As all things deem to escalate in the causality curve, this year is undoubtedly the epitome. Since Fasching the Corona virus has taken the gusto out of everything, thanks to the elitist plonkers and their holidays in Bergamo and the Italian Alps ski resorts. I’ve been trying to make ends meet by working for the neighbourhood help services until all the bus service in my locale got canned. Thankfully, some nice ladies took pity on me and gave me a fabulous bicycle to do my rounds, which is certainly improving my health. Fortunately our little municipality has been kept clear of this disease, but people are shit scared. Nobody wants to deliver groceries to the needy. At least little shops and the border is opening up again to the Alsace, but us locals are leery just the same, thanks to some fools who took part in some big evangelical gathering in Mulhouse without the necessary precautions.
Susan’s slow suicide through alcohol and pills had finally landed her in the funeral home while her pet peeve is making arrangements for marriage with his overweening island queen coming November. At least Wolfgang has finally decided to sell the lot so we can find some peace of mind. The question is, just how long can I endure this circus before I jump this sinking delusional ship in a rage. Still, I hope it all goes so far away that I can’t even hear the screams.
