bookmark_borderDrink!

I had an appointment with the nurse this morning, to get my blood pressure checked. Currently at 147/71 which I’m quite happy with. The second number is the important one, it’s down from 86 at the previous reading, and as I started with 196/122 (eek!) then it seems the pills and exercise and trying to be more careful about salt in my diet is helping.

After the nurse had taken the reading she asked me a few questions about my drinking habits, part of a new health push she said. Do I consume more than 8 units of alcohol in one go? Weekly? Fornightly, Monthly?

To which my answer was, no.

If I’m on a night out then yes, I will consume more than 8 units of alcohol but as they are less than monthly what else could I say? She agreed it was a bit of a nonsense and is more aimed at people who regularly consume more than the recommended units.

One interesting question was whether I’d ever failed to meet my duties the day after consuming alcohol. To which I asked “What? Like not cutting the grass?”.

So yes, I’m a binge drinker. I drink to ‘excess’ on a night out. Yet I don’t see that as a problem as, like most of my friends and acquaintances will know, I rarely lose control and only twice in my life have I ever woke up and had a few moments of discombobulation (aka, where the FUCK am I??).

In fact my next night out will be in London, at the Groucho Club, no less, although having checked the price list, this Scottish drinker is already considering a tee-total night!

OK. Not really.

bookmark_borderMNTKOT*

I can remember the first time I heard it, in the Clyde Bar in Helensburgh. Raw, explosive, vitriolic and, to my 17yr old ears, a spitting hammer blow through my music collection.

I bought the CD that weekend and as soon as I got home, rushed up to my room, closed the door (I’m not THAT rebellious), put it in the stereo and turned it up loud.

Thumping bass notes, screeching guitar and THAT refrain.

FUCK YOU, I WON’T DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!!

As a track it still has enough raw energy and youthful (misguided) attitude to remain an anthem to many an angsty, angry, acne-ridden youth, and through the “power of the internet” it’s now the Christmas number 1 for 2009.

And yes, I bought it. And yes I’m glad I did.

Not because of any “sticking it to the man” sympathies, as many have pointed out, Sony own both record labels so they win either way.

Not to get at X-Factor per se, as it at least drives me to source other forms of music and find richer seams of pleasure away from the (mostly) manufactured crap that peppers the charts.

Not (just) because, musically, I much prefer a good bit of noisy rock to yet another ballad.

And definitely not to “get at Joe”, who seems wholly likable and sounds a bit like Neil Sedaka to me and that’s no bad thing (really, it’s not).

Nope, I mainly just to placate that tiny piece of me that remains rebellious, the bit that gets tattoos. To have a small amount of “fuck it” in my life, to get away from the tensions and strains of being an adult.

That’s really all there is to it.

So I’m not really raging against the machine, more *mildly not too keen on the thingmabob.