I got dragged out shopping tonight. Dragged. There was some muttering about “no bloody football on” or somesuch but I couldn’t really make out what she was saying. She really must learn to stop gritting her teeth.


Someone asked me for a suggestion for a quiet pub in Glasgow. I spent quite a while racking my brain before realising that it’s an oxymoron of sorts. There is no such thing. Glaswegians are not quiet, doubly so when they are in the pub. In the end I suggested the Drum and Monkey (old fashioned but quiet enough) or All Bar One (ubiquitous, quiet-ish and more modern). I’d love to say WHY I was asked to recommend them but I can’t. I promised. She’d kill me.


Our friend, who is on long-term sick leave, blacked out. She came around to find her husband phoning an ambulance. She is now the proud owner of several staples, a bloodied top and what she reckons will be a first-class black eye. We did have a curry and beer night planned with them tomorrow but we’ll make do with making sure she’s alright!


I’ve just typed up a lengthy, descriptive, set of directions for my sister-in-law who is driving to Haggerston on Saturday. She’s taking the kids to a holiday park there, and we’ll nip down and visit on Sunday.

She’s not the world’s most confident driver and I’m pretty sure the furthest she’s ever driven was when she visited us.. I reckon it’s about 50 miles. She’s about to quadruple her personal best! Thankfully it’s not too complicated and she seems quite calm about it… nevertheless I’ll have my mobile set to LOUD all day Saturday. Just in case.

Mind you, we’re at a BBQ on Saturday so I’m hoping she arrives safe and sound before I get too sozzled to help…

“Yeah yeah, take that road. If that doesn’t work, phone me back in a beer.. er.. when you hit Manchester… or something.. HIC!”


ENOUGH!!! Seriously, stop it. All this nonsense about who supports whom, is rather boring now. NO-ONE has to support ANYONE for ANY reason. That’s it. Simple enough. If someone chooses to support someone else then THAT IS UP TO THEM. It’s a free country (ish). Get over it.

Or at the very least, SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT YOU, to quote my darling wife, “WANKFUCKS!”.


That feels SO much better.

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

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