This Standard Scottish Life

See also Part 1

In the bath

Suffering from jetlag

I dream that I am

Swimming with squids

And wake up

Choking on water

Let that be a lesson

Not to sleep in the bath

Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last! That’s what Martin Luther King said when he stood here. (Here is on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial – check out the gruff man who lives there).
Look at that Independence Day stylee sky. If only the aliens would come get President Le Shrub and take him away. I went to his house today (the President’s not the alien’s) in the hope of seeing his pooches taking him for a walk but not such luck.

On the plane

to Washington

bouncing around in a storm

I whispered to God

Please don’t let me die in a plane

I didn’t

Does that mean God exists ?

… poor TSSL neglected as usual while its owner is off obsessing about other things. This past month I have mostly been:

• reading absolutely everything about and by Truman Capote. He’s my new favourite author, he is so terribly funny and nasty. And he was short. And had a fetching line in hats. And documented, and no doubt enhanced everything anyone ever said to him, for example, one day when he was chatting to Marilyn Monroe and she called Queen Elizabeth the Second a cunt – which of course I thought was quite priceless. Hmmmm …. sorry about the c**t sweary word but we like to court controversy on TSSL and it also allows me to tag this post with sex which of course can only improve my Google rankings. And I did think it was funny and especially what she went on to say about Prince Philip & Errol Flynn.
• getting all sorts of nasty stains on my lovely new silk scarf. It is the coolest scarf in the world coz it’s of Maurice by Andy Warho (“it’s Warhol actually” – yes thanks for that Mr Bowie, f-off now). I should explain about the stains ….. or maybe I should leave it to your imagination. Yes, your imagination is probably better, I’ll just say one word on the stains though …. oil and not of the petroleum type. If you are brave enough to ask me about the stains I can assure you that the explanation is less exciting the image you have just conjured up in your head.
• going to Roma and stuffing ourselves on pasta and scooping Prosecco and eating cannoli. As I recall we also saw some old falling down walls and the Pope’s hoose (but it was closed I can only assume he was out shopping for Prada loafers).

• searching and finding my long lost brother Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni
• preparing a lovely (well I think it’s lovely) website for my TransAmerica cycle trip. No you’re not getting to see it yet. You know how sensitive artistes are about their works in progress

It’s been more than 10 days since I last posted. I hate that wee blog monkey that sits on my shoulder whispering,”You haven’t posted in 14 days, is you life really so sad that you have nothing to say ?”

“Feck off blog monkey, it’s Scotland and it’s winter and it’s cold and windy and dark and I am not drinking so of course I’ve got nothing to say. My life is temporarily on hold while I wait for the sun to come out and the Frascati to arrive“.

You wouldn’t really be interested in my past week but for the sake of a pathetic blog post here it is:

• Monday: Went to work in the wind and rain fully clothed in Santa donated Goretex. Ate soup. Came home. Stared into space.
• Tuesday: Went to work in the wind and rain fully clothed in Santa donated Goretex. Ate soup. Came home. Stared into space.
• Wednesday: Went to work not in the wind nor the rain but still fully clothed in Santa donated Goretex. Ate cheese & tomato toasty. Came home. Stared at TV and occasionally Le Chef who wasn’t clothed in Goretex coz he fell out with Santa.
• Thursday: Went to work …. see how dull this is … you kinda get the idea … go somewhere in the weather wearing Goretex, eat a thing, come home, stare at something.
• Friday: I’ll let my reader fill in for Friday.
• Saturday: Stares at ipod nanos. Thinks about gin and tonics. Eats Polish doughnut from Polish bakery.
• Sunday: I can hardly wait!

Oh well, only 11 days til the Frascati arrives.

“What ?”

“No, that can’t be right ?”

“Oh, I guess they’re broken”

Was what I said when I stood on the scales at the gym tonight. So, in a pathetic attempt to get fit and lose the fat I:

• went on the cross trainer for 15 minutes.  It was all a bit Bill Murray a la Lost in Translation
• then wept in agony as I did 220 situps (count ‘em … that’s 1..2..3……220 situps).  That’ll be a sore tum tomorrow
• and finally 10 minutes on the running machine at the galloping pace of … 8kms / hour.  However, I think I lost extra calories coz my flabby butt bounced around quite a bit!

My plan is to ditch the spare 4.5 kilos by the beginning of February.  Just in time to go to Roma to stuff myself with pasta, pizza and vino tinto or whatever they call it in Italy!  My diet is going well too ……. today it consisted of mostly tangerines, mint tea and toffees.  Le Chef fed my salad for tea … lots of lettuce and carrots .. oh and fried potatoes, eh and boiled egg and jamon.

Hmmm let’s just try to lose 4.5 grammes then.

… at the major national cultural institution in Croatia.

Le Chef, moi et Le Scottish Portugesie were in Croatia last week participating in the world squid eating championships … oh and a work conference thing. On the last day of the work conference thing we went on a cultural tour which was very interesting but a bit heavy on the church visitations and the speaking in Croatian (my Croatian only stretches to bok, pivo, ligne na zaru and hvala). To entertain myself in the churches I decided to search out all the lambs (and other animals) of God coz as you know sheeps are my most favourite animals after squids.

Mary had a litte lamb ….

Oh Jesus those are nasty scratches

Did you drop this ?

Lambless man but at least he has a plate on his head

…. but wait, before we discuss Where’s me bike ? let’s first wonder Where’s me tea ? (that’s tea as in dinner not tea as in tea). I am sitting here on the couch with a rumbling tum and crashing sugar levels and Where’s me tea ? Le Chef has buggered off to Lundun for some meeting and left me to fend for myself. I wonder if I can hold out til he comes home at 9pm otherwise I’ll have to bloody cook something and boy am I sick of f**king courgettes and marrows. Hmmmm …. a takeaway me thinks.

But anyway … back to Where’s me bike ? Moi et Le Chef went for a very jolly jolly to Amsterdam this weekend. Twas most fun and involved eating Indonesian food while watching Le Chef pick out the peanuts (he’d get that anaphalactic shock thingie if he ate one), drinking beer, eating Maoz falafel (it is the best, bestest falafel ever and they even have an outlet in Barca now), drinking beer, wolfing the most huge amount of Mexican food ever and drinking margaritas .. oh yes and some shopping too. And of course no decriminalized drugs were partaken of . And neither did we visit the red light district . (Great I managed to wangle a sex angle to the post so can appropriately categorize it thus – surely my Google rating must be increasing).

On the way to the station I noticed a multi-storey bicycle park. How the hell do you find your bike ? All Dutch bikes look the same. If you shout at a Dutch bike, will it reply back ?

… like bash cake dough. It’s a traditional thing to smack the dough with a bigger hammer. Me thinks this is a makey-up tradition to make the tourists look daft.