Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Rum, Sodomy and the Lash
Last weekend was ma birthday so a wee blow out was well in order. Turned into a proper topper: saw Tom Tom Crew (tip top hip hop inspired nonsense from fit young Aussies), wolfed curry at Khushi's Diner (great scran and byob wi nae corkage), attended the Mela (South Asian arts festival) in Pilrig Park, took in Rough Cut Nation at the National Portrait Gallery (must go back when it's quieter) then danced and spraffed masel dizzy at Headspin. Wound down with an extended Sunday sesh in Easter Road's Royal Nip (cheap as chapaties, rough as rocks, friendly as fuck and plenty raucous punk on the jukie).
I highly recommended all of the above, though you'll have to wait a year for the next Mela.
This week was supposed to involve watchin Scotland hump Macedonia (surely) at the fitba, deliverin loadsa phonebooks and listening to Archie MacPherson in conversation. Alas, poor Archie, summat else has come up.
Tomorrow morn i'm takin a ferry from Cairnryan to Larne then bussing up to Ballycastle in north County Antrim to hook wi my favourite fisherman. The following day i'll be out at sea chasin queenies for up to 12 days. For a strict veggie landlubber like masel, this is indeed a strange choice of activity. I am (almost literally) cackin masel at the thought of it (strange, nervous, gurgley belly).
What if i spew up aw the time? What if i cannae take the smell o fish, diesel and sweat? What if shiting in a bucket's no as easy as it sounds? What if my soft wee body crumbles after a coupla long long days of proper graft? The negative possibilities are kinda endless but the positives mos def outweigh them bigstyle.
If i can hack it, i'll be doing something most peeps only get to watch on telly, i'll meet new and very different people, i'll lose some weight and get a bit fitter, i'll have loadsa time to read, i should sleep well cos i'll be knackered every night, i'll surely come back wi some great tales to tell and i might even earn a coupla bob while i'm at it.
So i could be gone for a coupla weeks. Please be nice to Mand if you see her. Don't tell my maw what i'm up to cos the worry will ruin her wee break in Ibiza. And if you do see me skulkin down the Walk in less than 12 days time, don't rub it in too hard that i wisnae up to it. I may well no be, but at least i'll gie it a bash.