This is the first computer I've managed to get to all day for blogging purposes. There was a computer in our hotel lobby but its advertisement as 'high speed' was a lie. It perhaps was high speed in the 1980's, but after typing two paragraphs and watching them slowly appear in front of me over 3 minutes, I decided that it would have been quicker to attach a blog to a pigeon and throw it in the direction of the blogger offices. I am now in Glasgow airport using one of the few computers I can find and it happens to be by a small 3 year old girl that is throwing the sort of tantrum protest that the burning monks who protested against Vietnam would have been in awe of. She doesnt appear to need to set herself on fire as she is just lying down, bashing her hands and feet on the floor and making the sort of wailing noise only bats and dogs can hear. Her mum is just standing there looking defeated. Its a horrible and yet enjoyable sight.
I also only have 11 minutes to type this as I only had enough for that amount of time. The credit crunch has obviously hit Glasgow so hard that time is now purchasable. So as a result I'm afraid this will be a slight blog fob off with extremely brief accounts of the last 48 hours in Glasgow:
My Glasgow accent is so believable that I can avoid getting punched in a noodle bar at 3.30am by being drunk enough to think that its funny to pretend not to be from London.
The Stand in Glasgow is now only of my favourite venues ever.
Frankie Boyle brought his children along to Comedy 4 Kids. I'm not sure what they thought but I am worried that they were disappointed by the lack of swearing.
Jude, Sarah and Helen are much better drinkers than me.
If you are going to plan a trip to Glasgow try not to do it when the biggest local football team game is happening.
I met another Twitterererer in the real world. Lovely to meet you @misswizz and thanks for the lift and not killing us by driving into a bus.
Susan Calman has the best mini ever.
The Old Fruitmarket is not where they sell elderly homosexuals like Peter O Toole.
Paul Sinha will not stop correcting my grammer. I can't work out if this is because he is pedantic, or if I speak like a child. Probably both.
Silky said both 'gobshite' and 'paulayatesisabigfatdeadlezza' at Comedy 4 Kids. We are awaiting the complaints, although he did say them fast so we hope no one noticed.
Anyone with Tiernan in their name as first or surname is ace.
It is impossible to go a whole weekend in Scotland without getting in a cab with a racist cab driver.
Rich gets far too upset about having a limp flag.
I had a 'energy boosting' smoothie that actually worked. I know. Who'd have thought?
Right, the little 'you have two minutes' thingy has popped up so that's all. Will put more interesting things in tomorrow's blog when I stop sleeping. I am going to sleep a lot. Now I'm off to fight for my seats on Easyjet. Its such a shame you can't take riot sheilds through customs.
GrammAr.
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