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

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. 🙂



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

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