Getting into the groove

This blog is starting to feel like just that, a personal blog, again. That's good, in that I seem to be getting some sort of writing routine back (even if it's still somewhat sporadic) and bad in that I seem to be treating it more like a diary. Anyway, it's my blog, I can do


He hurries in from the cold,shakes his overcoat from his shoulders and hangs it, then his hat, on the bentwood coat stand. He warms his hands on the radiator, crosses the living room to the hi-fi. Bending down he flick-flacks quickly through the LPs, and in practised movement slides an album from its sleeve and

ISTC website

My plan for the early part of next week is to start making updates to content on the ISTC website. However, like all plans, it's already had a curveball thrown at it in that the website was built using DreamWeaver a tool I am neither familiar with, nor fond of. Regardless, I'll muddle through. It's

Random thought of the day

I was at the Skunk Anansie gig last night and there were a lot of tattoos on display. A lot of them on women including one full lower arm piece. It got me thinking. To have a large piece of ink on display, pretty much all the time, takes an attitude and lifestyle but which


Just been checking my calendar. 12th Nov - Tonight, out for food and drinks. 13th Nov - Tomorrow, hand in registration form at new doctor, go discuss idea for next tattoo with artist. 14th Nov - Sunday, early start at IKEA, then the building of various pieces of furniture whilst watching F1. 15th Nov -

Do you do PR?

I'm writing this whilst it is still fairly fresh (and only addled by a couple, ok ok, three pints of Guinness)... At the ISTC West of Scotland Area Group meeting last night talk turned to the fairly common topic of "no-one knows what we do". There was some chat about the value we can bring

Alright me Babber

I was in Brizzle on Friday, I mean Bristol. It was a bit damp, but that didn't matter as I was there for the wedding of a wonderful woman called Ann and a rather charming man called Karl. I had some time to myself during the day, and wandered round the harbour area, avoiding the

One for my Dad

Apparently I've not been blogging much. My Dad commented on this last night when I phoned so I thought I'd post a wee update for all my tens of avid readers. Not much is happening. I'm working. I have no internets. I will not have internets until November 23rd. In a royal cock up between

One step at a time

The flat is slowly taking shape. I've a few furniture purchases to make, several bookcases (white, although I may paint the backgrounds) and some bedroom furniture which will include two red bedside tables and a yet to be decided colour of chests of drawers (built-in wardrobes FTW!), a small bookcase/unit for the hall, a TV

Happily lost

The heavy staccato, the ponderous, throbbing heartbeat, pulsating through their every pore, filling them completely. They are beholden to it, quick to relinquish control, released into it, devoured, immersed, completely lost to each pulse, every melody. All around them the closed eyes of their brothers and sisters cry out, silence roars from deafened mouths as