Phony monkey toy money lose end soda hands pink plastic Jesus on the dashboard just saying He’s the alphabet pony He’s the alphabet pony

So farewell brill 2008 and hello promising 2009. No. No resolutions. Just threads. And I did have conversations with various people called Brian, and I agreed there’d be lots of line drawing under certain aspects of 2008, that I’d act sensibly, and my age, and that I’d show willingness by playing only sensible lyrics from well known bands.

So, that was Alphabet Pony from the album Midnight Boom by the minimalist indie rock, garage punk band, The Kills. It’s a Point of View. Sorry. I lied, albeit unwittingly.

So how did I spend Hogmanay? With neighbours around the village duckpond here in Summerston watching the firework display supplied by the Young Possil Fleet, aka Lisa B. (I don’t think anyone lived in that high-rise anyway). We’d all a glass or two of mulled wine, or in my case, mulled tomato juice, freshly seared with a red hot poker. Interesting earthy taste.

(Does anyone read Chaucer these days, bytheway? He’d give that Bret Easton Ellis a run for his money, Clr. It’s worth a Google search). 

Incidentally can I say a big thanks to all those who sent mails, cards, spoke, txtd (even at 3.30 on New Year’s morning), called and so on with a wee bit more than just festive greetings but with best wishes on the alcohol and cancer front. Thanks in particular to the friend who described me as having “amazing will-power” in connection with alcohol. No. I just have amazing friends, like you, and I’d like to keep them. So far, so good……mmmmm. It’s not always easy though, is it?

Although, on a seriously different note, I did get a wee fright when discussing cough syrups with a couple of mates and, laughing at the fact that I slug mine out of the bottle, I did say that I’d a spare bottle in the kitchen….just in case. Gulp.

You can take the boy away from an addiction……..(And doesn’t the green lem-sip syrup look like methadone?)

But to a lighter note. To all of you who turned up at Loch Lomond Shores last Monday hoping to answer an easy question and therefore get treated to lunch by my credit card, Son Brian and I had in fact decanted to the little picturesque village of Clydebank-sur-la-Riviere (sorry gd frnd Clr, I don’t know the French for canal. Oh, is it?) where we had lunch in a little bistro called Frankie and Benny’s. They weren’t in.

Son Brian was in the middle of teaching me how to deal with prospective clients when, and can I apologise to the waitress for this  – I didn’t know she was standing there – the burger flew out of the bun I was holding and, and, and how did the cheese stay in the bun?  But as you say, Son and heir, it can take ten seconds to create a first impression and up to 27 meetings to change that impression. Sometimes, for me, it works the other way round.

And I did buy some new shoes from a very exclusive boutique called Brantano. Black is so my colour, so professional. Caitlin, you are so right. A whole new wardrobe is called for. But what does anyone else you know think? Subleties’r’us.

Years ago, one of the first times I left the BBC, I went down to Ralph Slater’s with Sharon and the real Smiley Carol – my credit card, their choice of clothes for me. I’d do that again. No. No real reason. It was just good fun. And why didn’t we take K-J?

All good looking women, all spoken for, but 2009, hey I’m back in the market.  Blind dates, internet dating, any and all suggestions considered, although I did hear one relationship expert say today that the best chat up line is still, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Mmmm, can I get back to you on that? I’m still getting my tongue around, “Would you like to go for a coffee?”, and that’s just with friends. 

But all the usual offers still apply. It’s your call and all of you know who you are. There is still plenty of credit on the card and then the government will bail me out. It’ll have to. The value of my savings is fast diminishing and I have no mortgage. I own my house. I gain no benefit from falling interest rates and when I did Politics and Economics at University, the idea of a negative interest rate would have been laughed out of court.

Desperate times. My Son has banned me from the ol’ Fopp shop. It’s an inheritance thing.

But I have an address in Brazil, I assume that’s where it is, that I use from time to time. They’ve got a really nice person there who seems to spend their nights looking for books, DVDs and CDs for me and making recommendations to me for when I get up in the morning. Vampire Chicks with Chainsaws sounds seriously good. I’ll move swiftly on, I think.

On the politics front, I am interested by the movie on the Frost-Nixon interviews. I was inspired by much of Watergate, have some brill books from the time itself (second hand book shops -I’m not that old) and I have a copy of Nixon’s astrological chart. I have no idea how I got it and I have no idea what to do with it. But I don’t think any good will come of him, based on my reading. But what do I know?

But as to my own future, my own reading of the threads? The blook is at 40,000 words, some of them quite good, and thanks team for all your help and encouragement; business plans are now drawn up for my own business idea and a website designer has been identified; and my washing machine has died, not “popped its clogs”, but died. That’s when the coping mechanisms kick in, and these days, unlike the dark days of August/September, they work, and work well…..unlike the washing machine.

Incidentally, someone I know called Thom(p)son is still having some problems sending e-mails at times. The problem seems to be with renewing his security cover. It might be a password problem but he can’t remember the password. Aaargh!

And finally, there is one resolution for this blog. One of the reasons for doing it was to keep a fun message going where cancer is concerned, and I’ve been a wee bit remiss in doing so recently, maybe a wee bit carried away by myself and forgetting others. So, High Horse Level committee, I’m aware and will be even more ware in the future. That’s a promise. I owe it to some amazing people, some of whom I never met.

cya and take care and, Frankie and Benny, that waitress, it was just tomato sauce on her apron, wasn’t it? I did offer to wipe it down but she declined. Can’t think why.



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