Well I finally found a home where I’ll never be alone Right here where I belong I finally found a home here in a song

The words of Huey Lewis there as featured in the book American Psycho and what I say is, that if a reference to modern day blogging can find its way on to the same distinguished pages as Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe, then Bret Easton Ellis is more than welcome here.

No. I’m not too sure what that means either but I’m sure that, even as I write someone, somewhere has a finger hovering over a keyboard. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 ping ! By the way, it’s now your call.

And on the cancer front no official confirmation of the date with the consultant so, obviously, I’m not telling anyone, anywhere, anything at all…..just in case.

But I was looking though the Green Book they give you before sandblasting, just to check that the current side effect was only normal……It is. I should still be tired. I couldn’t help but notice the advice where it says, “Accept offers of help from family and friends around the house if you need help.” I should have got the downstairs room re-decorated at the time!

And nice meeting you Suzy. Interesting possibilities. And no, CD, I didn’t get the chance to ask. Bound to be. There must be someone out there.

And in the strange world that is Euro 2008, where did Alan Shearer get that awful blackshirt from? Oh. Surely not. And my favourite commentator cliche of the tourney so far? “The corridor of uncertainty”. Listen, pal, I face that twice a week when I sit down to write this.

Anyway, Dennis what does David Taylor think of it so far? Hopefully more than Alan Hansen. 

And don’t forget, my money’s on Croatia. It could pay for the Loft (Not yet an in gag, but GK and I are working on it)

My thanks to the Torrance One-the Vampire Slayer, for your suggestions for bands to watch on Youtube, but my fave, at the moment, are you reading Clr, you and your high horse, is the vid from the Glasgow Art School called Big Ideas (Don’t Get Any). 30-15, I think.

The challenge is on. I’ll see your flapjacks (am I allowed to say that?) with any page you choose at random from the Phil Vickery Pudding Cookbook (except page 40, which didn’t really work the last time, did it?). Faites vos jeux indeed. (By the way, did you pay your share of that book, eh, eh?)

Meanwhile, in the not so petty world of vampire slaying, that’s twice now I’ve met T1 in Prince’s Square and I’ve not seen a vampire yet.  The depute head of the Met College , yes, but no vampires. Well done T1. Not that I was meant to be meeting……anyway.

( I forget sometimes that not everyone reads this, although figures continue to be good). So, when Sharon (good looking, etc) mobiled me the other day to say she’d be late, I said, “No problem. I’ll go see the Vampire Slayer.” S? Was there any need to bring the men in white coats? And yes. I still chew the white plastic stirrers. And No. I have no idea where they go. I have some at home.

And well done again to Laura F and her new career mentioned last week. I bring it up it as people were asking me why I liked NCIS. I think the attached billing from the Radio Times says it all;

“While investigating an illegal car business, the team discover a severed head in one of the vehicles.” Good family entertainment. That could be you, L. Not the severed head, but you know what I mean.

My thanks to those asking after Kenny the Shed Pimp and this is serious. He is now out of hospital, having damaged his back. Quite sad really. I mean when am I going to get my new shed?

On the out and about front, thoroughly enjoyed the West End Mardi Gras in the Botanics last week. I wonder were those, real Brazilians? And Helena, if it hadn’t been for your accent, I’m not too sure I would have recognised you behind those sunglasses and that cheeseburger. Nice friend.

However, why is it, when you find the perfect spot for snapping, just before the samba bands start, someone leaps through the flower bed and stands right in front of you. I hate the spirit of bonhomie the event engenders. Although the best view undoubtedly must be from the car park overlooking Byres Road, on top of the supermarket. That’s spoilt it for them, for next year!

And finally, to my son and heir, Brian,  (you get the house but the wallpaper comes with it) who has just received his exam results. A 2:1 in Accountancy (Hey. My son, my blog, okay). I really like the high score you got in “Accounting Classics”, classics such as “The Famous Double Entry of 1975”. Before anyone writes in to complain on grounds of taste, and current possible impossibility, that is an accounting gag, okay?

But your suggestion that Strathclyde’s Creative Writing course for accountants is about cooking the books is slightly wide of the mark.

Serious well done also goes to Katie for her results (greater use to personkind), and McBride, did you only get a 2:2 ? Just think, one day my son could run all of Brazil and not just a river.

At this point I stop. My own degree was achieved with the help of notes, which are probably still being passed on within the cloistered towers. But hey. Look at the friends I made. All rich and successful and name droppers. I hate them! Kinda.



p.s. Blogmeister, do you really think this is the kind of thing the Sunday Mail is looking for?

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