She came in through the bathroom window, protected by a silver spoon, But now she sucks her thumb and wanders by the banks of her own lagoon. Didn’t anybody tell her? Didn’t anybody see?

Joe Cocker from the incredible Mad Dogs and Englishmen album, and to the guys from Planet Holyrood, I just couldn’t find an appropriate kitchen lyric. It’s funny how in-jokes start, isn’t it?

Cos I met up with my editors on Thursday, men I know from a previous academic existence. For one, his last memory of me as a College tutor was me saying the words, “I’m going to be sick”, leaving the room and returning six months later. (Some ‘memory’, eh?)  The other? Well, he sat in the pub and claimed he’d just seen a giant inflatable turkey wander past the window. Is paintballing a euphemism for something?

Moi? I was behaving myself impeccably until the guy came over to clear the glasses and the background music died down just as I said the words, ‘auto erotic asphyxiation’ (Younger and impressionable listeners, please wait until your mum leaves the room before you look it up. I’ll only get the blame.) and this was before the David Carradine story broke.

To the barman from Rufus T. Firefly and the rest of the albeit unwitting audience, can I just say it’s a track by Slow Draw and should not be confused with the song of the same name by the Grindcore band Devourment and if you want to pretend to be a real investigative journo, the google links should lead you to a recently resigned Tory  MP.

And talking of aspiring journos, I take it you’re all aware of the various local newspaper reporter jobs floating around, or your lecturers and media savvy folks have told you about them. Good.

Anyway it was good to catch up with the guys, swop some stories and chat about the way ahead for the website. And that means I’ve met up with most people now and so far everyone has survived meeting me, so good. I carry no culling lullaby (cf Chuck Palahniuk) but there are some folk out there who did say things just over a year ago like, “Next one’s on me”, “sometime this summer”, and so on.

Can I stress no hidden agendas? It’s the just the last time we met, folks, we laffed, and I enjoy laffing and (anniversary alert) two years six months ago, I had little to laff about. Thirty months, sober and solvent free. To some it may not seem a long time. To me? Like, indescribably wow.

So can I thank everyone – including those who when I returned to work told me on a 1:2:1 basis that at some point I would relapse cos all alkies do – for helping me at various times in various ways. Lots of good news out there, all of it shared and fate is there to be tempted.

I wouldn’t have mentioned it but I have been talking to lots of people this week who have worser cancers than mine ever was, and they say Well Done. My face goes red, but that’s the result of the hormone injections I received a wee while ago. That and the tomato juice in those bars that actually sell it. More news on those injections to come some time this week. Keep watching. Most of my side effects were temporary. C’est tout que je dis.

But yes, I did my first Prostate Cancer Charity stand at Cumbernauld this week just past. We arrived. The organiser said to me, “We’ve got you a power generator.” I said “I don’t need one.” He said, “Aren’t you the Belgian Chocolate man?” I said “No.” He said, “Ah.” and moved us.

But it was a good day and we met lots of people, many wives asking on behalf of their husbands….just in case.

And I also sat in with another volunteer watching him doing a presentation and talk in town. (Note to self: There is nothing in the training notes that says I have to use post-presentation time to chat up the Human Resources manageress Janine. But it was fun. Wedding ring.

However, one of the advantages of pre-reccing, which I’m doing again today, is that I can take a break halfway through and do hunter, gatherer – M & S, Byres Road – and I’ve just met her and her mum. I like the “But this must be your sister” line but it might make some mums uncomfortable. C’est juste moi. C’est tout.)

So I’m all set up to ‘man’ an Information Stand at my old alma mater, Glasgow Met, in the ground floor foyer, at a Staff Health and Wellbeing Day, on 16th June. Be there or be a rhomboid. Looking forward to it already.

Last week’s was also pre-recorded and my thanks to BBC Al, the blog’s bad taste pal who was down in London on re-shuffle day helping to choose the new Celtic manager, or am I getting my friends mixed up? Interesting suggestion following last week’s description of the fight in Asda. Harriet Harman or Caroline Flint? It’s a Harry Hill moment.

Incidentally as a result of C’nauld I missed Clydebank (Death to the Diamonds) in the Scottish Junior Cup Final and whilst a Well Done to Gordon Robertson and the others is deserved can I also pay my own wee tribute to bestest friend ever Caitlin and her incredible family for keeping the senior team going for so long and for being so tolerant of me for about the same length of time.

And, C, I think your Gran’s a brill singer. Obviously I have, but don’t ask me what the songs were. Son Brian has just groaned.

And talking of brill, amazing news from the Vampire Slayer. I am really really pleased. It’s something we’ve talked about quite a bit in the past. Superb. Fantastic. It’s just a shame I can’t share it with anyone else through the blog otherwise it gives away your real identity.  Well done from both me and Missie K.

But, in conversation with the VS I discovered that she and I have something in common (other than the obvious). We both abhor badly designed Chinese garden architecture. No. No reason.

Oh, and Cathcart minor, I tend to tell people  things before they happen but you are worth your credit on

on BBC Radio Scotland. Oh, and btw, how’s your mum? Nice meeting her the other night. Give me advance warning the next time.

So in a cosy, chummy way this week’s show comes to an end. Me? A wee bit more ‘drinking’ later today and, for my first time ever, tomorrow, I’m going to watch speedway. In fact, I’ve just realised why Ashfield is so called. No. It’s no caulder than Springburn.

And therefore, finally, as Jah Wobble said of William Blake; ‘when joy comes, it’s lovely, but don’t hold on to it.’  Where did I read that? In the kitchen. Where else.


Johnt850, It’s leathers, Dave, but not as I remember them.

2 Responses to “She came in through the bathroom window, protected by a silver spoon, But now she sucks her thumb and wanders by the banks of her own lagoon. Didn’t anybody tell her? Didn’t anybody see?”

  1. K Says:

    Hey, come on now! I only thought I saw a giant inflatable turkey for a few seconds. When I looked closer it was a giant inflatable KANGAROO, as you well know….


  2. johnt850 Says:

    In which case, I’m not coming to Christmas at your house!!!!

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