Disentangled

" - drifting apart like a plate tectonic - "

Thank you, Kaiser Chiefs, for that neat wee summary of undone college work, a home unprepared for winter, a probably-unfaithful partner and farrrrrr too much time spent -

"Spodnie" (pron. spod-ney-ah)

Courtesy of Painter Mannie fae work. (It strikes me that I maybe ought to be noting whether they're masculine or feminine nouns where applicable. But start that and I'll end up all bogged down in articles. Plus i cannae be arsed.)

(overheard at college)

"... 'course, you cannae get too pally wi' y'r bird's da', in case you have to give her the boot, eh?"

Dear God. I bet half the lesbians in construction were perfectly straight till they lugged in at college. Fuckit, where's me dungarees?

"Breakish"

Now, I've got two pronunciations for this one - Site Agent fae work assures me it's brekk-eesh, and he's a native speaker so he ought to know. But wee Whats'is-name fae college reckons it's breek-eesh, and he's from Skye where they've actually got an Upper Breakish and a Lower Breakish (make of that what you will), so he really ought to know too. Anyone..?

Wellllll, it's that time of year again, innit? Midsummer's but a distant memory; the dark and cold are closing back in; colour's fading to grey and the prospect of a bleak, endless Highland winter's drawing ever nearer.

I can feel my brain and body dulling daily; wee bits of joy, energy and suchlike closing down. My barful of happy, easy, wandering flotsam have dissipated, the big hazy welcome distilled to three grotty alkies in a caravan.

So!

I have decided to combat the descending gloom. With trousers.

The plan is, whenever I meet a native speaker of another language, I shall ask them how to say "trousers" in their native tongue, then post my findings. Spellings and phoenetics. Good, eh? Feel free to join in...

"Do ya need to shout? She's right next to you."

Take that, you ignorant, trumpeting, library-infesting bastards!!!

*smirk*

- aye so I moved house and haven't got the internet up and running yet. Thought it would be like losing a limb but it's nae that bad really... spend an awful lot of time sitting under the trees in my bin-salvaged deckchair and contemplating the universe instead... back at college next month so normal witterings will be resumed, for a few weeks anyway.

That's my 10-minute warning from the friendly librarian so best be off. I'm going to buy sausages and orange juice and the papers, and lounge over hangover breakfast for the remainder of the afternoon. Ahhhhh, it's a good old life so it is.

My poor wee laptop is on its last legs. Cramming this in quickly as poss before the bloody keyboard goes again

- and I've emptied it and got halfway through cleaning it, but now I've sat down and can't be arsed getting up again, and I don't reckon it would be too far-fetched to just learn to live with the stench of stilton mutating into a whole new life form, and - NO!!! Get up off your fat arse, pour yourself another bowl of water and get ON with it!!!

" - a hard time? No, you're getting on my tits actually, because everything I say you either can't hear me or you don't understand me, and I'm tired and I'm finding it irritating"

"Right, okay, bye then," muttered a pissed and sheepish Green-eyed Fisherman.

Gosh. Fancy that.