Archive for January, 2011

Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be there. Tell me when you’re ready and I’ll show statistically or steady in my mind But tell me when you’re ready. Let’s Go!!!!!!

January 29, 2011

You see, using the lyric as a message only works  if the person to whom it’s addressed recognises it as such and responds. Are you listening, Naomi Campbell?! (The featured artist, btw? The 1990s) And I just happen to think the start of Spring is the perfect time to buy Post-Its (and no other commercially available sticky notepads are anywhere near as good, so up yours Compliance!)

And to all those women out there who think I get people to do everything for me…….No. Not everything. Phwaor. 😉

But there is a spliffing woman in a shop on the Maryhill Road that sews on buttons for me. On my blazer. She’s hot.

But, anyway, I never wanted to work for Sky Sports anyway. Anyway, big man, by the way, Kenny. Totally wizard.

To me, the original bandwagonjumping Sky thing was not about sexism, but minionism; being deliberately derogatory towards someone because they do something below your ‘exalted’ status, or you don’t understand their role in things. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for the porters, auxiliaries, para-medics and nurses of the drying out ward that is Gartnavel General Ward 8a; and that is before I encountered the others who helped me with my cancer.

Skippy, it’s okay. I can compensate for having too many of the yellow ones, by not having so many green ones. I’ll be fine. The rant is over.

No, it’s been a jilly interesting week.

Coffee with the Vampire Slayer, but what is said in the coffin stays in the coffin and your cool mum’s got some awfully interesting friends. And just the right height. And I’m often in that oil and vinegar shop. Have you ever tried to shoplift good virgin olive oil? It’s just so messy.

And Missie K, I often have that sinking feeling but you are my local hero cos you bring me comfort and joy. (Cheesy but good, eh?) And I’ve said this before but my fave bits in Gregory’s Girl apart from Clare Grogan, are the penguin, Chic Murray as the headmaster, Billy Greenlees (?) as the home economics student and Dave Anderson as Gregory’s dad who never sees his son except when he almost runs him down. 😀 Mr Anderson once called Son Brian ‘bambino’.

And to my ex-wife/son’s mum/accountant….yes, I do know there’s a difference between me slow cooking something and me accidentally switching the cooker off, but I admire your perspicacity when, on being told that a mutual friend (therainforestriverman) was a year or so younger than me, you replied; ‘What? He’s only 41? He looks so much older’.

No. No reason.

And in these non-sexist days can I re-assure e that, that afternoon in Hillhead Library, I did not go to the window with AJ and look at the nice ladies and say, ‘Six out of ten. Seven out of ten. I would. I have.’

And I just wonder what I would shout if it was a female assistant referee at Firhill one Saturday afternoon or might I get away with it because of the post-modernist irony involved? Or a man with a bald head.

And don’t ask me about Michelle Mone’s request to keep her private life well, private, in the five part story of her life in this week’s Times of Evening. Has she done Loose Women yet?

Sorry. I don’t know quite why I’m in a bit of a mood like this, cos it’s been a good week in many ways. I just don’t see sexism as ‘the last taboo’ but then maybe it’s because I, as an alcoholic, was called ‘scum’ to my face cos of that (but I think I’ve proved that person wrong as an individual) but I know how disparaging others are towards those of my ilk – have you ever described someone as ‘a bit of an alkie’? I know I used to. Then I became the full monty.

No. I don’t mean I dressed up as a fireman, Sam, and took all my clothes off to a crowd of baying women – and a very strange man standing on his own in the back row with his hands in his pockets.

And finally, I do not look like John Bishop. I am much better looking, amn’t I girls? 😀

cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? Yes.

‘Sorry? What does the badge say?’ Sex God. And it was bought by a woman. A very intelligent woman. And fit. Very.

What?…… She runs. Okay? What did you think I meant? Jeeeez! But she is that as well.

Johnt850, with Jon Hamm’s jawline, Jude Law’s nose and the hair of George Clooney.

Y’see I saw a BBC 3 prog during the week about a twenty one year old woman described as ‘Britain’s biggest alcoholic’ – a title she received after being banned from every pub in England and Wales. It was about how she turned her life around with the help of a private clinic in Portugal and how she came out determined to stay sober for the rest of her life. For a twenty one year old, that’s one helluva big decision.

But I was saying to folk that what marked such an amazing feat for me was the difference to her skin and her hair when she came out of re-hab; she looked so much better. For me, it was my nails. On my hand.

