Solitude & All Its Friends

With my wife and daughter up in the north east of England on a visit to my spouses parents, I have the freedom of chez Strachan this weekend.

So after concluding this blog I can indulge myself as I so wish. Without thought for anyone (apart from perhaps the swan and the unicorn) I can dine on swan, drink unicorn milk cocktails and play Dragon’s Bollocks III on the Playstation until my hearts content.

If I so desire, I can wear my pj bottoms, scruffy t-shirt, ermine cape and crown all day without having to explain why I’m dressed so ridiculously, and where the hell I got a crown from!

I’ve no intention of stepping outdoors all weekend, so I care not one jot that it’s raining outside. As long as it’s not raining in my heart, I’ll forgo the pleasures of a brisk walk for a day. If I want to top up my Vitamin D levels I’ll just turn up the brightness on my laptop screen.

Image result for Solitude

I mentioned above that if I so wished I could sit playing Dragon’s Bollocks III on the Playstation. However, there is no chance of that coming to pass for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, I doubt there is a electronic game called Dragon’s Bollocks III. That monicker is a fictional name, which manifested from deep inside my brain where it was filed under ‘Miscellaneous’.

Secondly, even if it did exist I couldn’t play the game as I’ve not got a Playstation, or indeed any other type of video game consoles. This is for the very simple reason of finding no fulfilment whatsoever from indulging in gaming.

At one point I thought this dislike was a generational thing. Me joining a club of midlife crisis men who refuse to accept these games, which they perceive aren’t as fulfilling as those of their youth. A Luddite resistance in support of board games like Subbuteo, Kerplunk and Super Striker.

On reflect, though, it can’t be generational as my brother Ian is my age and he plays video console games occasionally. To clarify when I say he’s my age I meant of my generation, not that we a literally the same age, which would make us twins.

For my sibling and I to be twins our mother would have had to be in labour for 2 years, 1 month and 1 day! I know our Ian has been known to procrastinate at times but that would be bloody ridiculous.

If it had been the case we’d have had the McWhirter twins and the Guinness Book of Records team around when we were younger, verifying the details prior to adding it to their book of record breakers.

If they did pop around tour childhood home for a cuppa and a verification back then, I never saw them.

In those days, popping around to our house for a cuppa was a waste of time.. We were generally bereft of mugs, thanks to my clumsy brother’s knack of breaking them. It wasn’t until my mum got the bull from the local china shop to dry the cups (after she’d washed them), instead of my bro, that we saw a decrease in breakages.

There were no dishwashers in those days. Crockery and cutlery were rendered spick and span by hot water, Fairy Liquid, dishcloth and a tea towel. That’s if they were lucky to get back into the cupboards and draws. With our Ian undertaking a project of crockery genocide there was no guarantee of that.

Right, I need to bring this to a close as I need to locate the swan, unicorn, my ermine cape and crown. Until next time!

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