Reminds me of the first time I went to space. It was such a long journey. It took, hours, days, years. ….That takes me back to the first time I stepped into space. You were there! You were there with all my best friends!

So I went for a curry on Tuesday night (bare with me dear listener. This is no ordinary curry. This is a jt850 curry. Just as this is no ordinary blog. It’s a jt850 blog) with three (male) friends. From a previous Uny. And I thought they’d invited me. But, no….they’d invited my alter ego. The one they’d been at Uny with. I should have realised there might be a problem when I noticed we were sitting at a table for four. So I pulled out a chair for Skippy. At the table beside us. And fed her from my plate.

I managed to hold my own (insert your own single man gag there). I nodded sagely as appropriate (pension? what pension?); I smiled fondly as we discussed characters from the past (who?); and I pretended to be drinking when the number of years married was highlighted (many of mine were reasonably pleasant). But I only came alive when the Vampire Slayer was discussed.

I will bite many bullets but I will not reveal the Slayer’s real identity.

I digress (No. That’s not an apology. That’s my intent) 😀

There is a secret society which originated in the North East of Scotland called The Society of the Horseman’s Word. It’s where the idea of the horse whisperer came from.  It’s one of those societies, apparently, where if you are not an initiate but someone passes on some of the secrets to you, then that transgressor dies.

The person who passed on some of those secrets to me died. Not long after he broke the code. A heart attack. They said.

Now I’m not saying I could stop a rampaging horse and cart down Paisley High Street (I was told a long time ago) but given the right materials I might be able to calm it down. Have a quiet word. That kinda thing.

And spookiness of spookiness, the name of the transgressor arose during the night’s conversation. Skippy and I exchanged worried glances. But no-one noticed. Seriously. He was mentioned.

And thanks for picking up the tab (as in the bill), rainforestriverman. The next one’s on Skippy.

So I enjoyed school this week and I am going back. Well not tonight. I spent Saturday afternoon in the Aragon down Byres Road and I think I was as tomato juiced as a celibate orang-utang. I got one helluva shock when the barman asked if I wanted more Tequila. He meant Tabasco.

And, Missie K, I did not get an alice band. It was too wet. But I love Blondie’s ‘finger in the socket’ image. Actually I must drop her a wee note. Let her know of my services. With discount. 😉

Yeah, I am in school for two days each week (Monday and Tuesday) and the rest is various forms of self-study through the Blackboard (kinda like Narnia’s wardrobe, I suppose) and the library’s in Athens  and it has been pointed out to me that the academic version of ‘critical’ is not to stand there and say ‘that’s f**king crap, man’ and then walk on.

No. They need references. And I don’t think they just want someone to stand there and say, ‘jt knows what he’s talking about and if he says, it’s f**king crap, then it must be.’

Tbh, I would love the first week to have been five days. There was soooooooooo much to take in and soooooo many ppl to meet and I did. And it’s really hard work…….Not that anyone would be jealous of me being at Uny………

And can I just say to my friend and definite colleague, the gorgeous W  that, had the BBC accepted either the prostitute radio programme idea or the Holy Loch one, then the kitchen would have been re-decorated. Now there is no need. What? Take a picture and send it? Idea! But serious thanks. Big help. 😀 😀

And to the equally good looking e……..I think you’ve made the right decision……maybe I was a wee bit jealous …..anyway, Good Call……. 😀

Oh, alphabet time….hang on a second….C is for Codswallop and R is forthe Two Ronnies (they came back this week). If this blog were planned, then I would be aware I have just created an albatross which may well be the elephant that is in the room. For twenty-four weeks.

But one small complaint about school. When I went to dry my hands. After washing them. The side of the dryer said Bunnie,  Hand and Face dryer…….Bunnie?

And why were all the headline writers so coy about the MP’s wife who stole a kitten from her husband’s mistress? Not one headline with the word ‘pussy’ in it. One day I will find Steve Martin’s pussy gag and I will play it.

And finally, I rarely mention football in this show but after Friday’s fantastic five-nil frills at Firhill, I want to mention the man they know as Bean, whose son’s packed lunch for primary school (Glasgow West End, let’s not forget. I have passport) was chorizo, olives and humous. What, said I……’no taramaslata?’ ‘Naw. Can’t afford it and humous ‘cos of the problems with the economy.’

Well, that’s a double dip recession for you……………kerching………..I’m here all week and the salmon’s good.

Cya, keep (ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? I have another from the same source. I must wear it as well.

Johnt850, academic scholar to the Comedy Unit. I must write some words for them soon. Hogmanay approaches.

So five minutes into my first day at school, I outed myself. As an alcoholic. No. No real reason. I don’t believe in horoscopes, so why not? But what I need to do is make sure that my new chums know that I’m quite happy in pubs. Or Starbucks. Or curry restaurants. Skippy doesn’t go everywhere with me.

Now, speaking of alphabets and football, I’ve taken some criticism recently for playing so much house music, so here’s something different. It requires two or three listens and watchings. The opening track was from LCD Soundsystem; this is Half Man Half Biscuit and the Referee’s Alphabet. I like J is for Jew Jitsu.

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One Response to “Reminds me of the first time I went to space. It was such a long journey. It took, hours, days, years. ….That takes me back to the first time I stepped into space. You were there! You were there with all my best friends!”

  1. Dennis Kelly Says:

    Enjoyed the evening John but leave that bloody Skippy at hoem the next time – confused the hell out of me. Take care my friend

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