No. Sexism is not the last taboo. Being judgemental without hearing the evidence is far worse. I’m not defending Keys and Gray. Far from it. I just wish I’d heard the Assistant Referees’ Association asking what TV commentators actually know about the offside rule. I think the right target was hit, but not for the right reason.

But in conclusion, and with absolutely no connection, really well done to the gorgeous Ms W, (and I would clean out the shed first. Honest. Or I could get a second shed. Or I could get a second opinion. The blogmeister’s. A pic of my shed will be winging its way to him soon time)

Anyway, W, I know that one of your, em, ensemble has not been well recently. This is for him. It’s hardcore; it’s heavy; it’s slammin’; it’s outrageoulsy sexist; it’s the original; but it’s still the best!

do you ever question your life? do you ever wonder why? do you ever see in your dreams all the castles in the sky….?

January 22, 2011

And that’s Castles in the Sky from Jan van Dahl off the album, Trance Nation, and Parfery person, Deadmau5 is dead famou5 in clubbing circles and see when (eh?) you’re next at my house you won’t believe the changes. To the record collection. Or the wallpaper. Or the carpet. Or the back bedroom. Even the food’s different. I’ll stop there and make a proper start, shall I?

Hello Paisley, and what a beautiful city in which to situate a university……..conditionally speaking.

The mock shop frontages giving a hint of what might be there one day with large adverts of what a department store looks like;  the Red Indians (or native Americans) playing music in your streets; and a University full of posters for a damn fine and excellent dissertation and essay editing service called – so good but yet such value for money. Thanks Sunny D.

And the ASDA in Bearsden is selling Santa Claus outfits for just two pounds.

Which brings us to the question of plagiarism. No. No reason. Apparently the number of students cheating is on the increase. Once again I have turned down work where the intent was to beat the plagiarism software. But I have high standards.

I get annoyed, for example, when a Channel 4 programme called The Joy of Teen Sex plans to interview two twenty-year-olds……..see what I mean?

And I found myself (well, I knew I was going) at a Health Fayre (sic) – see serious bit below the line – and I have become (as a pescatarian) one of these people who lifts up the top bit of bread on buffet sandwiches to see what is underneath… one case, just coleslaw….. but I was not alone.

One of the nicer aspects of these events is that most health stands are ‘staffed’ by women. Male managers think it’s beneath their dignity to meet the people they’re supposed to be helping. So, if I’m on my own at these things, and it’s quiet, I tend to buddy up.

Hi, vegetarian Kerry, and thanks for the free RNIB ice scraper. Hope you liked your Prostate Cancer pen and keyring. She used to be an optician – but is still a sight for sore eyes. 😉

Which brings us to the question that the gorgeous Miss W and I need to resolve. And I think most of you know to what I’m alluding. So let’s cut to the chase. (I just hit the ‘e’ really hard there in a decisive alpha male kinda way. It hurt). Anyway here goes;

How the hell do you get acute accents and other squiggly things above french letters in an e-mail? How do you make tres, tres, if you know what I mean? I’ve used every colour of my eyeliners but all it does it make the screen messy. Any suggestions for us?

 And, hey, I am the moderator.

Actually, I’m terrified that two people, miles apart, have described me and this blog as ‘coherent’ It worries me………..Skippy, we need to do something and do it soon. I need to get out more. As do some other people.

Actually after a rubbish social life before Christmas, signs of things picking up but the diary remains flexible and there is little owed to the credit card. (Wonder if there’s any age limits on eligibilty for student loans?)

Rocha John Rocha, what a nifty designer, btw, full of street cred – a phrase used in this week’s List magazine to describe A Toast to Burns in Edinburgh’s Corn Exchange and it’s a fundraiser for Children 1st.

Altho’ being honest, the shirt was a pressie; the denims half-price Debenhams sale; and the Next jacket was from the Next warehouse down Clydebank way – last year’s style, but I wear it well. A little ‘old-fashioned’ but that’s all right. Especially on icy late night walks. I should have waited longer tho’. 😦

And a few bits’n’pieces; Well done to Jayne for becoming one of the River City People (a well known band from the nineties); to the various people I’m meeting up with this week including a woman who’s supposed to be giving me money just before I meet the Vampire Slayer so I’ll be able to pay this time (mmmm, not sure about that line……maybe re-write); and Missie K, I saw your Facebook about being back at uny – tell me about it. Please. Will I need lots of stationery?

