Induction

I..er ....me...the gritest felsofer on the globe holding biographies of Plato, Einstein and honorable Bin Laden to my bosom...of the name Easton West or was it Weston East...have no grudge against my parents but the name they have given me hangs heavy on my ghastly memory...still I try to walk straight no matter how often I have to shoot to my psychiaterrorist...quite a passionless chappie...has funny names for my annoying troubles which developed when I had taken a shot at trigonometry during my school days...

that leads us to my youth...ah! blind youth...fathomless energy...knowing no outlet... I set up a vegetable biz under the flagship Onion Yard, mind you the trademark files are biting dust with the patent attorneys for the beastly fellers are reeking with greed...I miss the sissy Tomato Ward which couldn't be launched either......
Of now I teach rather preach love peace ho! liberty...er... where was I...I mean life, career, yoga, scrap, adultery....every thing...for steady stream of honorarium I run a secondhand bookstall in the corner of my garage...
Long and short of my felsofy is that I have borrowed my cut from Aristo Onnasis, who has said : qualification nil, work any equally impressionable is Oscar Wilde for his brainy words :
my choice is very simple, I want the best....I want the best..my blogging or my bleed is in full swing though this jamming busybody which you love to call SpelCheck keep pulling my leg all the time...yet the blogger fellows would behave like misers I had no idea... they shut their door on my face for space corking me to see the other way...er .. technno part is burdensome and the fine print of shortcuts makes sense under a magnifying glass only...er...I was telling you of my bookstall..visit some day... you would like to read the juicy covers...Wind Instruments...After Corned Beef and Cabbage...and Mosquito Bites..