Ra Cure!

Friday 12:47 p.m.
Spent the first part of the morning wrestling with a hate filled hangover. I am a horrible person and shouldn't be allowed near normal people, especially when there's plonko collapso for free. I stayed away from wine for the twenty odd years I had a stomache ulcer, and have never really gotten the hang of it. They should colour it purple like they do with turpentine to stop the alkies guzzling it. White wine just looks like water. After you've thrown a few glasses down your gullet, it tastes like water as well. Dearie me!

So I never got round to meditating till eleven this morning, but immediately all the horrible thoughts disappeared and once more you are in the fantastic bliss. The horrible hangover thoughts are a perfect example of how useless most thoughts are. But it is amazing to be moaning and groaning about the place one minute and then be in ra bliss the next. Quite made my day, it did. I went and got an number one at the barbers and will give all my money to the credit card basturns this afternoon, and try to avoid evil for the rest of the month. Amen.

Before I journeyed to Newton Mearns, I spent the afternoon with the auld maw. She was complaining about her neighbours during the war. Lots of them were waving union jacks and going on about fighting the Germans in 1939, but the only man from the building who went to fight the Germans was my auld man. Everyone who could went into reserved occupations and made plenty of money.

The auld maw showed me the letter she got telling her about the war widows pension she received from the 29th of December 1965, the year my auld man died from lack of breath. She got awarded five pounds five shillings for herself and there was two pounds four shillings each to keep me and Popeye. In 1969 I got twelve pounds a week for a student grant and could sign on the dole during the holidays.

In the Amazing Bloggy Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid we do have a hell for all the evil basturns of course, which is just as well!