I’m not rich. These days I’m comfortable and can afford things. I’m not of a shilling right now. This evening I came off the bus and it was raining. As my size 10 stepped onto the pavement from the bus, I noticed a soaking wet Bank Of Scotland £5 note lying on the kerb awaiting shelter in someone’s wallet.

I did consider taking it. I even looked around to see if anyone was close in case I decided to do so. But the upbringing came into force. My parents would have said it would have been wrong to take that fiver ( typical do-gooders.. never got them anywhere really )

So I didn’t take it. Taking the upbringing advice of dead people has now made me regret not taking that £5. I would have spent it well. No doubt someone with a drug fix to sustain has it now.

An old English teacher once told me that he could leave 500 yen in the streets of Japan, and he would be 100% confident it would be there the next morning.

I should be Japanese then.

Readers, big thanks for the feedback to the previous post. I get decent blog ratings but one thing I don’t understand is why most of you could not leave your questions in the comments? Why email me?

I don’t mind, though.. well I am a liar. I want loads of comments.

Okay, questions.. Your questions answered:

Clairwil Asked:

1. Are you tall?

Yes, I’m 6ft 3

2. Do you have black hair and very pale skin?

Fair/brownish hair and very pale skin.

3. Are you coming to the big meet on Friday?

Email me the details. However I am kind of reluctant. If I went how does one introduce or find you guys?!

4. Can you make the pain stop?

It depends on the pain. I do have a crap medicine box..

Other questions from readers:

Q. How big is your marginal walker?
A. Well James. I have long left the days of when once a month I had a flow chart of erectile measurements as I went through puberty and the mist of time have made one forget my marginal walker sizings. Hope that’s what you meant.

Q. Do you have a lot of visitors/regular readers?
A. I believe so. I have a good amount of regulars who are mostly lurkers, but sometimes either email me or post comments. This will never be one of the greatest blogs on the blogosphere in terms of readership, but near 3 figure sums on most days is good enough for me.

Q. Okay Mr Musician, where is your music? Ive read your posts mentioning music.
A. Soon.. always tomorrow’s.

Q. Are you eternally sad?
A. Change the record please. No I am not sad. Why would you think that?

Q. Has your blog saved or changed anyone out there who was afraid of going to the Doctor if they have found a breast abnormality?
A. I don’t know. Think about it. The odds of a woman reading my blog and being fearful of what they have found are pretty slim. The current readership is too small to shorten those odds. But my story is here and if that story is shared with others then who knows?

Q. Are you single?
A. Yeah and I’m not interested in men!

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Thats enough for now, but keep them coming. Ask me anything..

Ive read a good number of blogs that ask their readers to post some questions about ANYTHING and I will answer them. They can be curious questions about me ( which I will answer within reason.. ) or anything totally random.

So, as the title suggests, over to you..

Everyday, more and more people come to my blog looking for Glen Michael. A lot of traffic have came from Glen-o-philes and I welcome you all. The guy is a living legend and I bet he could heal the sick. He deserves some kind of civic award.

Ive not seen Glen in several months and I think he no longer dines in the Citypark Restaurant which I don’t blame him so he has a discerning palette. ( Here, looking at the website where the hell is the Bistro??)

Damn you woman, damn you.

You wont see me today, you wont see my tommorow.
You ended up turning me and others inside out with your stupidity.
When I saw you that night a year ago tonight, all I asked was is my dinner in the oven?
You reply with something that made me collapse with shock and pain.
You then go through hell and dreadful pain.
You were refused treatment because you left it all too late.
You died because of your stupidity.
You left us without support
You left your grandchildren who hardly knew you. They will never really know you. You will be just an afterthought to them.
You will never see my success, or enjoy it, or bask in proudness. Nor will you see the children Ive yet to Father.
Right now Mum, If I saw you, Id shout at you and call you a stupid cow.
One examination at the right time, and I would have been enduring your rotten cooking this evening.

Damn you mother, damn you. Tonight it is hard to love or respect you.

( The above was not a poem or meant to be one. Im not a poet.)