And what if I don’t become famous posthumously Maybe my story’s no good If I can take one possession with me then it’ll have to be my duvet When oblivion comes calling it’ll be so cold….we’re going to die alone, all alone

My fave piece of music there from last Christmas from the brill Malcolm Middleton  (two great vids on YouTube. Watch ’em both).

Hey, some things can change over the course of twelve months, okay? I should know. 

And my thoughts on the great Christmas Hallelujah debate? As regular listeners will know, this blog featured the Imogen Heap version, as kinda suggested by the lovely Missie K, several weeks ago and we’re standing  by that. But welcome to the special Christmas version of the blog. So far, so good.

q    what’s furry and minty?

a     a polo bear       (It’s a cracker gag. Get the idea?)

So I’ve sent out millions and millions of cards and e-cards, cos you can’t go wrong with cards, can you? I mean nobody can get the wrong idea, can they? (Yes. It’s a premonition, just in case)

But I’ve had a few back.

My thanks to my mole on Glasgow City Council and I agree. The photographer should have taken the pic of the City Chambers, not from the City Chambers; 

and to my mate who makes statues (what are these people called?) and who sent me a pic of the massive erection he was responsible for in Edinburgh this year, I like the footnote: “(the subject)’s dog was called Toby but a bitch I know called Rosella modelled for it.” I went out with a model called Rosella once. Yup. Same burd;

and to my friends from Maggie’s Farm, have a good Christmas. Sorry I missed the party. Who knows? Had I gone, I might have pulled a cracker….ker-ching! Hey, it’s Christmas.

q     why didn’t the ghost go to the party?

a      he had no body to go with           (gulp, sob, gulp) 

And my fave seasonal TV prog? Obviously, Strictly Come. I’ve never seen it but as an amateur psephologist (my gd frnd Clr, and Caitlin, who I was talking to tonight who thought I looked so professional (eh?), I just don’t have the fancy tank tops that Strath Professor J C has), the problem with the voting was that there should have been four in the semis. John Sergeant’s premature evacuation caused the problem. He pulled out early.

I speak as a former student politician of whom it was once said I could get a biscuit tin elected. Maybe now, thirty years on, I should apologise.

q     what’s Santa’s favourite pizza?

a      one that’s deep pan, crisp and even.

And a quick serious note on the cancer front…I notice that the Head of Cancer Research UK thinks that symptom awareness  should be top priority in the fight against cancer. I agree. I was so lucky being a rehabbing alcoholic that I was being monitored regularly and my symptoms were picked up so quickly. Weird thing, luck. Weird sentence, that one, just before the one about “weird thing, luck”.

That’s a small amphibian you have there.

Yes. It’s my newt.          (say it out loud, for Goodness sake!) 

Incidentally, one wee point about the death of the guy known as Deep Throat in the Watergate story (and can I just point  out that the movie of the same name, currently available for £5 down the ol’ Fopp shop, has nothing to do with Woodward and Bernstein, and that its only interest to journo students would be the interesting non-verbal techniques used in interviews, not that I’ve ever seen it….all the way to the end, anyway) is that he didn’t break the story. He confirmed, or otherwise, certain facts. So, hey, keep in touch with all your possible contacts. C’est tout.

It was good journo techniques of the kind I hope they’re teaching these days (and in those days you did without mobile phones, but with manual typewriters, and you needed to know how to book the only phone box in the area with the aid of a local alkie (hey, I could have done both)), altho’ war movies with happy endings are good. Irrelevant but good.

And if anyone needs access to Watergate books, actually from that era, they’re on the same shelf as the Al-Qaeda stuff in the front room. It’s a hobby, okay?

Which brings me to the movie of the season, possibly,: Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr Hunter S. Thompson. I want to see it. Any offers? Any calls?

Two birds are sitting on a perch. One says, “do you smell fish?     (think about it)

And my hoped for hedonistic weekend got off to a damp start on Friday when a wee spot of rain put some really strong men off going for a mild libation. If onlyL frae Troon had been there to make it happen; dominance her speciality.

Incidentally, for those who were asking a very important question, about my social plans for the festivities. I can still do bacchanalia. It’s the licking champagne off womens’ bodies that’s tricky. I’ve not yet found a proper alternative (to champagne, not women), but it’s fun practicing. 

But I was at a great party this weekend, and a very Happy Twenty First Birthday to Aunt Marjon. Well she’s not really my aunt, but she is to members of a very large family, of whom Son Brian seems to be an honorary member and whilst the other C thought I looked “professional” (Yes. I know it’s the second time I’ve said it) and seemed to like my long hair (are you listening people who have not seen me for months?), Son Brian seemed to take great pleasure in telling me black and blue didn’t match.

They will on your face the next time I get you on your own. Inheritance? What inheritance?

What’s the difference between a duck? One of its legs are both the same.        (Jung Wan, I know it doesn’t make sense, but I laughed just the same)

Incidentally, Uncle Colin, the Vampire Mag is called “Bite Me” and I don’t spend all my time on the internet. I just happen to know these things. No. No reason. Except…….for those of you who know of the existence of a sweatshirt with my one remaining demon still in it, you might not be aware of the fact that it’s a freebie from a movie called Interview with a Vampire, which is on next week. (Spooky or what?) Vampire Slayer. Where are you when I need you? It’s a kinda rhetorical question, Torrance One. But you know where I am. If I scream.

And Uncle Colin, all those silly things you say I said about about a College student. Why, they could have applied to several people, couldn’t they? COULDN’T THEY? 

And finally, mention of which reminds me that next week sees the first ever Annual Johnt850 Personality of the Year Awards. Lots of jostling for position going on and I’m aware who some people see as the favourite, and I am counting the votes, and there is at least one person who has played a major part in my life this year, albeit unwittingly at times, and well, still lots of time…..it’s your call.

But seriously, in the meantime, have a really festive thing, folks.

Johnt850, who looked sooooo “professional” tonight in the eyes of one really talented and exceptional writer, but he actually felt he looked more as if he was training for the priesthood. But, hey I suit black. It’s the colour of the night.

cya

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2 Responses to “And what if I don’t become famous posthumously Maybe my story’s no good If I can take one possession with me then it’ll have to be my duvet When oblivion comes calling it’ll be so cold….we’re going to die alone, all alone”

  1. Caitlin Says:

    You did look professional!

    stop pretending like you didn’t enjoy the compliment 🙂

    merry christmas

  2. johnt850 Says:

    That is sooooo kind of you.

    Just spread the word! Every little helps!

    cya and merry festive stuff to you.

    x

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