Young woman stands arms outstretched looking upwards and says, ‘God, you seem to send me nothing but bad going-nowhere guys. Can you not send me somebody nice?’ to which God says, ‘I did. He’s the one you call your friend.’ (Facebook gag)

And so dear listeners, some words of mine that I never thought I’d ever hear;

‘Phwoar…there’s a few new Tory Government ministers I wouldn’t mind in my cabinet.’ 😉

And I was also pleasantly surprised, through Facebook, to learn that I’m not the only one to have enjoyed some very enjoyable conversations with the very enjoyable Michael Gove. This was when I worked for the BBC and he was a leader writer for The Times. We’re both originally from the North East of Scotland but he was, and possibly still is, good company. I abhor the party he represents.

Ah, yes Facebook. I’ll update you on the Commonwealth Games stories they don’t want you to hear later and take you into a pub in Byres Road but first……

I was totally thrown by some techie stuff (as happens to me from time to time, Son Brian) but would like to thank Jenny, Jeanette and the Blogmeister for their help. What they suggested brought the restore ‘button’ back on to my page and it was fine from there but it was because it happened the day after a really frightening incident that unnerved me. 😦

Those of you who know Facebook will know that every so often you are recommended someone that you might want as a friend. Usually it’s because you have lots of mutual friends or there’s something else in common.

Last week I was offered someone who I’d spoken to over four years ago in connection with a possible radio programme on prostitution and when she was mentioned to anyone else it was her first name only. I knew her second name as did the person who introduced me to her. I met her for an hour in a hotel In Bellshill. That was the only contact.

She was recommended to me in her full name.

Someone else who was very helpful at the time was a woman who introduced me to a number of women working as prostitutes. There wasn’t much mention of her either in any ‘paperwork’. She has since (re)married. She was recommended to me in her married name which I did not know but I recognised her.

I don’t care about Logarithms/Algorithms. I was frightened. Seriously. 😦 😦 😦

And finally, this week’s Commonwealth Stories that they don’t want you to hear although I don’t know why they’re not telling us that former top athlete Tom McKean is one of those nice police people out on the streets protecting the baton; but we can guess why Chief Exec David Grevemberg (sp) initially denied that the sickness bug was norovirus. After all Mo Farah did say he was only able to compete now that his stomach problems were over. And did you see on TV the frightening walls and wire that separate the Games village from the people of Dalmarnock? There’s similar defending the world’s bowlers from the good people of Radnor Street.

Cyclists have lost cycle lanes and are having to cycle out there in mainstream traffic. Watching out for Commonwealth drivers who were told at a briefing that if the delegate wanted to go to Hampden but his wife then wants to go to Silverburn Shopping Centre, then the driver had to do that journey. What? Are there no female delegates? And if the delegate wanted to go to a brothel they had to be taken there.

There are no brothels in Glasgow. There are several two bedroom flats near Charing Cross and Glasgow Green where the bedding is changed less often than the girls who work there.

Cya, (keep)ing it fun and still wearing that badge? Maybe I should wear them all at one time. 🙂

Johnt850, often compared to a cat in the rye. Or was it a catcher on a hot tin roof?

So I was in a pub that is now known as the Curler’s Rest in Byres Road the other day. My friend Maureen of Momac Designs was showing her finest there. Upstairs. Lots of nice but slightly different jewellery. Watch out for them. Momac has a page on Facebook.

Anyway….I realised it had been years since I’d been in the Curlers. As I put it on Facebook later ‘I couldn’t remember when I was last in there.’ (double-edged message there – literary device).

I am comfortable in bars, clubs and other licensed premises but there are some places I will not go into. Tennent’s in Byres Road and the Three Judges at the bottom are but two. However I am happy in the Hillhead Book Club, Vodka Wodka and Brel’s for example. There’s a very simple explanation for this.

Seven years ago, when I worked towards my recovery with a professional addiction worker and we both agreed that alcohol addiction/dependency was not an irreversible disease but learned behaviour we worked on losing the triggers that sparked things off and stopping going to these two bars was a big decision but a good one.

We eventually agreed that going to bars (obvs drinking soft drinks) was feasible but going to new bars was important – losing acquaintances who would set me up with a pint of lager as soon as I walked in and I still feel a wee bit like that.

It also takes in the wonderful world of coffee bars and I feel so much better for their existence. Finding new places to go was a brilliant part of my recovery and I still enjoy doing that. Learning new behaviours all the time. 🙂

Before Liz Lynch (McColgan) in 1986, there was Lachie Stewart in 1970, also in Edinburgh……stick with this clip until the final effing bend and tell me you’re not cheering your effing head off and effing crying at the same time.


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