This is River City People

She’s hot.

So, and finally, as some of you know and others are about to find out – either in person, by mail, by Facebook or whatever, and everyone else hopefully soon time – I may have taken a very tentative step on a strange journey. Always there seems to be an amazing support team goes with me on these things. I would like to begin this journey by thanking the staff of Jellyhill in Hyndland for allowing me my fantasy of being a top Hollywood director, but that guy with the Apple laptop did not buy a coffee all the time we were in. 

And thin lady, blue top, blonde hair. late thirties………you’re cast.

But I’d like to thank Planet Holyrood Al (as opposed to BBC Al) for a handy list of study hints (No, I’m not sure why either :D) including the unexpected parallel between the basic prostate cancer test and essay writing. Who’d have thought it, eh?

cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? I got it MOT’d at the same time as the car this week. They both passed. Cool, no problem.

Johnt850, 😀 😀 😀 this week 😀 😀 😀 selfishly

And I was at this Health Fayre and a lot of women come up rather than men, and I do sometimes feel I’m too chirpy but I’m that kinda person, but I’m a good listener – I can handle it.

Except for this story – and I won’t tell it all cos that would be wrong – but maybe sometimes I need to have the smile wiped off my face. Especially when the prostate cancer terminal prognosis relates to a young woman’s dad. His age? 57. She and I hugged. I then went out and cried.

This is Half Man Half Biscuit. No. No connection. To anything.

Rubies and pearls, Treasures of the nights, Staying in a room, Watching figures of ice You can have them all You can have them all Tell me all about it.

January 15, 2011

And I just think it’s important to make sure people drive safely particularly as I was doing so when I had the black ice incident, and I know there’s no (obvious) connection to the music but in a week when Malaysian Ruth describes my blog as giving her the feeling of ‘chatting to that part of you (me?) that is forever a drunken Weegie at 4 o’clock in the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon……rambling and bonkers but not in a bad way’………..well there doesn’t need to be a connection, does there?

Em, was that one of those Sunday nights into Monday mornings we were working together, Ruth? 😉

The band? The Only Ones and I was introduced to them (not personally you understand) during the Summer on one of those wet Summer days, redolent of Gregory’s Girl, that make you want to stand outside in the pouring rain, so you do. And don’t notice the rain. (I get on well with my neighbours; it is pretty private and I was fully clothed. What I was wearing is irrelevant. I was fully clothed).

Anyway to this week’s intrepid exploration in the company of one year old AJ and his mum, e. 😀 (Yes, Kenny the Shed Pimp, that’s who I was with. Omg, the West End’s a small place. That’s how everyone knows I had chips in Queen Margaret Drive back of eleven Tuesday night). To get new shoes. For AJ. I’m working class. I wrap cloths around my feet. We (eh?)  decided to walk. Along the canal. Well, actually on the path that goes along the canal. The canal path.  Altho’ it was still possible to walk across it. Were you foolish enough.

What I think I’m saying is that even during the week, when the forecasts were of thaw and slush and rain, one part of Glasgow was still in thrall to shit, sorry, sheet ice, and getting up that wee hill back onto Cleveden Road reminded me of a drunken Weegie going home on all fours at four o’clock on a Sunday morning. Long time ago.

Oh, and AJ didn’t need new shoes after all, but he did get a red balloon, leaving only ninety-eight. And to save you racking your brains, it was Nena and it was (spookily) 1984 (V: The Final Battle). Except this is from 1983. And, yes, she is hot. And, yes, it takes a few seconds to get going……(unlike me)

And whilst I remember, I was going to mention something about my wardrobe to the gorgeous W. 😀  On that side over there, there are three piles of t-shirts. Been there, seen it, done it…..and over there, in that corner, is the famous sweatshirt worn on Cold Turkey Sunday with one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse still in  it which is why I can’t throw it away.

And the movie it was a freebie from? Interview with a Vampire, which is why there was a need for a Slayer who was found, when the blog started, by the blogmeister. Now, does it make sense? (Actually, if it does, then you have serious problems and I’ll send Skippy over, shall I? Her vegetarian risotto is to die for. With truffles) 

And speed is not essential but it does help. (Which is one of those lines which terrifies my alter ego when he wanders through to the production suite at about five in the morning to see only an empty bottle of Volvic with strawberry where once I sat.)

