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Hi,

You know I reckon one of my problems is that I definitely had a deprived childhood. I
was fifteen before any man touched me. I know that I was a bit of a late developer, I
didnít need a bra until I was fourteen when there were girls at school like my friend
Molly who I work with at the Ranch,  who could have been a page three model even
at that age. 

Even in the so called undeveloped world girls get married at twelve or thirteen, not
that I want to get married, but you see what I mean, donít you, I was deprived. Mum
did her best, after all she was sixteen when she had me and Lionel came just a couple
of years later. She didnít marry my father because she said he was just a dickhead and
Lionelís dad, well religion was the problem there.

She reckoned that sheíd have to go Kosher and that would mean trips over to
Edgware to buy chickens and stuff and love wasnít strong enough for that. So she
eventually married Mr. Nagel, my teacher at school. It was like Marilyn Monroe and
Arthur Miller all over again except she was no Marilyn Monroe. He ended up
running off with the fifteen year old son of the local vicar and was last heard of living with him on a houseboat in Amsterdam and working in a bar call 'Die Spyker'.

I did go and visit him once and was quite impressed especially when he told me the
bar had a darkroom he uses a lot. Iím pleased heís got a hobby. Sebastian, the Vicarís
son is doing well too working in a place called Boys, Boys, Boys. Itís a kind of club, a
bit like the one his dad ran in the crypt under St. Peterís I expect, all table tennis and
snooker.
Sebastian's father and drinking mate of Father Pat

Mr. Nagel did get arrested once for hi jacking a bus load of Swedish schoolboys out
for a conducted tour of the red light district. He got off though, said heíd been in one
of those cafes and thought it was the number 12 for Leicester Square. The judge said
he had never heard anything so stupid in his life and let him off. I reckon the judge
had been in the same cafe. Sebastian said something about Mr. Nagel using his funny
handshake. Iím not too sure I understand what he means but I can guess.

Three of the boys even wrote to him and said how much they had enjoyed the incident
and were sorry the police broke up the fun. Proves the figure of 10% about right Iíd
say. 

Anyway, I donít think Iím deprived now and as to being married, well I think there
should be less of it then there would be less divorce and that would certainly please
Father Pat. Heís the local Catholic priest, big friend of the vicar, Sebastionís father.
Always in the pub they are, Ďreaching out to ordinary peopleí as they put it. That
father Pat does too much reaching out if you ask me and I stay well out the way when
his hands come in my direction. Lionel, my brother, remember ?. He has more trouble
with the vicar, but even he avoids father Pat when heís on his seventh Guinness.

ĎPint Powerí Shane calls it. Mind you heís into pints as well but it seems to have a
negative effect on him. Perhaps thatís why heís taken up with mum. I suppose she is a
kind of mother figure which appeals after six or seven lagers. I just hope they take
precautions. I donít want Shane and her to propagate. The kids would be my half
brothers or sisters and then when Shane and me finally had our own kids, Shaneís
other kids would be their Aunts and Uncles. It would all get very mixed up. I think Iíd
better get Lionel to have a word with Shane about things.

Lionel's wardrobe, which I happened to open by mistake one day, is full of condoms, stuff called Slippy Slide in what looks like a liquid soap bottle and  big tubs of something called Crisco which I though Americans used for making cakes.  I did ask Trace, my best friend about it, and she told me something I just canít believe but Lionel does have quite long, delicate hands. I did ask him if he ever did any cooking at Winstonís place and he looked at me gone out.

Still if run out of Trex, at least I wonít have to pop out to the shops.


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