking out of a sunny window, when I have a cloudy revalation, Tony Slattery walks through the window.
Suppose, titchy castle, walls that haven't seen anybody tortured in them for a long while, a plague sight, flying cows, and huge black rats who appear scuttling along my roof, eating holes in my outer coat pockets, reading a book. Its unsurprising cause it might be happening just outside my window,
My giant fingers on, or my black gloved fingers sweep, (ambidextrous), on giant maps, of the terrain. If I'm looking at Stephen Fry just over there, Tonys old friend, incharge of block chucking, war-machines, I and the Welsh, 'don't like them, because they disappear fastly of our old maps. I in charge of an army not perhaps of nice fine men, which I would be. I might like throwing the occasional mangonel arrow over the ranks of the nearby French. (v.Hastings), rats carrying battle of into faraway cracks in cliffs. A battle for many centurys won not by a wall of armed soldiers, riding into flights of saracen arrows, by slow moving columns trailing up the hill, as we know on very small, hoofed paths, hufflepuffs with out-riders, and quick attack.
The ancient rickety walls of a plague castle, Nicky Henson, we see him walking accross a darkened room, followed by knight Gryff Rhys Jones., Gryff and Nicky stuck looking out of the small window, for a summer season, in the village Mel Smith arrives, smells, a rat, and under the intense bright light peers in. I'm Nick in intelligence, I'd like to attract Alan Davies.
Where is Lady Hayrydge 'today, Knight commander'. 'Carrole BAILIT' IS THE returned french expression. We carry on looking out of the same window, and Tony slattery, who is really turning round in the capatious car park of the Red lion. Points vaguley east.
Anna Ryders stealing the high ground to ride of to the villages. Accross the plane, where the Welsh 'Llewlyns' have all the Hay. The English need people who have charisma against the French, Nicky and Hattie (Charlamagnes), who carries a sword, god that pulls, who rallies like a dynamite, maybe the nose of St Joan, 'her goofy looks'. its perfect
'Now the light flickers, and looking along the harbour 'nice Arse for pulling Lady Hayridge', Nicky looks on, 'you could lead an army with that, that white mane on a horse', as she watch she plucks, uoffle puffs from the street, one of the few people, who can do that, I can, but she just clicks, her horse clips, at a Princely Charles pace in huffle-puff time, ours clop, 'SEIGE', and our bullit scout Annabel croft, 'I all join Lady Hayrydge', and snorts, 'Schama!',
Stephen Fry 'its not a bit high for the church, pointing at my office above the door. I tended to have it on a pole outside, it lends itself 'the holyland path to mischief'.
Nicky 'the Italian court', the Welsh 'to far', of the beaten.
Pulling men into boats 'are you going with Lady Hayrydge'. Do they return yes, do mine they have a tendency to leave. Maybe someday, the uffle puffs will carry 'the cannon', but they'll burst onto the field, big horsey hoov Lady Hayrydge behind the lead. Even though, I employ, uffle puffs, und have vast intelligence, we just want to pin the saracens up the valley, just before we move on, so like a bunch of American Indians the huffle puffs swarm over the war machines, on the hills, in the valleys, saracens....
...On the wall, I look up Robbie Robson, Hatties old employer..as I caught him face in the water on the field.....whose this?.....',Gary Linekar with wings (white),and underneath a black coat?, I remember his last words to me,'' 'oh your good....'...briskly swing the wall, round, and on the other side David Gower....step,..step.., .., step,. Garfield Sobers..tink,tinktink, down a step ,down a step Trevor Mc DonALd,,,.. Davinia.. and out onto the terrace..,,My intelligence quarter, white lines running down the hill,,...Campus smoothies.,,.. Street...trend setters..,,... .,. ...,,,..... 'Hotsputs',,, Mrs Hayridge?,,,...
Blog 10th of September..He will be reborn again, as we may of been... and Carol captures Lady Hayrydge exactly, close relatives, Steven Fry, Rob Llewelyn people who were our friends and pesumabli on the field...a lkely romatic field,...becomes as one a legal voice..unless descendats?!!!!..who may be found, swinging from windmills, playing table tennis with two bats,.to help society!!!???,,.??!!,,?!?..,,who could possibly do the job one could.
With a little help from Paulines pens,
Carol Baileys resemabalance to Lady Hayrydge
Goofy psicotic German charmer possibly jumped out of a plane. 1-50.
It would be better to think she had always been there.
Sword (Physique)1-6
Huffle puff esp. north less parliamentry, horse gate, 1 - 1,000,0000 walking on high heels
Joan of Arc nose 1 - 1000
Fine Arse 1 - 5000
1,500,000,000,000,000 - 1
white hair, rallys like a dynamite, charisma, English, horsey, hastings.
Liklihood I'm her brother
Bailey - Hognathan (very Welsh)
Hufflepuffs
Rounders bat fore-arms
Shoulders
Clint Eastwood arse, as Nicky had in youth. (young Women)~
Being identical
Knight madrigal
prob 1,500,000,000,000,000 - 1
writing this blog
Nina, Anna, Kerry, Nicky.....Sheila etc.
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