Archive for October, 2009

I am a nation A worker of pride My debt to the status quo The scars on my hands And the means to an end Is all I have to show

October 31, 2009

And I make no apology for playing Green Day and other loud rock’n’roll bands over the last twenty four hours or so ‘cos what should have been a really good week became a really good week but with a ‘but’….my PC got attacked last week but all boarders were repelled with but one casualty….I’ve lost a lot of e-mail and, unfortunately, my e-mail address book with loadsa contacts, both business and personal. My network nerve centre.

I wasn’t looking at anything ‘iffy’ or ‘pervvy’. It was websites to do with Andrew Lloyd Webber (Actually now, when I think about it…..) who, according to The Sun, has been ‘struck’ with prostate cancer. (I wasn’t ‘struck’; I just ‘had’ it but then again I’m not a Lord). The newspaper, which very kindly told the world recently that ‘all my bits are working’, then goes on to perpetuate the myth that it usually ‘kicks in at pensionable age and beyond’.

FFS, according to my birth certificate age I was 51 years old when it insidiously worked its way into my defences like Security Tool tried to, only I was too busy pickling my liver on a daily basis to notice. So, please, if you do know males who have questions about this, then tell them to go to the doctor. If I, or Prostate Cancer Charity Scotland, can help in some way, just ask….just in case. Andrew, I know you read this. 😉

(And Dennis Hopper, star of Apocalpyse Now and Easy Rider, has it as well. ‘Get your motor riding…..straight along the highway……looking for adventure…..and whatever comes our way’. C’est moi, c’est tout)

So anyway if you know my alter ego (I am/he is calming down) and you communicate with him or there’s anything outstanding, please get in touch. I think he’s lost some business as well. On the other hand I bumped into Gwen the other day and she’s just back from travelling the world. Some you win; others you don’t lose. (God, that sounds like one of those twee calendars doesn’t it?)

(Does a funny calendar lose its impact the following year, if  it wasn’t used as a Christmas present this year?)

And Caitlin, my taxi driver taking me to the Hilton the other day (it’s business, okay?), took me to the back door thinking I worked there! (I was going to say rear entrance but then that becomes the sort of obvious innuendo that frightens Adrian Chiles on the appalling The One Show).

But a lot of the social stuff is also on Facebook and my own little BBC Friends Re-United (No. I still haven’t heard) continues with re-finding the amazing Ruth, the World’s Second Greatest Researcher (apres moi, d’accord). And her first question on re-connection? ‘How’s your Son?’

I think it was ‘cos, long before the sexism of Take Your Daughter To Work Day, I had Dump Your Son at a Spare PC Afternoon once a week after Primary School, and when other estranged kids got taken places at the weekend, he got taken to Studio 6 in Queen Margaret Drive. Happy Daze. Yes. He’s an accountant. No. No reason. 

(And it’s thanks to him I’m reffing a Beaver football tournament instead of going to Firhill. Don’t ask. Let’s upset Adrian)

So I can’t say much about the very diverse group I was working with last week but it was helping people into employability and it was the last week and two out of fourteen have already got job offers. Listen, I was chuffed. 🙂

We did mock preparing for employment interviews and stuff and no smartasses were (allegedly) deliberately failed but I was reminded of a previous similar exercise and when I asked the question, ‘Have you had any recent experience of the NHS?’, I got the answer;

‘Aye, when my brother was murdered a few weeks ago. Me and my maw stayed with him until he died.’ My follow up question was more journalistic than Human Resources.

But as ever I learned a lot and I was tipped off about a band called The Tenements (lots of good talent now in the East End) but they seem already to be known to quiet but busy top pop picker Heather C, who once wrote of them; ‘they are all like strawberry jam’….aw. Who taught you journalism stuff H? Oh, aye.

Incidentally, gd frnd Clr and bestest friend Caitlin, met a colleague of yours the other day. C’est tout. And I am now a legit member of Strathclyde Uny Library. Guided tour a possibility?

