The constellation of Aquarius superimposed on a map of Leominster

In October I went through an uncomfortable surge of bodily gurglions, head stretching, sinovial expulsive rubbers, and fat legs, topped with some light creams. Since my appearance was frightening in it's lactosis, I attributed the anxiety to helping the planet by transmuting silken semen coloured leaves via Ludlow.

To enable a cure in my mind, a candle had to be made. Ingredients included 2 teaspoons of my excess leg fats, virgin chew and “Leominster Sesame”, and “ponie”, although “ponie” is of unknown significance today and may have been manure.

After that medicine I could feel a big difference in my legs and arse. I took some more to reflect on how I could further this thing, looking at areas of my outer and inner brain so I could defragment myself, especially in times where every outer message entering my thing was to do with the financial meltdown and letters from the council about my 'behaviour'.

I asked myself “Why am I choosing to hold this? “Gives us our Hand back!” exclaimed the man. In reply I simply stared into the dark sending the man away.

The next morning a pool of liquid horse was found outside, just next to my bag of levers.

UFO's exist, claims talking horse

Freud believed that horses symbolized the repressed stench of a lonely thing. A mare can represent the shape of you, while a stallion can stand several elipsoid rubber tronkions nose to face.

If you are a frightened horse, you may be uncomfortable with your leg, the one you are experiencing this moment, bouncing up and down at the back of it. Trying to control a horse can be a subconscious sign that you want more control over your leg.

A talking horse is the voice of your unconscious brain, moved into position by an old man, via levers. The man will know you are born under the Radnorshire astrological sign of Flahn-hraargh, represented by a creature that is half horse but mostly farmer.

Talking horse say "UFO come from sky, take cow, leave gasses and scare man".

The Tale of My Rubbery UFO Councillor - A Ballad

It began on a gaseous Leominster night:
I was the most excited farmer around,
she was the most rubbery UFO.

She was my councillor,
My rubbery councillor,
My UFO.

We used to stick so well together,
Back then, during the Ley Hunters Annual Conference in Kington.
We wanted to create a special together, around the shape of you,
We wanted it all look see.

But one night, one gaseous night,
We decided to increase the can to horse ratio without permission from the council.
Together we created a face made from golden rectangles.
It was shapes, so shapes.

From that moment our relationship changed.
She started to smell of.

And then it happened:

Oh no! Oh no!

She aligned a Graham Norton.
A big Graham Norton!
My councillor aligned a Graham Norton.
It made a horizontal line or four ciders on a plinth.

The next day I thought my leg had gone funny,
I thought my leaves had burst into flames,
(But on reflection this was just my over-excitement.)

But still, she is in my thoughts.
I think about how it all changed that night,
That gaseous Leominster night.

My leaves... ouch!
When I think of that rubbery UFO,
That rubbery UFO and me.