In the beginnin’.

In the beginnin’ there were Three Middle Eastern Gentlemen( or Ladies) sittin’ in the shade because that and countin’ Camels was aw they had tae occupy their minds. One day it came tae pass that it was too hot even for the Camels so the Three shady Gentlemen( or Ladies) came up wi’ the idea of makin’ up the biggest lot of Camel dung they could think of that awfy gullible people wid believe. The first One, who we’ll call Christy, came up wi’ a supreme omnipresent spirit who made the world in under a week and who in a later chapters of his story had a son on Earth who died and came back tae life and went up tae visit his father and who will come back tae save everybody. The second One we’ll call Bernie and he had a similar beginnin’ tae his story-  they end up havin’ an awfy time and they’ve no’ had a Messiah yet. The Third( Issy) is the new kid on the block and the pish in his book is as nonsensical as the other Two.

State of the Nation address.

Got ma eyes looked at today- everything seems tae be fine but the Doc said if ah get any floaters ah’ve tae phone right away. Still got this Cunt of a cough, which has lasted, noo, for quite a time. Ah wish ah could be more upbeat at the moment. Ah’m sleepin’ alot these days- ah get up, take ma tablets, have a wee joint and a wee Whisky and ah’m ready for a lie doon. Then, ah have a lie doon for a few hours, get up, take ma tablets, have a wee joint and a Whisky then go for a lie doon. Ah’m turnin’ intae a split personality- jovial and ootgoin’ oot with the flat but a miserable Git inside. Aw this Shite will probably overwhelm me One day. Ah forgot tae mention that ah was at the Scotland Israel qualifier in October- how the Fuck could ah forget that. What an atmosphere, what a game- beatin’ Denmark a month later was epic and One of the great Scottish performances. Anyway, back tae this year and January, February, March, April and May were uneventful. June, ah remember because ah thought the Bank had made an awfy error and given me a not inconsiderable amount of money. Ah’d had a Pound in ma account and Chris  transferred Fifty Quid tae it. Ah nipped off tae the Cash line tae get the Fifty Quid and looked at the account balance- Christ and Jesus were uttered at that moment( but not necessarily in that order). Ah nipped intae the Bank tae tell them there was some mistake in ma account and the nice wee lady told me it had been paid in.  Ah pissed a fair amount of it up against the wa by way of Marijuana and Whisky but a got masel a Nice Camera, a Tablet and the holiday in Bordooks is all paid for. Still got enough tae get another holiday and a prostitute for the night( in case ah get terminally ill- no way ah’m departin the Planet without gettin a last shag. Anyway, ah’ve no eaten today and it’s nearly Midnight- the apostrophes seem tae have vanished.


2021 State of the Nation address.

Well, that’s nearly that for the year and as ah’ve been a bit sparse wi’ ma contributions tae the site ah’ve decided tae put a wee shift in.                        Health wise it’s been no’ too bad- apart fae the pain and discomfort when ah walk which, hopefully, will get sorted when ah get the Steint thing put in. It can be a bit soul destroyin’ at times and the Shite circulation is the main source of my visits fae the Black Dug. This last month has been a particular Cunt Black Dug wise. Ah think ah’ve got a thing- like that Bi Polar thing. Ah couldny present the Scud Broon who never goes oot and lives in his Jammies tae people ah meet in the street. Folk wid think ah was a miserable Cunt. In company ah’m really upbeat and ootgoin’ – as soon as the door shuts on the World ah turn intae an awfy morose C–t. No’ aw the time, mind you, – ah love a laugh and if ah feel ah’m descendin’ intae the black hole, a dose of Benny Hill or the life of Brian will drag me up laughin’. Another great comfort blanket for me is watchin’ the 1970 Brazil team on the You Tube. Clodoaldo said ‘We had Five Aces- Pele, Tostao, Gerson, Rivelinho and Jairzinho- a pack of cards only has Four’. The Fourth goal for Brazil is, for me, and almost everyone else( ah say almost because there will be a contrarian Cunt oot there who’ll disagree- there’s always One) the greatest goal ever scored in any final, let alone, the World Cup final. There are nae words for that goal- just facial expressions ranging fae awe tae wonder tae a wee sadness that we’ll never see Fitba’ like that again. Ah’ve waited Fifty years and ah’ve never seen anything like it since.  Ah’m up in the mornin’ for the Opthalmologist appointment so ah’ll sign off and write more tomorrow.