Rylands and The Masons

W’all (that’s like ‘y’all’ (you all!) but ‘we all’, and when I say ‘W’all’ I mean the Baerons!) went to a vintage fair today.  I bought some retro sunglasses.  I also tried on some hats but they felt greasy against my head.  When your head can tell a thing is dirty that’s probably a sign not to buy it.

The vintage fair was held in the Freemasons Hall in Manchester.  I had never entered a Masonic lodge prior to this and I was quite impressed.  I don’t know a great deal about the Masons and that’s probably with credit to them, they’re a secret organisation.  I do know that more often or not you have to show some allegiance to a supreme being, and I don’t mean James Brown, the Godfather of soul, whom I would be happy to show allegiance to, but they mean a nonsense being like God or summat.  Piggy and I left the fair and went for a little wander about and found the grand hall.  I got the impression that many virgins had been disrobed in there.

Whilst we were killing some time before the fair we visited the John Rylands Library, and what a magnificent place that is.  A Victorian gothic creation where, like the Masonic lodge around the corner, I can imagine a whole lot of naughtiness going on after hours like staff reading unpublished versions of the bible whilst being fellated by goats, or summat!

Mind you, all the time in there I was thinking that you could probably put all this information onto a USB stick.

One of the Librarians had a detailed tattooed head and I was fascinated.  I imagine that if you wanted to go through life un-noticed you wouldn't get your head tattooed so I didn’t think he would mind me asking if I could take a closer look at it.  Despite his initial quizzical expression he agreed and I looked.  Although I don’t think I’ll ever get my head tattooed I do think his was pretty fucking awesome, and I told him so.

"Tattooed Head"

Apparently they play chess with Virgins in the centre of this room.