And wouldn’t it be funny if you were reading one of those postcards the police were giving out down the ASDA that say ‘Whilst you’re distracted, who’s watching you?’ and your wallet was nicked? 😦

And speaking of ice, ice baby…..(but not the Jedward version), to Falkirk on Tuesday night, to the football stadium that is Westfield, and won’t it be nice when it’s finished. Four pounds to get into the car park, fifteen pounds to get into the match, so wouldn’t it be nice to get a student concession into these things? Something worth thinking about, maybe, but can anyone out there tell me how you get a job like being a sandbagger or sandbagger’s mate? Not only does it look a really great job, but the uniform looks simply amazing. So flash.

And finally a quick thanks to L frae Troon 😀 for sharing her New Year resolutions with me and I wish her all success. Oh, and thanks to her and a couple of others for help with this week’s resolutionary riddle. It meant a lot.

My own resolutions are changing; JCB is evolving but I’ve no real news, but if one of them actually comes off, then I may be facing a really interesting, hopefully, change of direction and there are hunners of you out there with much more recent experience (in oh, soo many ways) than me. Your doors will be knocked.

And finally W kindly kinda directed me in the direction of this, indirectly. I never found The Two Ronnies that funny, but always very clever. However this is funny and there was almost a txtual version of this Tuesday morning when my fingers were hot but by the time the game came, Dougie, they were iceness personified.


Cya, keep(ing) it fun and slitl wringea hatt bgeda? Ouy btchae (it’s a typo gag)

Johnt850, aka Judge Jules, Pete Tong and Deadmau5 in one incredibly lithe body

So, I’ve just finished listening to an amazing radio documentary made for RTE made by a friend. It considers the deaths associated with two fishing boats off the coast of Donegal – one of those deaths was that of her dad. I’m meeting her later this week.

It is a very personal journey and I know how hard it is to make, however professionally it’s done, a documentary so close to a personal experience.  I didn’t broadcast my tears. Mine were spilt elsewhere. Plus I come from a fishing town.

So lots of memories this week beginning with the sweatshirt but life goes on and if you want to see me, then this week I’m doing a Prostate Cancer Awareness stand at the Glynhill Hotel in Paisley on Tuesday.  But my diary stays sooo flexible at other times. I’m handy. Try me.

Drain the pressure from the swelling, This sensation’s overwhelming, Give me a long kiss goodnight and everything will be alright. Tell me I won’t feel a thing. So give me Novocaine.

January 8, 2011

On Thursday morning my life flashed in front of me. In the shape of a Chunky Chips lorry. Serioulsy. It’s a bend that for me curves to the right. Between ASDA and the railway station. The lorry was on the other side of the road. Then it wasn’t. Its brakes didn’t hold. It just kept going. Straight in front of me. My ten year old Megane held the turn. Missed the lorry. Just. Had I kept going on the black ice, my bonnet would have ended up undeneath the van. Me and the windscreen wouldn’t have. We’d’ve gone straight into the lorry. Sorry. That should have read. The windscreen and me. 

Everyone was okay. I’m often violently sick at the side of the road. Well not that much recently. Minutes later going back that way I saw that a single decker bus had also gone the same way as Mr Chunky Chips (That’s the one the Police were called to) and it was the bus that demolished the metal railing. I think.

For me it all happened too quickly to be frightened but I’d like to thank Kenny the Shed Pimp who witnessed the whole incident for pointing out that had I been a second earlier the lorry would have smashed slap bang into me on the driver’s side. With friends like that…….. 😦

Brilliant, eh? After everything that’s happened to me over the last four years it would have been a sodding chip van that finally got me, but what a quick and easy way to go. And not even my fault. Ho and hum. I won’t sleep tonight. Pfft………

At this point I would like to thank Green Day for spending most of Thursday with me and all the above was actually written on Thursday itself. Oh? Was it that obvious? I hadn’t realised.

Altho’ two days later, I have slept. I have slept with worse demons in the past. (I’ll review that line later. No. No reason) But it kinda soured what was a good start to the year; if you feel that a dozen bells can be an instant transformation to your lives. (That’s a reference to the New Year Chimes and not what I used to drink).

JCB, for example, is not an Excel spreadsheet gameplan for life but is a general thought and I’m working towards certain elements of it as thoughtfully and as plannedly as anything I do. Which is random. My life’s planning is an 18p ASDA notebook carried in my back pocket.