And the screenwriting class thing continues. Again not a lot I can say, except they think I’m a bit weird. It’s maybe to do with the short movie we were shown, where everyone else raved about the child actor, whereas I enthused about the druggie mum, who seemed to me the eternal optimist, stealing the car keys, stealing the car, stealing the ring and then punching her daughter to help get away from the police, Cool, eh? But not to be condoned, obvioulsy. (Way to go, smackhead mum)

But I’m sorry, blogmeister, I did go to a PC recovery man. In the past a guy called Yassim has done work to my PC but when I took it to the Sick Computer Hospital at the bottom of Byres Road (it does all sorts of other stuff but not the sort of place ethical journos should know about.) I was told Yassim has gone. To Duke Street. Lots of good talent in the East End. He has been replaced.

By Jo-El, who also dances the tango of  a Friday evening and was having a party that night for his Kung Foo pals. I declined the invite. Well, to both since you ask. He wasn’t that expensive. He wasn’t responsible for the parking ticket I got for waiting outside the hospital, which added to the cost. Jo-El exists btw. Creativity does not have to be about invention but talking to people, not ignoring them. We, I’m sorry, they have stories, different from those  you might expect. Still waiting for the call, as it were. As  ever.

And so, finally, I knew a lot of students at the College where I taught, not ‘cos they were students of mine but ‘cos they came out of Summerston. (I think for many people my nickname was ‘He-who-teaches-at-college-and-therefore-must-know-the-answer.)

So Big Hi to Jo-Anne, due to give birth in about ten weeks and who is organising a Big Night for the Beatson Cancer Centre at The Scotch (pub) down the road from me. I won’t be there. She does it ‘cos she lost two males from her family to cancer. Sometimes I feel such a fraud. Sometimes I don’t even pretend I can’t find change.

I do hope this explains to people in the high flats why I was giving a pregnant woman money the other day. It’s a strange form of guilt but not as they thought it. 🙂

cya

Johnt850

Oh, and bytheway, a big thanks to Missie K and the Vampire Slayer for their patience. Yes. Loadsa reasons.

Advertisements

At every turn the water runs away from me and the halo disappears and the hole when you’re not near. So what if I was wrong? But hold on to what you believe in the light when the darkness has robbed you of all your sight So hold on to that you believed in the light

October 24, 2009

To whom it may concern; my obsession is not an obsession, it is a belief and if it is still an obsession, it’s not that obsession. 😉

I’ll explain all that in a wee minute but my thanks for this week’s music to Heather C, quiet but busy. It took me a wee while to get into Mumford & Sons but well worth it.

But first, as unimaginative presenters might say, news of a top appointment. (No. I’ve still to hear from the Beeb. They did say the ‘end of month.’).

I have been made the Vampire Slayer’s Hit Man, although I suspect the contracts may be different from the one I’ve just signed to provide some freelance training services in Glasgow. (Some people see the present, not the past).

No. The Torrance One came to me with a problem and I have offered a solution. It’s cool. Although I suspect I may need to learn an entirely new language, LOL, smh, btw.

Unfortunately they’ve already made a TV series called The Hit Man and Her and younger listeners can find it on YouTube. (Michaela Strachan in the middle of the night. 🙂 ) As you watch it, please remember that I was officially single as of 1990, and still looking (2009).

Please feel free to ask your mums, aunts or whoever if they ever went on girls’ nights out to Bonkers, Clatty Pat’s or, if I was on PR expenses, Victoria’s (The Piano Bar). No. No reason.

Actually isn’t it interesting how many panellists on Question Time sounded as if they’d just discovered YouTube. They had over-prepared. They ignored the first rule of journalism; they didn’t listen to Griffin’s answers. They were too busy reading their cribsheets. Aaaaaaaargh!

(Missie K, that’s a different aaaaargh from the one that’s on its way to you)

Still I think it’s only right we listen to folk with strange views on immigration. Go to BBC iPlayer and listen to Baroness Warsi, the cherrypicker. Jeez.

Schweppes Russchian tastes awful on its own. How could I drink it even with vodka? And I hate the clocks going back. I just wake up earlier. Thank God for the twenty four hour garage.

