Sleep Tourettes? Fuck Off......
I have always considered myself to be a reasonably normal functioning human being, I have never broken a bone, stayed in hospital overnight or even suffered from nightmares. I have no unusual allergies, weird twitches or odd bowel movements so you can imagine my dismay when I discovered I have a condition such as sleep tourettes (diagnosed by my own private neurologist that sleeps over most nights).
That's right, it appears that not enough swearing is done on a daily basis in Scotland so I am putting in extra hours whilst sleeping. The favourite word appears to be FUCK! and variations on it. FUCK ME!, FUCK YOU! and FUCK OFF!
People have probably been locked up for this kind of behaviour before now so I am keen to keep things low key, well as low key as you can keep things when you have no recolection of shouting obscenities. In the mean time no more sleeping on gran's couch huh?
I am however glad to report that my neurologist has done some analysis of the ailment and got back to me with good and bad news. The good news is that such behaviour is not uncommon, is very often hereditary and unlikely to be a sign of me coming apart at the seams. Woo Hoo !
The bad news? Every morning for the rest of my life, "no darling I wasn't talking to you... I promise...".
Football... who cares?
Since puberty I have declared abstinence from football unashamably, often receiving looks that I expect the physically handicapped, aesthetically challenged and hopelessly deranged receive all to often. Thankfully I am none of these, at least not certified anyway, but
am a normal functioning human being... I just don't follow football, ok?
On Saturday, however, I attended a Scottish Cup match between Hibernian and Brechan and was pleasantly surprised to find the game more interesting than anticipated. Being 2 rows from the front we were able to see the colour of the players eyes, figuratively speaking of course I'm really as blind as a bat, and did see a couple of decent goals close up.
The most interesting part of football matches are the die hard fans who seem to be more interested in slagging each others mothers off (how they all know each other I'm not sure) than the game at hand. Perhaps it is this aspect of the game that has kept me on the sideline for so long.
What was my favourite part of the day? The pint afterwards of course...
u a no p...
Everyone has their own little eccentricities that follow them through life. Some make people more interesting, some haunt people till the day they die. I have to suffer repeating the same phrase on almost a daily basis in order to make myself understood.
I was in the bank the other day and I said it to the cashier. On the phone to my cable company I said the same thing. The man in the post office helping me fill out a form heard it from me too. I know that I will be saying it for the rest of my living life...
u a no p, u a no p, U A NO FUCKING P !
I am of course talking about my name. Being spelt the correct way, Stuart Thomson, I am forever hounded by those wishing to corrupt my good name by using such letters as w's or p's, for which my name has no need, want or room.
I have quickened the process of individual questions by adopting the phrase 'u a no p' as an extension to my name. Now when asked my name by someone armed with a pen I answer, "My name is Stuart Thomson u a no p".
Jokes dont make me laugh as much as they used to....
Jokes dont make me laugh as much as they used to. Are jokes going down hill or is it my sense of humour? Tough call there, but I remember laughing for days at funny jokes in years gone by e.g.
Why did the condom fly around the room?
If you are one the few people in the world who has not heard it (where the hell have you been for the last decade?) the answer will be provided at the end of this blog. I do remember on hearing this particular joke laughing so hard that I nearly wet myself... quite appropriate considering.
Anyway the reason I come to this topic is because I heard a joke last night that brought back memories of the effects of hearing a good original joke... long live laughter :
'The local rag this week had a special offer running on obituary notices, 3 words for the price of 2. A man phones in on Monday wishing to place an obituary, "John Reid, Bog Heid, is deid". The helpful soul in the office informs the caller of the offer and that he can add 3 more words at no extra cost. The caller says fine and will call back later to confirm. A couple of hours later the caller is back on the line with his revised obituary, "John Reid, Bog Heid, is deid... volvo for sale"'
So why did the condom fly around the room then? Because it was pissed off....
My first blog...
Here I am in the prime of my life wanting for nothing... or at least I was until recently! I have been informed that no decent modern intelligent person can trully exist without a blog. Being all of the above I suddenly felt naked and have wound up here rambling on about my inner most feelings to whoever feels like reading. I have yet to reap the benefits to my karma and inner harmony but am indeed curious to see where this journey will take me...
Stay tuned folks for the madness that is my life............
