I Marseille, Its a wonderful Place

It turns out Agnes knows a guy called Mickey who lives in Marseilles and yeterday we paid him a visit in is little house out somewhere away from the old town in a kind of rough suburb. He is a greying tanned hard looking man with a rascal smile and a smokers voice. He was very pleased to see Agnes and they seemed to talk about money and blokes in London a lot. Then we went to a local bar and he splashed some cash around and we got merry and then spilled out about 8pm and went for a Moroccan Cous Cous. He was faily well spannered by the time we got him home asnd Agnes was a bit worried about him - she used to live with him in London about 20 years ago and she still keeps an eye on his health. I asked her what he did in Marseilles and she just said keeps his head down and minds his own business which is what I should do if I still wanted the comfort of a fine lady and my head on my neck. Nice.

We thn go a ca back to the Hotel and drank heavily in the bar.

I woke up this morning with a regal thumoing headache and snot and saliva on my face. I washed and then realised there was mud all over the flannel. Not sure where that came from. I spent half an hour tring to find a sock and Ages got angry and stormed down to Breakfast without me. I felt sick in the lift, but managed to wolf down a full breakfast of eggs and creal and toast with 3 cups of coffee and an orange juice. I filled myself up and became unsteady on my feet so headed back to the room - I read the Herald Tribune and about a place in Colorado called Telluride - a mountain resort — "charming wood-frame houses selling for $2 million and up, a little airstrip where the rich can fly in on their Gulfstreams or Falcon jets, the many residents whose lives consist largely of skiing in the winter, tennis in the summer and chartering yachts in the Caribbean in the spring and fall" and drifted into a fantasy about mega money - big sacks of cash, large bank accounts would preferable all in my name - with transfers happening with 8 zeros and nothing much to do other than party, ski and grab a bite to eat. I felt more sick.
Sleep intervened and I dreamt of Limbo - floating in an eternal jelly - Lime flavoured Jelly with a baby face and old skin.
Agnes woke me up and we have done a crossword - she really has taken a bit of a shine to me - where is this all going to end ?