No. I started my screen writing class this week just past based in the Dr Livingstone I Presume Tower in Strathclyde Uny and it was a good start. As with a previous class certain rules of confidentiality exist. But it was really nice to meet up with someone from the previous class who shouted, much to the fear of the others, ‘Hey the blogger’s back’, and described me to some others as an ‘aspiring writer’. I may yet have an identity for Match.com.

And I got a really nice note from a previous writing tutor who was asking after the blook as well as me. See, C, it’s made academic circles as a word. Maybe even that new Glasgow Uny Thesaurus.

So, yes, I have a belief. I have a story I want to tell, which is fun (alkoholism and cancer) and it involves good people, and some bad………. Moving swiftly on as imaginative presenters say. (Plus I have still my homework to finish)

Strathclyde University where the student newspaper leads on false fire alarms by students and hides an amazing story about a student caught up in riots at the G20 on page 6. A firefighter friend of mine (a real one) at Maryhill tells me that the biggest cause of callouts are the students who live in the Glasgow Uny flats at Murano Street who don’t realise that grill pans need cleaned after toasted cheese. 😦

I got round it in the first flat I stayed in after living in a mixed sex (eh?) Uny Hall of Residence by stealing  a brand new combo grill and oven from that Hall. After three months they came and asked for it back. No charges were pressed. Serioulsy.

Sailor not Santa by the way. Christmas can come too soon, and I still have last year’s pressy to give. Call, etc, etc……Aaaaaargh (It’s a different one. I have many voices)

And Jaymi, I was going to use Diana Ross’s Chain Reaction as the lyric but then I actually checked the lyrics.

And I love all the publicity for Frankie (he seems okay on Saturday mornings) Boyle including the jury ruling on two of his recent gags. My own favourite was always about Princess Diana and ended with the punchline,……….actually, you might be reading this after 9 p.m. I’d better check with BBC Al. Maybe next week? Or I might just take my lead from the new series of The Thick Of It.

See the person, not the age.

Incidentally, Jordan not wanting publicity? Priceless.

And so I was out yesterday with a blooming and blossoming e (there may be a special blog edition in 3 weeks or so….Son Brian’s birth anno was done on BBC Radio Scotland) and we went into the ol’ Fopp shop, and I bought a CD and The List and e said, ‘So you’re hiding the CD behind the mag’, and the assistant smiled and I said to the assistant, ‘No. You don’t understand. No’ and the assistant continued to smile.

Albeit unwittingly.

And finally, I realise I like the lite club in The Corinthian in Glasgow but I now realise that many welldressed women do not instantly relate to my crumpled Timberland look. I keep saying to them , look at the person and not the shirt.

Thoughts, Caitlin? As I say, you’re the boss.

So, Son Brian we’re moving the venue for my final show but we’ll keep the music. Dare I risk deathclock.com? It’s beginning to tick.

cya

john ‘the hitman’ t850

Reg McKay (56) died this week. He’d written about his cancer in the Daily Record and, as regular listeners will know, his style was different from mine. But he had a different editorial team; his wife, the gorgeous Gerry, who herself had beaten breast cancer. So far, so good.

Like me, Reg came from the North East of Scotland. He was a social worker who went into print. I was a community worker who went into broadcast. Neither of us had a formal qualification in journalism but there the similarity ends. He drank with, knew and wrote about people I may have met ‘just the wance’ – scary people. (I knew the footsoldiers).

Now at a time when the McGoverns, the Daniels and the Lyons cause such misery in North Glasgow from their homes in Cumbernauld and Jordanhill, there is a big vacancy, but it’s a serioulsy scary vacancy. Take care, prospective applicants.

I ask you questions, tell you lies, criticise and sympathise Be careful what you wish for friend because I’ve been to hell and now I’m back again…..I feel alright – I feel alright tonight

October 17, 2009

It’s been a wee while since I’ve played Steve Earle, so thanks to David L for the suggestion. Nice also to see Northern Soul Dave back spinning the platters on Radio Six International and maybe I should ask Tony Currie for my own show*. Excellent book on the history of Radio Clyde btw, Tony, altho’ I’ve long given up waiting for my cheque for the stuff I did for Clyde many years ago. Anderston Bus Station – that’s how many years ago.

