Junior makes me break out in a cold sweat
The thing about being a parent is the perfect balance between expectation and surprise. I knew he would walk yet I cried with joy when his little nappied body sprinted away from me. I expected that he, as the son of a football- mad Glaswegian, would kick a ball; I was more than a little surprised that he turned out to be actually quite good. I was fairly sure that one day he would swear in an inappropriate set of circumstances, bringing ignominy to me and his mother; little did I expect the swear- word to come at the age of 18 months, perfectly in context and right in front of his gran.
I bought him his first pair of shoes, his first pair of denims and his first wee leather jacket.
Fourteen years I have known him. We have travelled the world, eating exotic foods and singing silly songs. And last week I took him for his first ever gym session. Have you any idea how weird it is to go to the gym with your child? Except he would appear to no longer be a child. He exists in that twilight world, no longer a boy, not yet a man. (I know, that is dangerously close to an early Britney Spears lyric.
I had stopped my American- style whooping, he realised that he had some way to go before he could surpass his old fella in that department. But inevitably he will. I will be surpassed, superseded, rendered useless by a younger, fitter, taller, funnier, faster, better-looking version of me. And that, my friends, is progress.
I think I would have to take a firm stance on certain types of alcohol, for example alcopops and ready- made cocktails in a bottle: if you want a drink have a glass of wine, a beer or wrap a half bottle of vodka in a paper bag.
And any drink named using letters of the alphabet, such as WKD, should be banned immediately.
I have been told that pure heroin is "non tissue toxic" which means it actually does not harm the body; our contemporary problem with heroin is more to do with the filth heroin is cut with than the opiate itself: cleaning products and talcum powder are tissue toxic.
If we could control the provenance of heroin then I believe it would do much less harm than alcohol.
Can anyone make a reasoned plea in favour of the cancer stick? Having led the way on the smoking ban it seems Scottish doctors want to go one step further by banning packs of 10 fags and cigarette vending machines.
Why did no one think of this earlier? We all remember singles, a solitary cigarette, sold over the counter to all and sundry. If we strangle the supply we will eventually diminish demand. Maybe it would just be easier to ban it outright. Tracksuit puts me on the rack
Tracksuits are conundrums in the world of fashion elegance.
And they rarely find themselves marked by the orange gravel of a municipal running track. There are a myriad issues with the tracksuit. First, and perhaps most pressing, is the complicating factor of how the suit is worn. The trackie top with jeans is a look I have enjoyed since the middle of the last decade. The bottoms with a t-shirt (or sweatshirt autumn/winter) is de rigueur drop-the-kids-off-at-school wear. Combine the top and the bottoms, reconstitute the suit and a very different social demographic opens up. They have been called leisure suits, and a garment designed for an athlete is now to be worn in relaxation mode. This is ironic. I know because I spent Wednesday in Manchester wearing a tracksuit, top and bottom.
All day long. The politest comment that is printable was one word: "Shocking." And you should have seen what he was wearing. It was the least relaxing or leisurely thing I have ever done. Mr Country Slice versus the card sharp
I like a wee game of poker every now and again. I started playing at a small tourney in London on a monthly basis some years back and this is my regular first-Monday-of-the-month night out.
Mr Brunson was there, sat at a table in London, ready to play some cards. The hall was buzzing; standing room only. We all drew lots for tables, as is the norm. Of course, guess who found himself playing at the same table as the legend? There I was, opposite the most highly regarded and arguably the most successful poker player of all time.
Triple word score on the internet beats Facebook
For those of you experiencing the trials and tribulations of Facebook, I bring news of an application that makes me feel good about myself: Scrabulous, on online Scrabble. I witnessed my Facebook friend Ray Magini make the amazing word 'ameliorating'. And they say the interweb is useless.
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