Night is an adder Hidden in grass Bites like her life depends on it And waits to see how long you last. But you know better You stand your ground It might just sting a little But she knows you’re sticking around

Lyrics sung there by the brilliant K T Tunstall, suggested by the equally brilliant Missie K. And all lyric suggestions are gratefully received. Not sure about the FSM lyrics, though, blogmeister, but the music is good.

But “sticking around” is what this blog intends to do. So spread the word.

There will be changes. Blogs evolve, as do radio programmes, friendships and my back garden.

There has been a high horse level meeting, much more successful than the recent World Trade talks, in which four of us video conferenced, conference called, sent out the sherpas and had beer and sandwiches, except me, obviously, and by a total of fifteen votes to zero came up with the following advice:

“Can the hat-tips, the heads-ups and the hot air.” 

The biggest and most notable change is that this is the last mid-week edition but the Sunday edition remains. Spread the word. Keep the faith.

That is, if I survive Live at Loch Lomond on Saturday. The ticket seems to be waiting for me at Lochburn Delivery Office. The stories will await you in Sunday’s blog. Survival tips needed now!

But just because I am, currently, clear of cancer does not mean I am resting in peace, sorry, resting on my laurels. There will still be cancer references but done in a manner similar to that on BBC-2’s Dr Alice Roberts:Don’t Die Young which, last night, looked at both the male and female reproductive organs, including a look at male cancers. The prostate ain’t that big, considering its importance.  Available on BBCiplayer; the programme that is, not the prostate.

However, I’m not so sure that I’d have chosen This Is the End from Apocalypse Now, a fave movie of mine, as the music to celebrate when the winning sperm got to fertilise the female egg. But what do I know? Right?

The way Dr Roberts described it, maybe Whistling in the Dark would have been more appropriate.

Nor do I think her catchphrase of “I’ve opened up the scrotum” will ever catch on, but it sure as hell brought tears to my eyes watching her do it. I should point out it was a dead pig’s scrotum….I’m sorry. This is only the second time in all the thirty seven editions of this blog I have been unable to complete a paragraph.

I then made the mistake of watching Gordon Ramsay. Work out your own gag.

What I do know is that 10,000 men die every year from prostate cancer, which is why my next PSA check up is so important. Three and a half months and counting.

And that’s not paranoia. It’s a realistic appraisal of the future. I was talking to a friend of mine last week and was mentioning the fact that I, a recovering alcoholic, always make sure I spit out the mouthwash I use. What I’ve not told her about are the times I find myself swigging, sorry, swirling the mouthwash straight from the bottle, albeit unwittingly. Try looking in the mirror at that point. That’s paranoia.

What I also know is that one of the still untold stories from the sandblasting centre (I have started the book so I will finish) is of the man who had had his prostate removed but still had prostate cancer. But how? So, I asked. So, now I know. So at the beginning of November I will get my PSA levels checked before seeing my consultant and I will sweat buckets…just in case, seriously just in case.

But, meanwhile, back at the blog.

Pomposity will continue to be pricked. (Laura F, no obvious connection but no decision was made on individuals. You know someone with twelve votes. It’s your chance for survival. Vampire Slayer? You know the all powerful one as well. Kenny the Shed Pimp and the real Smiley Carol? We’ll see)

How can Donald Trump, my good friend Claire, be so good for the environment when he openly admits to using so much hair spray?

BBC weather forecasts will continue to be monitored. The latest? Laura Lear openly admitting there will be “no hokey-cokey with the duvet tonight.” I think I know what she means, but what a name, eh? The BBC’s very own six word weather forecast.

I will continue to leave myself open to scrutiny and ridicule as the search for work begins. Spread the word. I won’t be stupid about it, well no more than usual, but if Gordon Brown is willing to go on holiday without wearing a tie, then I think that’s “pivetal” (sp) to my approach. It’s my own “Window of Creative Competition”.

Yes. Much of that paragraph is illogical but, there again, I’ve never been the most logical of people. Why else would I buy a worry stone when I don’t know how to use it? And why did Cathy Jamieson choose to launch her Scottish Labour leadership challenge at the Stand Comedy Club? 

But why should I worry, when the Herald fashion pages tell me that flared denims are back in. And I’m getting my hair cut. It’s bad enough seeing me in the mirror with a half bottle of mouthwash, but when it’s a Bosnian Serb war criminal before going into hiding, staring back at me, then it’s time to worry. I’ve nothing else to worry about.

So, go on Radovan, sue me!

And finally, although I’m currently in a “no apologies, no thank yous” mood (maybe too much/too many recently), can I just say thanks to all those now former students of Glasgow Met who shared their recent good news with me? A perfect end to an almost perfect seven days. So far, so good.

And to anyone who didn’t quite get that same good news, my money’s on you to finish it off. Soon. Each way.

So cya  Sunday, when abnormal service will be resumed. Hopefully. If I’m spared. Now what should I wear? Flared denims? Maybe not. Don’t want to attract too much attention to myself.

Johnt850, a member of “the inspirational generation”.

2 Responses to “Night is an adder Hidden in grass Bites like her life depends on it And waits to see how long you last. But you know better You stand your ground It might just sting a little But she knows you’re sticking around”

  1. The Blogmeister Says:

    Well I’m glad you liked FSM for their music as the suggestion was for that purpose more than for lyrical bloggery. Yes, depending on which tracks/album you listened to their lyrics may be a tad….depressing, but if you get a chance check out a fabulously upbeat track called “Hello, it’s Me.”

    I look forward to Sunday’s newly evolved blog. Chapter Two begins – it is time to, in the words of the great Bob Seger (and superbly covered by the immortal Metallica), Turn the Page.

  2. Johnt850 Says:

    I’m looking forward to it as well. You never know, I might like the Music Fest lifestyle so much I never return. That would be a real page turner.

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