*Is there internet radio demand for a show featuring angst and addiction rock, I wonder?

I know. It’s not a normal start but at one point I thought this week’s blog would have to be a simple record show cos it was going to be so quiet with so many of my pals away for school and college holidays but the way it worked out can only be described in one word; artyfartyhealthythingymybobbity.

The arty part could well have been vampires cos news programmes tell me they’re sexy again. Well, the slayers always have been. Torrance. So near but yet so far. So good? So safer.

No. I’ll give you an example. On Tuesday I was at an NHSScotland (sic) seminar and I met a community artist called Claire (No. Not that that Clr. Nor indeed the other Claire). This Claire can’t practise her Art for health reasons. So, obviously, she gave me a lift up the road. To Summerston.

And then……she’d never been in my ASDA. And so it was, dear listener, that Tuesday afternoon was spent giving this Claire a guided tour of my local supermarket. I know how to give a girl a good time. (Call your it’s) Oh, and this Claire is getting married next year. Her bridesmaid’s called Claire as well. 😀 Moving swiftly on. To Wednesday.

And this was the day the surveyor was due to see whether the new windows in the flat where I flat sit were working. (To the taxman: Yes, some money does go into one of my six bank accounts but it’s only to cover the gardening and cleaning costs and is well within the Legg Guidelines. Honest….just in case)

Well his visit took longer than expected. He’s also a part-time lecturer at the School of Art, and maybe this is this week’s serious stuff, except…….

Y’see, he’s had two cancers to my one. And this is the bit that’s sometimes difficult to explain. The laughter. So he’s telling me about getting some of his vocal chords cut out to stop the cancer spreading, and I’m laughing my head off and then, well that’s the words he says, ‘And then…….’ and at this point I hit the floor and roll about laughing. He’d also had a cancerous kidney removed. 😀 😀

People used to say to me how positive I was. Naw. That sounds like biting your lip and putting on a brave face. Maybe for me, C, the mantra became Find The Fun. And then…….. Keep It.

I did. And so have many others. So mega ta. 🙂

Moving even more swiftlier on.

To several of my student and former student friends; hamsters do get pregnant and they do have lots of little hamsters; To Jaymi, well done for abseiling across the River Forth for the Chest, Stroke and Heart people; And to the blogmeister’s wean, ‘Happy Birthday Ali’…a bit belated but October is a busy birthday month. Ami, next door to me for example.

I have what age cannot wither; boyish charm.

Oh, and to all those folk I contacted regarding finding a Cumbernauld flat for filming, I’ll drop some of you a wee note explaining more but if it’s going to happen to the guy who Erik the Floodstalker put me in touch with, then I’ll let some of you know when the party is. 😉

Incidentally, I wrote last week about the importance of contacts? One of the reasons the film production company contacted me was the fact that I write about Cumbernauld occasionally in the blog and it was spotted (seriously)…….I’m now dreading the call from another film company who notice my link to Airdrie and ‘dogging’ contacts. Altho’ as my mate Alan said in a beer garden in Dundee last week; ‘Cross dressing does not make you a transvestite.’ Factoid.

None of that was logical, was it? So what do you follow a non-sequitor with?

To Missie K and the others who tried the Musicians or Serial Killers quiz on Facebook; was that Carlos the Jackal or Carlos Santana, and Frank Sinatra could have been either.

Oh, and interesting conversation down at the cornershop with the rainforestriverman who’s trying to kindle interest in a new product. It looks good. (Technically it’s not product placement, okay?) However, I was overwhelmed by  the fliers you gave me for HP Lovecraft – an author, btw, and not merely an interesting way of passing the time on monthly payments. Tommy T has tentacles everywhere, indeed.

Books are like newspapers; hopefully they will always be with us. Their reading can only be enhanced and encouraged.