So, let’s keep house.

Many people were ecstatic (?) with their awards last week and, yes, W, your kyebaord swa a cntoendr (sp), as was Gordon Brown’s resignation and, indeed, blogmeister, your 30th was also in the running and apologies to Dougie for missing the other night but too much happened at the one time the other night.

A couple of matters arising;

The rrm was featured in the retail trade and English based press for a couple of reasons and says thanks for good wishes. I’ve been asked what he was like at University. Modest, hard-working, a born leader of men and NEVER ONCE PICKED UP ANY OF MY EX-GIRLFRIENDS ON THE REBOUND.

Skippy, stop playing those bloody drums.

And there’s also been a few enquiries from new listeners about the Vampire Slayer.

She’s intelligent and beautiful in a youthful way which belies her age of many hundred of years with all the Gothic wisdom that implies and her tireless battle against those blood suckers who seek to pervert all that is good about humanity (and Starbucks in Buchanan Galleries would be fine but any other suggestions are welcome. Oh, and bring a friend.)

‘Cos there are many aims to the blog, new listeners (which was viewed 9,100 times last year). I use it to flirt, to remind people I’m still alive and desperate to meet up with folk ‘cos otherwise I atrophy, and I like meeting new folk as well, which was why Thursday afternoon was good. I met up with some like minded people in a cosy room at Glasgow University.

I don’t know if you saw the Tommy Sheridan doc on BBC Scotland a few weeks ago. They did a re-construction of the swingers’ club it looks as if Tommy did attend after all. Well, it was nothing like that. It was a lot warmer.

So when I issue invites via Facebook and mail and stuff. I mean them. I’ve even got Son Brian’s mum and her man coming over soon time before they head South to a former penile colony (note to self – check spelling b4 publication). There’s a brilliant grand daughter out there whom I last met on the day of Gordon Brown’s resignation (and some times blog randomness looks planned but it isn’t)

Also, I use it to say thanks; to the brilliant family with whom I spent Hogmanay who catered beautifully for my pescatarian tastes but I stood too close to the bagpiper; to KT for her interesting views on roadkill, and the deer in the cemetary were a missed opportunity; to Missie K and her colleagues in the libraries for their help with BBC Book Days (Be a Giver. I’ve applied.) ; and to Jaymi, to whom, when I said  ‘nice smell of bacon’, replied, ‘you’re a pescatarian, jt, you’re not allowed any.’

So, there you go….much more thoughtful than I intended, if indeed I intended anything. So, there’s one award still to be collected but it can probably wait until better weather, even with Christmas paper wrapping. For a puppy, it’s very quiet. (I’m trying out material for my new C4 show, Zoladex Nights.)

cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? Yes. It’s on Page 2 of the notebook. 

Johnt850, nothing and no-one’s going to stop me rolling the way i want to roll ‘cos i’m hard-wired to randomness.

Actually, if there is any kinda thought for 2k11, as I saw it written somewhere, it is the wise words of Paul Weller;

‘Some people get to a certain age and feel they’re defined; this is who they are. It hasn’t got to be that way.’

No. No message. 😀

Well it starts like a roller coaster ride. So real it takes your breath away…….Your ride changes your outside view, While it glides like a neon ray, And you find you don’t have to search for words, For there’s nothing to be said

January 1, 2011

And whilst it’s Carnival time in Glasgow, in t850 Towers it’s Annual Awards time and the music getting the event underway there is by the amazing Roky Erikson and the 13th Floor Elevators – the pioneers of Texas psychedelic rock from the Sixties, sounding like the Yardbirds on acid, a description which they would love, and my Chrissie pressie to myself was a boxed set of their music. They are this year’s band of the year, which is not an actual category.

So as the glitteratti take to their seats, being given their complementary quorn sausage roll by the indefatigable Skippy, safe from the paparazzi outside, let me remind you that the previous winners of the actual Personality of the Year Award have been a three year old daughter of a BBC mate (she got a kite) and a phone call made from Italy by two beautiful women who from time to time get me (I think they’d rather have the kite) on an invidual basis. 😀

Can I have a drum rool please? and quotes given. No. No reason. Right the first award is the Lifetime Achievement Award. One previous winner was Son Brian for his amazing patience where I’m concerned so it’s with great pleasure it goes to his namesake, the RainForestRiverman (to give him his Sunday name).

