I have purchased the domain psychedelicwizard.org. It will not appear in the address bar unless I pay for a premium plan, which is £15 per month. I am considering it, but I think getting the domain was a good move, as the .uk and .co.uk versions had already been taken, which I found quite frustrating. But usually I am laid back and relaxed with no tensions.

How are you this evening? I managed to watch Thunderball, one of the better James Bond movies. Sean Connery era really was great and the movies still stand up. I don’t know how to feel about the last James Bond, No Time To Die, other than the ending left me not-very-happy with the studios and writers. By now, the movies are literally big adverts and nothing more, which is a shame. As back in the 60s, the movies rocked. They rocked right until 2006 Casino Royal, and 2012 Skyfall. The only 2 decent movies from Daniel Craig which I honestly enjoyed. Let’s move on before I get a throbbing, raging ego of things-to-say.

Loving me, loving you. Following the most over rated theme of all time, love, which is dangerous and annoying. Why is love this sacred revered sanctimonious load? It hurts and kills people, makes people go crazy, hurt themselves, to act weird and spend money on useless junk that neither of the couple will keep, unless in a long term relationship. Why are people bending over backwards, working out 7 days a week, wearing tight woman pants doing yoga in the hope their fit bodies attracts someone for what… love? Listen up kids it’s about to get real, love is a lie and it is a waste of time, try and put more effort into eating healthy and enjoying life. It will save you the heart ache which will be a complete waste of time. Unless it works out, which might be because you didn’t focus on love, but the relationship.

Today’s poem is called: Love is the not love

Love the burning ashes on your skin

black clouds that form across white wash water

a dim candle blown out in the wind

slap across the face, is love in action

or the inaction of inedible bodily flesh permeating

lackluster romance nonsense in the rim of your jar of jam

no love on my plate

so you sit and stare, hand me a cold tea