I felt ten or twelve fingers on the triggers …

but it was probably eight.

I prepared a bucket of hydroponic nutrient in my kitchen sink. This was five or six or seven years ago when there was all that liquid explosive bullshit especially for me (and the associated 7/7 bullshit).

I took the bucket down my stairs and opened the front door. I had a pot of runner beans immediately next to my front door. I fed the runner beans the nutrient solution that I had prepared for them. That’s when I felt all those fingers easing off their triggers.

I felt it believe me.

As I have said previously, I will defend myself.

edit: This is the point ~ because I am an independent thinker and researcher who has reached conclusions totally opposite to the official narrative, etc I have been cast as a terrorist.

Further edit: It pisses me off so much. It has been made blatantly obvious to me – by local police – that I am considered a potential terrorist of the sort that can be simply be executed… (do some research Jean Charles de Menezes & Bristol)

As I have said previously, I will defend myself.

edit: This is the point ~ because I am an independent thinker and researcher who has reached conclusions totally opposite to the official narrative, etc I have been cast as a terrorist.

Further edit: It pisses me off so much. It has been made blatantly obvious to me – by local police – that I am considered a potential terrorist of the sort that can be simply be executed… (do some research Jean Charles de Menezes & Bristol)

I don’t like spooks f’ing about in my garden.

edit: at the very least they could not make it blatantly obvious.

yet another edit: lucky for you there were no bees in them. Try the other one ;)

9 Feb 2012 edit: I am not concerned at appearing paranoid ~ the paranoid perspective has proved very enlightening and productive && I am simultaneously able to do other perspectives. I do have reason to believe that it was spooks rather than casual scum.

I apologise that I was overwhelmed a few years ago.

Anyway, a sort-of parti at the repeatedly most popular pub. It’s not really a parti because really we just go there on Saturday afternoon and enjoy.

At the risk of being called one of those socialists I will start with Champagne (and ridiculously cheap Caviar from a discount supermarket). It’s only once a year after all.

Anyway you’re all welcome to join me on Saturday ;) Music starts at 3.