Nothing going on but the rent.

Not much going on at the moment, apart for eating porridge until I get paid. That great scottish staple made with water and a ton of salt. None of this nancy-boy honey or brown sugar or nuts. Which is good, because I'm off to Glasgow at the end of the week. It's my home town, and I haven't been there for 15 years. Should be great. I'm preparing for a week of tennants, square sausage, tattie scones, whiskey and of course porridge, plus a hell of a lot doting aunts that will feed me stupid (i hope) and uncles and cousins who will want go out on the piss as much as humanly possible. I'm an excuse for my entire family to get hammered. (Well that's my excuse). I can't wait. Ill be running around Glasgow by the end of the week in a kilt singing Franz Ferdinand at the top of my lungs. Plus I've been reminded that it's Optimo Seventh Birthday on Sunday. Golly gee. Thanks, McSmacked Face. Also check this out, it's quite spectacular, and sent to me by one of my best pals from Glesga. Cheers Mikey.