Not only has this man, whom I’ve known since University days, shown amazing patience in recent years as well (a recurring theme where I am concerned) but this year he took it all one stage further. Every so often, when he travelled up to Glasgow on business, he would casually drop into the conversation the name of the hotel he was staying at and showed no surprise the next morning when I turned up clad in black looking a bit (of) rough and claimed to know him – jt850 the breakfast blagger.

I even ate at the same table. Occasionally. I think the only time it didn’t happen was when you had your daughters with you. Wonder why……so loads of applause, please……and have a Good Year, rrm, in 2011, or a Michelin or a Continental…..

And so, to Team of the Year and despite a late arrival from the Royal Mail, there can only be one winner. My amazing support team is mentioned so often and did win this award once before so it has to be somebody new. For all their incredible support during this year, there can be only one winner……it has to be The Ladies who work in the ASDA Summerston, in particular one Sunday morning conversation. Wow. That really was amazing.

But who to accept the award? Could it be Jaymi, Liz, Dawn or even Susan (…………). No. step forward Sunny D (hey, you wanted a blog name, Dani……what do you reckon?)  and please pass on my best wishes to all the others……oh, and special thanks to you, D, for flyering Paisley Uny. Could be good.

Oh, the emulsion. Keep the drums going. They keep the headaches away.

So, to the big moment but as usual – and how I did it at The West of Scotland Film Awards in Prestwick – in reverse order – but there were only four there, so I’d a third equal.

In Third Place is Robert de Niro and Nelson Mandela who woke up one morning, did a Google search and discovered that they’d been named in the same sentence as my alter ego on stv’s wonderful The Hour, talking about his prostate cancer. I wonder what they thought. I re-ran that bit several times. (And Dennis Hopper (74) died this year of that cancer as did many men, but at least I commemorated him by driving over a castle lawn in June) 

In Second Place (feel the tension) is the amazing Magenta Girl. Where did she come from? Where did she go? And what exactly was she selling at Queen Street Station? Another recurring theme of my life are women who seem to pop in and pop out and to whom I tell the story of my life (maybe that’s why they pop out, jt) and somehow they save me from myself (No. Nothing stronger than rhubarb crumble, since you ask). I would soooo love a proper conversation with the Magenta Girl one day. Any sightings, please let me know.

And finally, as lazy presenters say….to the Blog Personality of the Year Award 2011 (at this point I always do the fanfare of strumpets gag but it never gets a laff).  

Okay, so it’s not quite the gorgeous W (obvious favourite) without whom I would not be an aspiring pescatarian listening to both trance and techno. Another serioulsy WOW statement, but as was blogged earlier this year we went through to the Edinburgh BookFest. Now when you book online, you get a voucher for a glass of Highland Park, which is not much use to a recovered alcoholic like myself and I gave it to W. Yes, I’m all heart. Generous to a fault.

You get a decent sized glass and the colour looked damn fine and excellent and the first sizeable sip was quaffed and a smile broke out. Actually two smiles broke out, but for different reasons, and for me that was the highlight of 2010. Yes, for the obvious reasons of being in a smashing surrounding with a good looking woman but also just a random feeling of calm acceptance of so much (No I haven’t a scooby what I’m talking about either with that last bit, but I’m smiling)

So, this year’s Blog Award Winner is a glass of Highland Park with the prize, hopefully, accepted by my friend W……..

jt850 has quiet sniffle and then bravely says,

‘Salmon vol-au-vents, clucking mackerel sandwiches and herring canapes are being served on the Upper Terrace. Enjoy.’ 

Cya, keep(ing it fun) and still wearing that badge? How can I not be, now?

Johnt850,  where the pyramid meets the eye.

I have no idea what will happen in 2011 but some members of the Inner Council know the random plans (JCB) but others have still to be told. The blog will remain. It started off with the help of the blogmeister and gd frnd Clr as a fun way of telling people about my cancer treatment. It has evolved into a writing discipline with an audience of several hundred.

It’s a way of keeping in touch but nothing can ever replace actual meeting up with people (especially when it’s me you’re meeting) So lots of you can expect wee notes, mail and messages from me over the next few days saying ‘My diary remains flexible……until JCB takes over’  Take care. And ta. Have me now while stocks last.

‘May the circle remain unbroken, may the circle remain unbroken, may the circle remain unbroken’

The lyrics to a song by the 13th Floor Elevators called ‘May the Circle Remain Unbroken’