As, hopefully, will my screenwriting skills as of Monday evenings. My tutor has written and produced a Tartan Short and directs a daytime soap from time to time; I’m quite nervous. What If I’m asked the last DVD I watched? (For the record, it was resident evil degeneration which seems to be an animation based on a computer game. Blogmeister?)

‘Rothesay – It’s wilder than Millport’ kinda summed up the pub conversation amongst those who didn’t get away this week. L frae Troon seemed to go further afield. So can I just say Happy Holiday (again) to Son Brian and Katie who are off to the States within the next couple of days. 19th October. Big day for lots of people. No. No other reason.

So, on that note, a simple ‘and finally’,…..On Friday I helped a young Korean lady and her wean from Summerston Railway Station to Cessnock Subway Station (it’s a long story but a fun one). I noticed that not once did she take her hand(s) off the buggy. A lesson to be learned, Australian lady?

cya

johnt850

And a kinda apology to some Motherwell fans who I described last week as ‘spliff smoking’ and ‘Buckfast drinking’. I now realise that the spliff was started by a PT fan before doing the rounds. I, of course, simply passed (it on). Sober and solvent free. C’est tout que je dis. Mais c’est bon, n’est-ce pas?

Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it’s not for days And the people I meet always go their separate ways. Sometimes you tell the day by the bottle you drink And times when you’re alone all you do is think

October 10, 2009

And according to Facebook that was my eighties song, but it’s also an album I have on cassette in the back bedroom. Interesting exploring (including Metallica, blogmeister), and that was Bon Jovi in case you hadn’t noticed. The album? Slippery When Wet. (It’s not about the weather, is it?)

So, as many people suspected, part of last week was about a BBC board. It wasn’t for a job, as many people might know it, but it was for work there and I won’t know until the end of October, so I’m not going to be stupid. It was nice in itself to be on a shortlist of twenty out of hunners. 🙂

I have lots of contacts; I have lots of friends; I have plenty to offer to open minds. You’ll never know if you don’t ask.

Loads of thanks to folk who offered advice in advance or recognised me although I didn’t recognise them on the day. Special thanks to an unknown mystery woman who helped me with the General Knowledge quiz I’d to do (I was stuck with three and she went and got the answers, but got one badly wrong I now realise). 😦

Special thanks to another mystery woman (who I know but good looking, spoken for and likes jazz) who met me after the board and poured coffee down my throat and listened to a load of jibber jabber. It should be stressed that the coffees that she and BBC Al bought for me came out of their own pockets. Well not the actual coffee itself, but the money.

BBC Al doesn’t even have a swear box, but he does have one helluva view. I’ve always liked Ros. Is she……..?

And special thanks as well to bestest friend Caitlin who, once again, had to put up with my narkiness on the day itself. And I meant what I said. 😉

Okay, that’s me back in the room, if I have any listeners still left. Let’s do normal blogging stuff for a minute. Albeit unwittingly.

I have no sympathy for the 69 year old lollipop man who got sacked for giving primary school kids High Fives and sweets. He should have been concentrating on getting them across the bloody road! I bet the teachers are glad to see him go. He claimed parents said he was the highlight of the kids’ day.

And,I’m not being ageist. I intend to be 42 for the rest of my rolling five years. Can I just say that I chose this age, not ‘cos of the Douglas Adams book, but because of an Alabama 3 track in which it’s claimed that 41 is close to getting measured for ‘the box’.

But I’m also doing some (paid) training work with regeneration agencies and I spent some time last week with a group of trainees who I’ll be doing more with later in the month. A really diverse group who invited me to the pub after the session. I declined on the grounds that I was flatsitting for new windows being put into a flat for someone who doesn’t live in Glasgow and they asked for the address on the grounds that it sounded ideal for a party……… 🙂

And rainforestriverman, you’ll never guess. Two of the trainees……….

Incidentally, rrm, I know loads of people with birthdays round the middle of  October. I’ll have four please. Just deduct the cost from my retainer.

Tommy T has tentacles everywhere, but John-Paul, I believed what you said about native North Americans not being frightened of heights. Mind you, Dundee home to the Discovery, is a long way to go to get beat – again – altho’ the spliff smoking, Buckfast drinking Motherwell fans who got on at Stirling were a good laff, but I will have a hangover tomorrow.

