Marco Jacksonovic

Crazy What You Could've Had
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2004-07-18 22:39:02 (UTC)

Edinburgh. Thursday. First Entry

Funny day today - I woke up at lark's fart to get ready
and realised I already was ready, so I had nothing to
really do. This was a good thing and allowed me to fool
around on my computer and ruin it. So I did that. Funny
how things work out.

Anyway, my lift to Edinburgh (Didi) arrived long after my
Grandad's 9.30 visit, but substantially before the post
(Uncle Pat, Wild Surf CD2). This was a good thing, unlike
his decision to head towards Leeds instead of Manchester
on the motorway. This moronic decision was about-faced,
and we were on our way.

Its a long way, Edinburgh, and deciding to use as many
service stations as possible was probably not the wisest
of ideas. We passed Bitch. Birch, sorry, I misread it on
the day, too, but once we were on the M6 we called at 3 or
4. This was largely because Didi had a residual stomach
problem after his graduation 2 days prior and the
subsequent drinking binge. (I congratulate him,
incidentally, on being officially better than me at French
now).

Sandwiches, and mainly sweets were bought on the way up,
but the jelly babies were importantly for later. Cassettes
came and went, and much singing along was had. Mainly
because its such a bloody long way (not for you Americans,
you could get there before breakfast) we took an age to
get there, but Didi's illness did get us to stop in a
small village en route. It was Crawford, the map tells me,
between the Junctions 14 on the M74. (Yes, the Junctions
14. I don't know).

Anyway, he made a pool of saliva, and I had a wander and
noticed that everyone seemed to be a Rangers fan. I think
we were both hoping the cute girls in the short tartan
skirts would appear, but neither did, and only the decent
bloke on the way out was of any sort of purpose to our
stop there.

Dolphinton came and went, and a picture of Brian Turner
(The popular TV chef) was applied to the dashboard area.
He is the uncle of a friend of ours, so he's always
popular, and never more since his nephew moved in with
another of our school colleagues. Not school mates, as
neither of us really liked him.

Eventually we got to the outskirts of Edinburgh, and
(importantly) lost the instructions how to get to where we
needed to be. The railway station was what we were working
on, until another map was produced and we sort of
staggered to our destination station with..not consummate,
but relative ease.

Ticket purchased, we went into the hostel and had a bit of
a rest. Nice work.

WILT? Nice Dream (Demo) - Radiohead


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