Me, star of this blog.
I'd like to thank all those below who have made me possible. I suffer from repetitive brain injury but don't let it get me down.
There’ve been good times and bad, I’ve been happy and sad
I’ve been normal and mad, au nouveau and trad
I can never be James Bond; I’m a fish in the wrong pond
So it’s getting unlikely that I’ll patch up my psyche
In my second grave I’ll spin, before I balance Yang and Yin
Thank God Jung and Freud are dead; don’t want them inside my head
But to those who’ve known my history, there’s never been a mystery
We’re all different people under this sun, it's just that I’m from another one
Bud. Father, author and tickler. Little children laugh and point at him.
Jof. Mother, cuddler and launderer.
Cannot help herself.
Nanna. Giggler, northerner and helper.
Not present due to already being dead: Ted. Londoner, bookkeeper and jazz fan.
Hobbits. Short, rural and mad.
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| Wine is cheap when you're only 13 inches high |
And a special hello back in time to Mungo W. Paumier Born Dublin 1797, for whom I am named.
Here are some others who are important to me:
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| POPS |
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| JOHNNY |
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| BOBERT |
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| BEN |
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| BETH |
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| ERIN |
