KIRKY RANTINGS

In a lunatic sober moment had decided to re-name this blog "BAsker" and, for the subtitle, run some silly puns on Kerkira.

Honestly, the contortions one goes thru for the right name: it needs to be simple and ... well, simple.

Let me try "Corfiesta", enough of a variation on Corcyra's current name for it not to come up on the radar of every Tom, Dick and Heracles.

No doubt it'll change yet again with my dithering, but 'Fiesta will do for now.

Now I'm here, pray Zeus I can box clever and find some adult role (and cash) in this new life here.

Maman Busker not feeling too bright,hence the Greek isle for moi, to cosset and cheer and generally be useful.

Essential I find decent employment before I find myself hitting absoLUTE rock bottom and ending up with gardening tool in hand and seppuku in addled brain.

God, what an insufferable way to go: the definitive final nadir nightmare plummet into futile oblivion.

Better to strap to one the accursed tools of the jardinier trade, slot loser neck into freedom-proffering noose - and swing out for freedom from some friendly cypress.

By Hermes, the more I think on't, the more intolerable this whole planting/hoeing/raking/weeding drudgery treadmill is revealed to be.