Not Sure

Did I post my deja vu blog yet?

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Sir, You Are A C*nt

In Sevres, France there is something called the International Prototype Kilogram (IPK). It is a platinum-iridium alloy lump that sits in a vault at the BIPM and serves as THE official kilogram against which all others are compared.
In a like manner, I am suggesting that you be made the official IPC (International Prototype Cunt). You can be kept under two nested glass bell jars with gold plating underneath labeled simply “CUNT”. You will be kept in a secure vault in London and rolled out when necessary to resolve disputes.
For example, I might be sitting in a bar watching the footy and say “That Lee McCulloch is the biggest cunt on earth”. A fellow drinker might remark that I am incorrect…that actually David Cameron is a much bigger cunt and should hold the title.
It is at this point that you will be employed to settle the argument. When wheeled out and placed next to these other cunts, it will be possible to quantify them against a standard that is now a known constant and thus applicable across the globe. McCulloch might be labeled a -3DM Cunt (or, a minus 3 on the DM Scale) and Cameron a -1DM.
All ratings would have to have a minus sign to denote that they are lesser cunts than you – it is simply not possible to have a +3DM cunt exist. It would imply a cunt that is three orders of magnitude greater than you. A person can certainly approach DM, but like the speed of light, it cannot be reached. Except by you. Such a thing would violate all known laws of physics and causality. It would literally tear space and time – at least in this universe.
This system would essentially eliminate measurement errors. I used to think that Maurice Johnston was the largest cunt on earth and no bigger one was possible. You changed all that. I imagine that exposure to you will wreak havoc with many people’s rating systems. Thousands of cunts will go tumbling down the charts as you assume your place at the top of all of them and cause a mass re-ordering of the system.
Like the Black Swan, you have appeared and made people rethink what is possible. A person with a rating of exactly DM were not supposed to exist…yet here you are.
But from this initial chaos will emerge order. Like the metric system, it will be hard to impose on everyone but the DM system will make things far easier going forward.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

One Day

All alone on this island and my mind is on the blink;
I can’t get off this island, I can’t get my head to think;
I should have had the courage;
I should have had a plan;
I should have told her how I feel, and faced it like a man;
But alas my courage failed me;
Alas my chance has gone;
And now am on this island, to face life all alone;
But maybe one day a ship will come and take me from this fate;
Maybe one day a chance will come and it won’t be too late

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment


For you I’d build the tallest tower,
For you I’d create the prettiest bower.
For you I’d paint a grey sky blue,
For you I’d cook a feast for two.
For you no danger I would cower,
To you I devote my final hour.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment


You’re always there,
For all the wrong reasons,
You elevate my hopes,
And raise expectations,
But every time,
Although I love you,
I realise,
I just don’t mean that much to you

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A Close Shave

I signed the prescription on the “I pay for this” part and punched in my pin number.
“It’ll be a couple of minutes. Do you want to wait?” asked the strangely attractive girl. I say strangely attractive but that’s not fair. She had a nice smile, kind eyes and boys hands.
I had nothing to rush for. I hadn’t been to work for 4 weeks, I had a sick line in my pocket for another 4 so I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Just back home to wallow in my own thoughts and demons and probably watch Jeremy Kyle.
I busied myself by counting how many different types of Boots Product Recall messages there were hanging on the wall opposite. 11. 11 items that had to be recalled because they were faulty or just plain crap.
Next to the wall was a door. The sign said “Consultation Room”. I wondered about the many private and embarrassing illnesses that had been discussed behind that door. And the amount of methadone probably taken there too. Well, it was Cambuslang after all.
The pharmacy door opened and in walked a middle-aged man. He looked quite unkempt, with a stained shell-suit, ski jacket and a skip hat that looked either too small for his head or just not put on properly.
Despite his appearance, he carried himself with a certain dignity. He looked like someone who had fallen on hard times but was determined not let it beat him. Determined to maintain an air of respectability. I kind of liked him.
“Be a wee minute Tommy” said the girl. On a second look she was more attractive than strange. Shocking hairdo though.
“No bother Anne” replied the unkempt but dignified Tommy.
He looked at me. I looked at him. We exchanged that half-smile and slight head nod that you do at these times. The “I’ll just tilt my head backwards in acknowledgment” nod.
Not being the most socially confident person in the world, I decided I would turn away and feign interest in the multitude of painkillers on the shelf behind me in case Tommy indulged me in conversation. I caught a sight of myself in the mirror set up for folk to look at how the off the shelf glasses suit them. Bags under my eyes, 9 days of stubble rapidly turning into a beard and a dishevelled looking t-shirt. I didn’t really care how I looked to be honest, just getting up and out of the house was the challenge I had won that day. Personal appearance can wait.
“Right Tommy, come through” said the now very attractive girl. Am so shallow. She had, in her boys hands, a little glass of green stuff. Methadone. That was the hard times Tommy had fallen on. Fair play to him for making the effort to get off. Can’t be easy but you can see he was attempting to get sorted. I liked him more now.
“Sorry mate” said my new best friend turning to me “am skipping the queue here”. He gesticulated to the door.
“Erm no mate, am not here for that”
“Oh sorry pal, just thought you were”.
When I got home, I showered, shaved, changed and went for a kip. I didn’t feel any better but I looked it.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment