Thursday 9 February 2012

Thinkin' 'bout Things.

1. Every Thursday night I go for pints with Paul (the plumber). He couldn't make it tonight, he had visitors. Plus, he had rang me last night to ask if I could go out then (Wednesday night) instead. No. I was going to the flicks (Movies) with Annette.

But I went for pints anyway tonight, 'cos by now most people in the 'Hi-Way' (my new local) know me anyway, and I have no problem going there on my own.

But it wasn't the same, 'cos Paul (the plumber) wasn't there. To the stool at my right. And it was like I had been divorced by my Man-Date!

And people asked "Where's yer pal?"
And I replied "We've split up, he left me for a guy with curly hair!"
And some of them believed me, and were shocked!
For even though I'm bald, I am surely handsome?

2. More people need to get married.
More people need to have big weddings, fuck the cost, and book my band to entertain the hundreds of people they invite to their wedding!

Get Married People!

3. People say "You used to have thick curly hair, do you miss it?"
I say "Fuck off"!

4. DON'T EVER SMOKE!

5. If you have 'stuff' on your mind, if yer head is hurting, talk to a friend. If I'm your friend you can talk to me anytime, about anything, ok? And it won't go any further. You can trust me, 'cos if you're MY friend then I must love you, and I will do all I can to make you feel better.

6. Sometimes, when I'm drunk, I write very honest blog posts.

7. I love you all. :¬)

xxx

17 comments:

  1. and even when yer not drunk, you write honest and oft times, very lovely posts, bubba! ;~) xoxoxoox

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  2. You're the best, Map!!! I'd love to meet you at your local for a few drinks!! I love you too... and you are indeed a very good friend. xoxoxo

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  3. sav; Ah missus, I can't wait to see ye in the summer, (or was that a dream??) !! :¬)

    xoxoxoxo

    Pon; There's a bar stool reserved just for you! :¬)

    xxx

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  4. Seriously though friends, or anyone who happens to be reading this, if you are having problems, or if yer head is just hurting from 'stuff' will you please just let me know, and maybe I can put you in contact with someone who can help. There is ALWAYS someone who can help you, even a stranger, so just YELL to one of us yeah? :¬)

    xxx

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  5. For the love of God. Typical lightweight. Friday midday right up until the stroke of four is a time for the oaken feel of bar stools and the blackness of pints in the company of worky boots and the luxurious filth of honest earned money to the hand. A man and his wooden stool briefly part company for a wash and a clean shirt before it's barely six o'clock afore he returns with minty breath and the flush of a Friday evening about himself.

    Come the back of seven and the door at Jinty's is behind him as he embarks on the largeness of whisky of which can only be served neat and by the holiness of the little pope fella himself, none of that American or Canadian pish that gathers dust upon the cheapness of supermarket shelves.

    By the chime of eight the conversation is cured by the swally of several glasses and ribald comments are tempered with that of good humour amongst once angry men.

    A glance at the closed door shows no sign of the little singing fella and the wee baldy head that glows brightly as he entertains the ladies upon his virtual stage. Typical, a confirmed and clumsy lightweight until the very end.

    Cometh the hour of eleven and the talk of Celtic and their pride is as high as the title they intend to take back fae wee tubby Sally and his broken men across the Govan divide. Paul the plumber in his absence will have a cloudy head filled with the dreams of other proud green and white men. A small glass is raised, the toast is for that of those of Glesga still missing in action, but not that of those lost in theatrical Hollywood khaki across the shore to Amerikay.

    No... not this day, this Friday is set aside for those of height and steel who rode the waves and conquered the reef of Antipodean bars without stools. This Friday is the release (in more ways than one) of the Glen brothers as they savour again on the taste buds of a man wronged.

    So raise your glass to Glen Morangie, Glen Fiddich and of cause the authors saliva, Mr Jameson his fine self, for he shall truly inherit the earth once he has sobered himself in the morn.

    Slainte, wee man, slainte.

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  6. Love to drop in a have a beer with you and Paul and the rest of the locals Map. Pity your local and mine are so very far apart...

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  7. ...Yep, I agree! More people should get married and have their invitations addressed in calligraphy AND also have a fab band play at their wedding.

    I have junk in my head.

    Sx

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  8. Himself; And about fuckin time Sham! Tomorrow we raise a Glen to Mr. Lennon and his first Century! Welcome home big fella, Slainte mhaith! :)

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  9. Tempo; The seas may divide us but one day..... You might very well get a wee baldy singin' fella pulling up a stool at a bar near you! (Another baldy pal of mine tells me it's a fine place!) :)

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  10. Scarlet; Indeed, for you have a lovely hand. Now this junk, my couch is all yours. :)

    xxx

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  11. i'm off to bring one of the brothers glen home for sunday with the MITM, sugar! thanks for the heads up, bubba! we'll raise a glass to all y'all. xoxoxoox

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  12. A big hug for you Map. So glad your pal is back talkin'.

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  13. ah, yes, junk in my head -
    but love in my heart...

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  14. @Pat...I had to laugh as I misread that as "talking back", which in my household as a kid meant saying things to a parent a kid shouldn't dare. :)

    Ah Map, quite the lovefest you have going on. :) Add mine to the pile of Xs.

    I've had better days but I'm just stubborn enough to keep moving. Long as I have my sense of humor, and a charming Irish fella with glow in the dark hair who sings, I'll be okay. :)

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  15. I smoked, but quite late last year. I have never loved anyone like I loved smoking. I am going to cry now.

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  16. What a pleasant and welcome boot in the arse that was. Don't put that invitation out there unless you mean it because I, and many others, are likely to take you up on it.

    @ Himself: That was the last thing I expected to read on this early Saturday morning. As welcome as Map's invitation.

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  17. I do sense the presence of an old friend, good stuff, the both of you.

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