I couldnt sleep last night and felt rather flu like. I ran out of Lemsip and went into the medicine cupboard in which I found some Night Nurse.. ( a liquid asprin, so to speak, but makes you sleep ) I took a gulp, went to bed and couldnt sleep. Maybe I should sue.

In a remarkable coincidence, a reader of my blog, the Glasgow Artist Stuart Murray, also indulged in Night Nurse recently…

Which, jogged a memory about Night Nurse and I wish to share it with my dear readers because I cant think of anything else to blog about this evening.

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In the late 1980s, my mother used to harp on and on about a woman she knew who was probably the world’s first and last Night Nurse addict. Anyway, Nursey ( We shall call her Nursey to protect the dead ) would drink a bottle of this every day and would retire for the evening at 6pm on the dot. Nursey’s strange addiction led her to ask others to go into Chemists to avoid suspicion.

This fascinated me as a kid. Others indulge in drink or some illegal drug as an escape, but Night Nurse was so original an escape that maybe when I am old and unwanted I will do the same, just to be different.

Anyway back to the story. Nursey apparantly died. Apologies Nursey if your still alive. A year or so later, I met mum in a cafe she frequented probably to have a fly fag when this old woman was sitting next to her who was called Nursey, same age, same appearance.

I was in awe of meeting this paracetemolic. After a few pleasantries I began to become afraid because Nursey was dead.. She is not alive, shes dead.

Nursey: Aw Stephen, your a clever boy! I’ll buy him a sandwich Jeanette.. Dae ye like Cheese Salad Rolls?

The Young Stephen: No.

Nursey: Why? Yer mammy said you do!

The Young Stephen: Not anymore, cos your dead.

Nursey: EH?!!

The atmos at this point soured..

The Young Stephen: I dont wish to have a roll. You died last year cos you drank too much Night Nurse!.

Horrifed she was… Horrified..

Mum had to leave in embarrasement ( as did I )

The woman was upset. She certainly wasnt dead, and later I realised she wasnt Nursey…

They did share, the name..

Hate it. Bank balance depreciation should be celebrated once every 15 years.

Agree?

I was pretty emotional at my day job today as my work colleague’s last day arrived. We have been side by side five days a week for under a year and we clicked immediately. He is one of my good friends and someone on my wavelength. We have had some fine times in the workplace, and we will have even better ones in the future.

Always remember buddy, we will find the answers in music.

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I was on the bus this evening where a small group of youths who go to St Andrew’s RC Secondary in Glasgow ( Yeah guys, I know the uniform, maybe I will phone Bruce Malone your head teacher ) were shouting abuse at their fellow passengers. Naturally as someone as distinctive as me was heckled by them on the journey.

I was delighted to be called Buddy Holly, even though I don’t dress like him or wear glasses. I rate Buddy Holly higher than Franz Ferdinand.

What was intriguing in their ned behaviour, is that they got off the bus and dived into the bus shelter and produced ink pens, then proceeded to draw over the shelter. Ive not seen that before - well not live in a busy bus shelter.. Graffetti to me always appeared like magic in bus shelters, usually overnight.. The bus was at the stop for some time due to a semi breakdown, so I had a good look at their ned hieroglyphics which always impresses me how neat they write. ‘ L.C.C ‘ and ‘Shows Yer Tits ‘ were augmenting the sterility of modern day bus shelter design.

Ned Hieroglyphics should be an art exhibition. I wonder if the Glasgow Artist Stuart Murray would care to comment on this? A night of ned hieroglyphics with buckfast tonic wine handouts instead of the château de pretentious red wine from Asda would be on the menu, with rich teas and kingfisher cheese from the corner shop.

I just heard the first advert for this year’s Xmas on Radio Clyde.

Roy Wood/Wizard’s wish is going to be granted…

Ive been able to go to the toilet unaided for about, hmmm 25/26 years now and my toilet ritual consists of waste expulsion, toilet paper, flushing, then hand washing.

It is a very simple process and requires the minimum of effort. But NO! modern humans (particularly men) cant grasp this process and there is never a day that goes by that one encounters someone who either: does not flush or wash hands after a visit to the WC.

My main gripe is the non flushing brigade. I don’t like plops, nor do I want to see or pee over someone else’s plop that can sometimes resemble twiglets floating in toilet water. The only way to educate people in my opinion is to introduce a Toilet Flushing Fine.

The procedure could be executed by installing some kind of sensor in a toilet cubicle that can detect if a person has flushed. (I am not an inventor so I cant go into technical details - but that’s the main idea) So, if a person has decided to create an art installation in the toilet water without flushing, a small alarm would go off which would show up on a toilet concierge’s control panel.

The concierge finds the toilet artist and takes down his/her particulars, sends them to the police who then fine the offender under the Toilet Offence Act. (Probably £200)

If anyone can add to, or polish this turd of an idea please drop me a line.