The contacts thing is interesting…..just in case…..for students of journalistic ethics. I was on a train sitting across from one of Scotland’s top political print journos and he was on the phone and he was dishing the dirt on the candidates for Glasgow North East (I thought everyone knew that candidate was lesbian. Serioulsy).

So, as soon as I could, I passed on details of the conversation to a student journo who pays his way through Uny (with a ‘Y’) by paid freelance work. It’s how I work. I’ll get a ‘drink’ back.

I like my women like I like my coffee; in a large mug with one sugar.

Speaking of which, Good Luck to Jaymi who’s abseiling for the Chest, Heart and Stroke charity from one of the Forth Bridges. Hope she chooses the right one. Saturday mornings may never be the same again! All donations, obviously……

Oh, and the screenwriting class I was going to at Glasgow Uny was cancelled but some nice folk at Strathclyde found me a new one. I still think the basic story is a good one, as clrly, do the others who were involved in the writing and the idea is to add, not just fictional romance  (but not in a Woody Allen way but more Doctor Who, with me played by Johnny Depp), but other peoples’ stories as well.

Like last week, I was talking to another alkie who’d gone through the cancer experience (I think I hold the Scottish record for being the youngest to have both confirmed within the one year. I think I’l keep it, rather than anyone else going through what I went through) People like him and me recognise each other. There’s a kinda code similar to the skippering marks you see in places.

He was a practising policeman and part-time taxi driver and alkie drinker, all at the same time, and has millions of stories to tell.

But, like so many former police, Special Branch and SAS men I have met over the years, he claims to have been on duty the night the Duke of Edinburgh entertained a Lady friend overnight on the Royal Train in Glasgow Central Station in what must be the best known secret bonk in the history of secret royal bonking.

I’m not sure how I can use that, but then again I’m not sure how you get Glasgow Central Station closed overnight just so you can, well, bonk. It must be contacts.

cya

Young Johnt850, and well spotted Vampire Slayer,…..and Missie K, you were beaten fair and square but to take it that personally?

Oh, and Sir Jimmy Saville does have good lawyers………..No. No reason. No end of that story.

Notice that my eyes have been A misty place since Saturday Brings a feeling we might lead The fire engines anyway……..Run and get the fire brigade Get the fire brigade See the buildings start to really burn

October 3, 2009

The Move. Some people might recognise the context but don’t jump to any conclusions because all will be explained later when I do the serious stuff. ‘Cos I’m not my usual self this week. (Can I just say your uniform looked good….suits……do they still do the tunnels?……cos they are really scarey…..and it’s still your call) Moving slowly on. 🙂

Y’see, I’ve got kinda work interviews coming up – not jobs but possibly more regular income than at present – and I want to be judged purely on work stuff. And I know that some folk out there don’t like us alkies. 😦

When I first returned to my previous employment after Cold Turkey Sunday I was told by some folk higher up the management chain that alkies were ‘scum’ and that sooner or later they couldn’t cope and would relapse. Always on a 1:2:1 basis. But I’ve spoken of my Get It Right Up You attitude before. So I’m happy to move on. I wish they would. Almost three years since you ask. So far, so good.

But what can I write about if I avoid so much of the obvious?

I could do the ‘in’ stuff and say to Missie K….that record title you and I were discussing during the week? You’d be amazed how many different songs have that title. No. No reason. Arrange that reunion, get me drunk and I might tell that story, the one I never tell. 😉

And Vampire Slayer? A simple Phwoar! will suffice, I think. Keep the pics coming. I must get a new one. Of me, that is. Cya soon.

Or I could do this week’s Well Done Awards a wee bit earlier. Normally it would go to Son Brian for passing yet more exams, but it’s going to bestest friend Caitlin for designing and writing a newsletter for the charity www.thedaviecoopercentre.org/

Check it out. But I’m biased. Caitlin’s family is the second bestest in the entire world. Waifs and strays adopted while you wait; basically me. 😀 😀 😀

Or I could pretend to be a political blog and say, ‘I can exclusively reveal that the date of the General Election will be Thursday, 6th May 2010.’ Except it’s not exclusive. William Hill’s have already stopped taking bets. Well, they didn’t take mine.

