h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Yesterday Susan and I caught the bus out to her shop for a surprise visit. She found it in good-ish order and we did a little shopping there. Waiting for the bus back to Aiberdeen we saw a terrible sight. On the bench next to us there was an old guy, sitting next to two big bags of shopping the contents of which were falling out and smashing on the pavement, gushingly pissing himself and polishing off a half bottle of whisky while fumbling with an attempted rolly-up. He got up to go to a shop, leaving the shoppong behind, and we saw that he had dropped £30 in notes. I picked them up - they were damp - and put them next to the shopping. We told him when he came back but he paid no heed and the shopping continied to fall and smash. "It's not mine, it's my grand-daughter's" There's a quine who can hardly still retain any illusions as to life, we thought.

I mean, £30. Thirty pounds is thirty pounds, and the sight of it piss-sodden and lying amid broken eggs... No, it shocks me to think of the sheer waste of... six packets of fags, two bottles of whisky, deep fried Mars bars, whatever - it doesn't have to be yoghurt and museli. Susan and I ain't living on Skid Row and we're not down to out last few pennies, but money is tight enough for us to know its value.

On the bus back to town I was ver' careful to keep my hands away from my mouth.

It really depressed me, so we went and had a pizza with some Italian beer and a tomato and mozzerella salad, then went to see Russian Ark at The Belmont.

Russian Ark is a visual tour de force, and it shows up the limitations of the Belmont's Screen 3 DVD projection facilities something awful.

Anyhow, we got home and went to bed.

I had a nightmare about my PhD supervisor. I have been having these lately, but last night's was ver' peculiar. I was in a park and he and Caius came up to me. He told me that there was a law symposium on in a wee while and that I was giving a paper on the assignation of agricultural leases. Caius was also giving a paper, but I can't remember the subject, only that it began with an A. Anyhow, C was well prepared but I had been given no forewarning at all. I protested for a while, but as I was doing so I was thinking "actually, it's fairly straightforward" then BANG in the dream I woke up in bed next to my supervisor. I hasten to add that nothing had happened and that it was all nice and chaste, and that probably we'd just both felt a bit sleepy at the same time. I cannot stress it enough that I was absolutely clear in my dreaming that there had been no hanky-panky or suspect agenda whatsoever.

Anyhow, I wasn't wearing anything but he had on a flannel pyjamas.

I have pondered on this dream long and hard but remain at a loss. (Actually, the reference point is probably Morecambe and Wise).

We went in to town today to see the Tartan Day parade - an annual sort of jolly for the Scotch. There were several hundred pipers marching down Union Street - every low dive in Deeside had been emptied, obviously - and as many Aiberdonians watching as is consistent with the prospect of free entertainment; i.e. a heckuva lot.

After the parade we did some street market shopping - a splendid big bak of first class luscious-looking veg for £3, lamb and rosemary snags, American hard gums, fruit scones, proper cheese &c. We had coffee and the Beautiful Mountain - I had freshly-made pancakes with jam - then we did a tour of the charity shops.

Today, Susan has had coffee, a bacon roll, ice cream, a pint, and has bought two tops. She has had her three-mile walk, and is getting butcher's steak pie with broccoli, carrots, cabbage and cauli for tea, plus either wine or beer. She slept through two mousie incidents last night (one dead, one alive) and is about to go out to cut the grass. This hip op has improved the quality of her life immensely as far as I can see.

Charity hop purchases:

A Nesbro, a Best of New Worlds 7, and a Victorian lady detective (The Library Paradox).

A UFO CD set. An Axl Rudi Pell set. A 'best of' Iggy Pop.

In the coming week we will try to check out the Brazilian restaurant


Drugless

A new hip and a full Brazilian!
Some people really live life to the max.

Best wishes
PJ's OH

He may have been doing important work.

Yezzindeed, that man was thee Lowered, alley-loo-yah alley-loo-YAH http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-E39htndsmA


Drugless

To quote Damon Albarn, woo-hoo http://www.criminalelement.com/blogs/2011/07/the-walking-deadtrailers-and-entrails


Drugless

Really glad to hear this - I remember when my mum had her hip replacement, with similar results.