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Postscriptum

Postscriptum

My card was declined in Morrison’s today, for just £11-worth of groceries.

I have finally run out of money, three weeks short of my 65th birthday. There is no more work guaranteed until January. Last night, the man who was going to give me £600 for my car texted to say he’d found a better one.

If you value your occasional visits to this, muh li’l bogl, please, would you make a donation? I have been a writer for 45 years, believe me, it’s never been this bad.

– Uncle Bogler

Post-postscriptum

Odd place, the Universe. The discarnate entities do sometimes try to help. This morning I get one of those letters out of the bue, telling me that Zurich Life is hoping I am the former policyholder they are trying to trace, as they still owe me £214. 56p. Okay, it’s not a ‘dead rich uncle in South Africa’ letter, they’re going to deduct tax, but it’s something, no?

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