Sarah Brown (Gordie’s wife)….she’s why the glass ceiling still exists.

Or I could mention my social life and say that I was out with the guys from Planet Holyrood and had a very pleasant time in Rufus T. Firefly’s (which is soooooo me, dark and gothic) Except I felt old. For a forty two year old, I felt old.

Not because I was with people younger than me (and I know people younger than them who are Rufus regulars, yah, boo, so you might know them too). No. It was a poster. There. A poster. For a band called New Model Army. FFS (Sorry Tommy T…..No. No relation) I was brought up on them. Kinda. They are still touring.

So I rushed home, and looked through my cassettes (small boxes, with tape, about the size of a box of Swan Vestas) and there it is, NMA – The Independent Years.  I also found a cassette entitled Led Zeppelin in Concert – A Copy of the Original Concert (1969). So, there you go. If I was recording tapes at age 2 then clrly, you could be climbing trees at age 4. You win that one as well.

Or I could rant, and maybe Tommy T is with me on this one as well. Does no-one know Latin these days? The correct abbreviation of university is ‘uny’. The word ‘uni’ is a prefix meaning one, as in unicycle.

Mind you, I heard a BBC person complaining that ASDA George’s new range of clothing would have sizes in Latin but how wld ppl kno wot was ment? Gah!!!!!!

X = 10. II = 2. Therefore XII = 12. IV = 4. Therefore XIV = 14. VI = 6 . Therefore XVI = . Och, do that one yourselves. I could rant, but I can’t be bothered. XL, in clothes sizes btw, does mean Extra Large and not size 40………just in case.

I used to know a bankrobber we called The Clydesdale Bank One. He didn’t use a balaclava. He used a scam that the banks copied in recent years. He always bought his round. We drank it, albeit unwittingly, until his day at the High Court.

These are the kind of people I know so I smile benignly when I hear student journos talk about three hours ethics classes. Most of my life was spent in live broadcasting. Was Andy Marr (and his production team?) right to ask the PM about his alleged pill popping? I think so. And it was denied. It is now a matter of record.

Maybe I could do a bit of namedropping and say I was in Beanscene just off Byres Road this morning and Frankie Boyle walked in with child (!) but I ignored him cos I was sitting talking to a Scottish Hockey International but when a former Professor of Communication and Media from Glasgow Caley Uny walked in I said Hi. This guy was one of the best contacts/sources/guides I ever had. Every journo needs some of those and No, I’m not making a point. Honestly.

Or what about the football, jt, I hear you say? Well plucky PT managed to defeat Airdrie United (Death to the Diamonds) by all of two goals to nil, altho’ it did help when one of their players got sent off. Our massed voices were led by three year old Ruby, a denizen of Dennistoun, who singled handedly forced the feared Section B to leave with their tails unfurled between their legs. Em, she didn’t come to the pub with us. Her mum collected her after the game.

Oh, and a quick word to the wise to the PT directors. Those new camouflage tops for away games, the purple and black numbers? Like, they’re only camouflage if they’re on a shelf of lifesize Blackcurrant Tango cans.

So, and finally, to the serious point of it all except I can’t remember how I was going tie it all up with the fire fighter stuff at the top. Mind you listening to it all again, before I sign the compliance form, maybe I’ve already made the serious point plus I can keep it fun, eh, C?

cya

Johnt850

Oh, the Jimmy Saville story from last week? (I’ve met him. Horrible man) The radio station that introduced me to real music was the late, great Radio Luxemburg and all their programmes used to be of fifteen minutes’ duration sponsored by record companies.

Saville used to have a prog called The Under The Bedclothes Club (seriously. And this in a week when I watched the movie Lolita. No. No connection)

Well,….what? Word count again? Already? I don’t bel…PIP PIP PIP PIP PIP PIIIIIP