Well, that’s the 2021 show over and done wi’ and it was a year of jags and Boosters and this fuckin’ COVID wearin’ everybody doon. Ah got ma wee unexpected wind fall and that was the highlight ah suppose. Pissed a Thousand Quid up against the wa’ in Grass and Whisky, which, in hindsight ah could’ve done without daein’- but, hey ho, Fuck it. Ma holiday tae Bordeaux wi’ the sons of Boabby Thomson is paid for and possibly a nice wee return tae Sorrento next year- so ah didny blaw the lot. Ah don’t know what ah’m expectin’ this year. Death, ah suppose, if this Cough persists in bein’ persistent- ah got away wi’ it for the last Six years, so by the law of averages ah’ll be deid soon. Ah get alot of tinglin’ in ma arms and feet which can be a bit unnervin’ at times. On ma hands and toes, just where the skin ends and the nail begins, it gets awfy dry and nippy and ah get a bit breathless, which really unsetles me. The breathlessness reminds me of the Heart Attack and it can bring a bit of panic on. Scotland are in guide shape Fitba’ wise. Ah was at the Israel qualifier at Hampden and that was amazin’- a brilliant atmosphere- a massive highlight of ma year. As was flittin’ fae Fort Apache and that wee androgynous Cunt of a neighbour- it’s so good bein’ away fae aw that Shite. Hope the wee Cunt dies in a freak Yachtin’ accident. Ah drank alot of Whisky over the year, maybe Forty bottles, which is too much by anybody’s standards. As Chrissie B said, ah can maybe afford One addiction but no’ Two- so that’s a thing ah can make a dent in cuttin’ doon. The fags and joints are a different Ba’ game, though. Ah love gettin’ stoned and that’s that.
New Year same auld Fuck ups
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