All of a sudden I’m overcome by a feelin’ of brief mortality, Cos I’m gettin’ on the world, Coming up on forty-one years, Forty-one stony gray steps towards the grave, You know the box awaits its grissly load……

And that dear listener is why, on this weekend, when I celebrate the fact I was born – and may have died on 10th/11th December 2006 – is why, when I have to define myself by a number (age), I made the decision to remain 42 for the rest of my life; grammatically erroneous and nothing to do with Douglas Adams and the meaning of life.

And such random jottings may explain why, this week, when I was in the school library and had to ask a question of a specific lady librarian, she looked up and muttered the immortal words; ‘oh, it’s you.’ They didn’t exactly scan the horizon for Study Buddie Fi, but it’s a different place from the one where we were continuously told off.

I have to work there as the library on the t850 estate (just above the west wing) was burned down in the strange fire of recently. Times had been hard and I’d had to lay the groom off (and Skippy has just prevented me from the obvious sentence involving the maid) but the unexpected insurance money was very helpful.

However work has started on planning the Domination degree and it may be easier than I thought. Twice I have typed in certain keywords such as stigma and alcoholic and twice I have been offered, on Google, this blog. The worrying thing is that somewhere in the world, I may be quoted as an expert on the subject. Naw. I just suffered abuse when I returned to work from my own breakdown.

And I sit in a seat which gives me a good view of the entrance area where a flyer for the business – www.thewordprocess.net – is on a door. And I saw someone look at it. And they read it. No. They haven’t been in touch. Yet. But for someone as modest as me it has been jolly exciting. And I smuggled a hot drink in when no-one was looking. I am that kinda hellariser,

Incidentally, Sharon, I was invited to a fourball in Fife. I thought there was something fishy about it. I don’t play golf. So I didn’t see any point in agreeing to play a round

And mention of Fi…..there was a piece in the Record of Daily about a couple of ppl on that flight from Papa Westray who had to leave the plane cos the wind was blowing in the wrong direction. Apparently the tea room wasn’t open until 11 am. If this happens to you, do what we did. Go to the youth hostel. It’s always open and it has a kettle. I have a photo of that kettle. Iam that kinda hellraiser.

And can I say welcome back from holiday to e and AJ. And can I say ‘sorry’ to AJ for tripping over the names of those dinosaurs towards the end of the afternoon but it is a long time since I have spent over two hours reading out loud. 🙂

And finally, my own personal well dones to the Vampire Slayer, Missie K and Blondie – three survivors of the Sticky Toffee Pudding Nite but now graduates summa cum laude 😀

Cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? Yup. It’s maybe why I don’t do cord cutting.

Johnt850, who has just discovered an Alabama 3 album he doesn’t have. This may be my own personal way of celebrating the fact that I was born.

So I was going to do the serious bit below the line looking at my recent visit to the cancer centre and a minor scan I had for a problem that goes back to the GP who may wish to refer me to….anyway.

I visited the brand new Maggie’s Centre at Gartnavel. Maggie’s, for those who don’t know, is a caring organisation for ppl with cancer concerns. It is well funded and well loved with many ppl raising funds for it. It is an amazing building costing millions but offering hope for all those who pass through the doors with whatever their cancerly problem is.

Earlier this year I spent some time at a drop-in centre for alcoholics and other ppl with dependency problems. In Bridgeton. It was half a church hall with indoor bowling, table tennis table and pool table; a couple of old computers and a cup of tea. It’s open seven days a week. I’m going to need discipline for the Domination degree. It’s meant to be academic and not about my prejudices. 

But I mentioned it to a nurse and she was minded of a time when she did her training at Yorkhill Sick Kids where children did not want for toys and then had to spend some time at the ‘lunatic asylum’ that was the then Lennox Castle Hospital (now Celtic’s training ground) which played host to the mentally insane and their families but without toys…….the haves and have-nots are not restricted to the bankers and their Tory friends.

Thanks to Ewen for suggesting this closing music. Maybe some of it’s a message………..I am that kinda hellraiser.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4iOA-xzl9E&feature=related

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