Dealers keep dealin’, Thieves keep thievin’, Whores keep whorin’, Junkies keep scorin’, Trade is on the meat rack, Strip joints full of hunchbacks, Bitches keep bitchin’, Clap keeps itchin’.

So those lyrics mean that I was at Scotland v the Czech Republic and my father would have found it very difficult to understand that being a song at a Scotland football match.  But, hey, I was with Son Brian and it was a good day celebrating UEFA’s Day of Respect and Fair Play for football around the world. Except for that m******f******g Czech diver, Jan Rezek, in the last minute! It was soooooo f**k**g obvious, Ref!

You, Rezek, let down Vaclav Havel and the whole of the Velvet Revolution of 1989. Which is not the most successful football chant I have ever started.

But I find it jolly interesting that Primal Scream (they sang the opener) have been invited to perform their Ecstacy influenced album Screamadelica at the Edinburgh New Year Celebrations.  I find their acceptance into mainline Scottish life amazing.

Actually it was one of those days when the less said about the game, the better, altho’ it did get off to a good start with alcohol (Son Brian) and fruit juice (jt850) being partaken in Waxy O’Connors and there are still areas in that bar that I do not know exist. Or maybe did and just can’t remember.

Another pre-match drink in the Clockwork Micro-Brewery was knocked on the head (it’s ok…my son does not take after me) by the queue waiting to get in but a big thanks to the promo ladies from Paddy Power who, as well as handing out flyers advertising a free matched bet, were also offering free cheeseburgers. When I explained that I don’t eat meat, the tall blonde one said, ‘Well, just eat the cheese then.’

But it’s been a strange week. For a number of reasons, I tried to chill out and switch off. I can’t. I exist on an edge of insecurity and uncertainty. I am too wired for sound even ‘sober and substance free’. I do too much caffeiene and caffeiene based drinks (That’s not how you spell it, is it?) AND I have too much ‘house’ music pumping through my various sound systems. (The size of my semi varies) I am converted to a sound that I wished I’d discovered a wee while back and it did lead to one of my highlights of the week.

I was cruising the strip (aka the Maryhill Road) in my boyracer (which attracts so many scratches, scrapes and dings that I may have to employ a man to buy T-Cut and apply it for me) when I was stopped at the lights.

The album I’m playing is, like, Clubland Extreme Hardcore, a pretty average selection of Happy Hardcore with a very strong bassline and Roland drum machine reverb, and with the window open, man, like, cos I want to attract attention. I became aware of thumping on the passenger side. In rhythm.  And thumping their fists in the air. It was the local Shiskine Drive Possee. They liked my music selection, man.

I was tempted to pull into the side and have a wee street party, but common sense (aka the lunchtime lollipop lady) prevailed. I drove on. Happy that I was accepted.  

Hey, I’m over 21. I can get into Karbon but would I want to?

Elsewhere, friend and colleague, the gorgeous W has finished her acting stint. For the time being. And I’ve still to catch up on the goss. However, I thought she’d really made the big time the other day when I was in Debenham’s (I like to embarrass the female beauty assistants into giving me free samples for my ‘lady’ friends) and I heard the tannoy anno, ‘Good morning, Gorgeous’. It turned to be an alarm call for a beauty treatment on offer. I found out on ejection.

Where, where, where….?’ I cried……. But to no avail.

And AJ’s mum, e, really tricked me. Into going into Ian Mellis, cheesemonger, and asking if they sold ice cream. Not in Great Western Road they don’t, I found out on ejection. The treat came later when I accompanied them to a Softplay Centre in Maryhill. Always better to go into these places with a child, I find. That way, no ejection. Not this week, anyway.

I’ve never ever been thrown out of places early. I’ve never ever suffered from Premature Ejection.

And finally, my thanks to the Vampire Slayer for a really educational session this week. I learned a lot. About lots of things. I worry should anyone ever eavesdrop. And, yes, I do have this habit of talking to good looking women whom I do not, initially, know. It was her muffin, I noticed.

Cya, keep(ing) fun and still wearing that badge? Yes, eagle-eyed L frae Troon I was. Under the Scotland scarf. Honest.

Johnt850, now sleeping ‘til about 7. I think it was an empathetic thang.

So, it’s generally acknowledged by everyone including music journos, serious sociologists and the band themselves that Ecstacy played a big part in Screamadelica; everyone that is except the Sunday Mail, who today merely made a passing reference to the band as ‘wild party animals’ in the ‘drug fuelled ‘90s’.

Y’see, what concerns me is how the bad reporting of that time reflects our attitudes towards drug use these days.

It’s the word ‘recreational’ that intrigues me. Obvioulsy I’m going to make the point that the majority of Scotland fans were drinking recreationally (apart from the drunk sitting behind me) and that the only addict my son came into contact with was me.

But it was Strathclyde Police’s recent use of the word that I found really interesting. The reason for their Prime Ministerially acknowledged success in dealing with gang violence as opposed to the English forces was the fact that the Unit set up to deal with gangs realised they were dealing with ‘recreational violence’……it was not a way of life.

What am I going to offer as a research project? No. No idea.

This final piece of music is to demonstrate that no matter how successful a piece of music is in highlighting certain brands, some of us will never ever be able to participate in the product.

Alba gu bráth!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6511f4Iol4s&feature=related

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