One man, his memories and his dreams

Naked Blog

In the profession of Being... (Crisp)

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Cast and Locations

Leith - a seaport adjoining Edinburgh, Scotland. Once run-down, but now becoming hugely posh, with Royal Yacht Britannia, Harvey Nicks, etc, etc.

Port o Leith Bar, run by the indefatigable Mary

The Village Inn, Bar, Restaurant whatever, run by the inimitable Alastair and Ian.

Stuart, my friend for a few years which feel like several lifetimes.

Rex, a brilliant scholar and theologian, currently a bit down on his uppers.

Scott, a ships' engineer with a Class 1 ticket, very into DVDs etc.

Tony, my IT manager.

Sandra, my personal manager.

Cherry the black part-Labrador.

Cherry with her internet shades

Oh - and me... a fifty-something gay man responsible for all this rubbish.



Sites to see:

The Tag-Team...

Dark Informer
Embra Nights
Flat At The Top of The Stairs
Not You The Other One
Oddverse
They Didn't Teach Me...
Troubled Diva

Right Here...

Richard Bloomfield
Vodkabird

Almost Here...

Excess Memory
Here Inside
Martijn ten Napel
So...
Swish Cottage
Terreus
The Obvious Blog

There...

Barbara Fletcher
Cracks in the Pavement
Jim's Journal
Mighty Geek
Secret Kings

Everywhere...

Guardian Unlimited
Guardian Weblog
BBCi
BBC Scotblog
Channel Four



Stories from...

April2001
May2001
June2001
July2001
August2001
September2001
October2001
November2001
December2001

January2002
February2002
March2002
April2002
May2002
June2002
July2002
August2002
September2002
October2002

This week



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Monday, July 12, 2004

Darlings - I'm having a complete nervous breakdown.

I know some of you have your ups and downs... partners can be a bitch... children disrespect you despite years of your devotion... parents fuck off and die, the ungrateful bastards.

All of those things.

But never more than one at a time, eh?

Currently we're suffering from...

a Naked Blog server that's down, and Ednet don't seem to give a toss about...

Extracted teeth that my dentist doesn't seem to give a toss about... despite me getting through to the next stage of...

Bingo caller of the year competion, which I don't want to win, because...

it would mean flying to Las Vegas, whereas I would rather eat fresh lugworms dug up from the beach...

which is even damper than the wall of my downstairs neighbour, with (alleged) water from my flat...

and I can hardly breathe from cat allergy and cigarette smoke...

while my t-shirt printer remains down...

and I disappoint all my recent blog guests.

It's just not fair. Nature conspires to defeat me. Always has.


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