Christmas has come early this year.

And so dear listener, the other night I had a dram….sorry, a dream (apologies for that slip but it is strangely apposite). It was strange in that I remembered it which I don’t usually do. It did involve people I know but as they were arguing I won’t name them. And the action took place in a pub.

And I ordered a vodka and orange. No. Read that again, please. Not a vodka and fresh orange but a vodka and orange which was my under-age spirits drink many, many years ago. It was basically a shot of vodka and diluting orange and it was horrible and you knocked it back in a oner and this was long before Jagerbombs and other shots existed. But like those drinks, it got you drunk. Quick. And at the age of 16 in a village called Ellon or Maud just outside your home town of Peterhead that was what you wanted. …unless you were incredibly lucky. And I wasn’t. 😦

And it wasn’t until I got to university that I realised you could drink lager without lime.

I did under-age drink in Peterhead but got grassed up once and got told off by my folks, well my mum…… dad hid behind a newspaper.

And then there was the time (I was 17) when I’d been staying in Perth for a couple of days with a friend and his girlfriend (my folks thought her folks were there but they weren’t) and I took the train back up to Aberdeen and missed the bus connection to Peterhead by five minutes and had to wait an hour for the next bus. So I went to a pub in the Aberdeen harbour area for a couple of pints, caught the bus which was just over an hour’s journey and walked up the road, eating a fish supper on the way.

And my mother’s first words to me?

‘You’ve been drinking,’ 😦

It’s amazing the memories a dream can provoke.

And then there was the following night. I’ve not actually taken a pipe’n’slippers approach to my life. Apart from anything else the only pipe in my house has a matching grinder to go with it and some nice pictures of an exotic herb (?) on it. Not quite the type of pipe that is meant by ‘pipe’n’slippers’ I think.

But I am back to reading books of all sorts and am doing so in bed and I recently bought a DAB radio and tablet to add to the pleasure (Trust me Skippy. I know where I’m going with this altho’ it’s not reading too comfortably at the moment) So far the radio’s tuned to one station but give me time. 🙂

Anyway this was my plan when the phone rang and it was my work. The SFA had taken over responsibility for the rota and someone had found themselves working on their own – could I come in? So, I did and arrived at 10.30. I stayed until 2 by which time things seemed quiet and some of the chores had been done. It was safe to go home. 🙂

But I was hungry. The project is at the nice’n’sleazy end of Sauchiehall Street and across the road is a chip shop called The Bistro which is more chips, cheese and curry sauce that cordon bleu. I went in and just asked for a bag of chips.

‘£1.60,’ said the man behind the counter, ‘but you get staff discount and a free bottle of water.’ Eh? But I took it and made my way to my car and to that place of nocturnal bliss called ‘up the road.’ I know when I’m accepted in the neighbourhood. 😀

And even when you’re totally sober you can still have that moment the next morning when you don’t recognise the channel numbers on the Virgin box.

And finally, J and I finally managed to have the Christmas Meal out we’d been promising ourselves since Christmas. (I must get someone else to keep my diary other than Skippy). We went to an eaterie in the west end of Glasgow but to add to the Christmas spirit I had brought along two Christmas crackers for the occasion. They were in the glove drawer along with some other stuff. 😉

However, on the way there, I decided to make a right turn by going across a traffic island rather than round it. 😦  Minutes later we parked, looked at the wheels and tyres, kicked them and shrugged. And made our way to the restaurant – leaving the crackers in the car…..but hey, we pulled them later (a notebook and set of screwdrivers since you ask)

But at least, dear listener, until that moment, there was still one cracker at my table………………(I’m hear all week and the sea bass is to die for)

Cya, still wearing that badge and it’s all down to keeping it simple.

Johnt850, simply awesome.

Ann, I’m keeping the broccoli floret burlesque dancer until such time as I have viewed her performance. Instead a serious bit.

I was interested to read the Scottish Chief Superintendent who said a couple of weeks ago,

‘One of the challenges in relation to drugs and serious violent crime (at T in the Park) was the presence of what was assessed to be a particular type of hallucinogenic ecstacy/MDMA although the impact of this is anecdotal rather than definitively evidenced.’

In other words, they have no real proof; they’d rather proceed in an ambiguous direction without evidence.

When I played Kris Kristofferson’s Sunday Morning Coming Down the other week, some folk contacted me to say that that was the best hangover song ever. No. This is Bob Newman and this the best hangover song ever.


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