I’ve been thinking on insecurities and what fun they are to write about. You can have a laugh and rip the pish out of other folks and you can do the same with your own but that isn’t funny.
I would rather use it as a self-help exercise, ’cause lets be honest, if you can write about them and put them out there, you will never need to pay a therapist.
Now paying a therapist seems to be something people in other countries do. We don’t. Us Scottish people would never dream of doing this and that has sod all to do with the very false stereotype of us being mean.
We wear our madness as a badge of honour. To be sectioned is the top accolade but it very seldom happens. The only way this can happen is if you sexually assault a lamp-post and it complains to the authorities.
I’ve been at a loss this week what to write. I thought about Brexit as I haven’t mentioned that but I thought there is no way that I want to hear any-more about it. We have two years of listening to professional pish talkers talk pish. Any debate only encourages them to debate so I won’t be going down that road.
Week 118 has been thrust upon us. We had no option but to accept and roll with it!
Another awful link coming up.
Hi folks, I can’t believe that we are now at the 1st of April with week 116. The year is flying in and I am getting older by the minute.
I write this as the events in London unfold.
Our world has many sicknesses and all of them are man induced, no matter what their ideals or beliefs. For our world and the innocents I do grieve and all of us at Literally Stories pass on our thoughts to those involved.
This has brought me to the topic of madness. But not the narrow minded madness from a bunch of insignificant bastards who can’t comprehend the common theme of being human first, followed, with no significance, of sex or religion.
I’ve been off. So I’ve been happy. I’m back to work on Sunday. So I will be suicidal!
I’ve had a few sherbets this week, throughout the week. (Sherbet(s) – ‘Sherbet Dip’ – Sip – Meaning having some alcoholic beverage.) This gave me this weeks posting.
If you are of a certain age, alcohol has been a constant companion. We marvelled at our relations who could handle the booze. Those that were never sick, were legends. We started off with a shandy (Beer and lemonade) and then had a sherry at New Year. From there we sneaked into pubs to marvel at our first pints. We had four and wondered how any man could drink twenty. Before we knew it we were drinking four pints as a thirst quencher, then starting on the haufs. (Spirits) Ironically, we all remember the first time that we drunk a bottle.
I had a spare ten minutes at work and I thought that I’d give this post a go to see what I could come up with. It was such a productive ten minutes, I would have been as well working. Nothing! Zilch! Bugger All!!
For me, my job spoils everything. I like to eat but I won’t eat at work because I enjoy eating and I can’t enjoy anything whilst I’m there. I also love to read a paper. I know that this is a dying art. But you do still see some dinosaurs going into the newsagents of a morning, buying a paper and tucking it under their arm. I’m not sure if anyone under thirty even knows what a paper is. If it’s not their phone, it’s nothing!