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I work for Not. As good a motivation as any. But I am a limited player. How many nots are there ? The knotted rope climb, always gets you in the crotch. Personally I did not find it pleasant. Perhaps I didn't have the right attitude. I was not a high-attitude guy.
What-not was what-for. And what-for was for-what-was-not. Not in any-way shape or form. Course it was castles in the sky. It was ghost-enemy created in the looney-bin buttress-works. What-not was what-for. I am for the not. I believe in Whatnot. Whatnot will get me in the end. I will end-up - Whatnot six-feet-under. What is-it-for ? Is it Whatnot ? I ask again and again. Whatnot is dark and sinister. Whatnot is lord. Will you be friends or enemies ? I always liked Whatnot. Whatnot was Whatfor. Whatfor was fun. Anyway - you want to stay on the good-side of Whatnot. What's-not-to-like ? The Whatnot as the devil, and the Whatwill as God. A cage-match.
I met some people on the ferry, Ireland to Wales, a young English couple and two American women I think. We all went to a bar in Holyhead that evening maybe after dinner, but definitely a Welsh bar, crowded with seated silhouettes every table, with mostly mid-twenties locals. We were seated, the five of us at a table, the middle of a medium size rectangular room, a long bar on one side. As I remember, it was not one of those relaxers, with easy and lounge chairs like a living room, but more the stark walls, floor, ceiling and tables. It was informal, no-frills, a sit-down pale-light place, with a din of boisterous conversation, but no jammed-in musac for the no-talking set, a jovial, loud-laugh, casual and friendly togetherness.
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