"Does your conscious bother U"...

Well, frankly yes it does..

Had to stay at home having finally realised that it just isn't normal to have a headache for four days in a row. So I felt rest may cure the problem but it didn't. I am so tired of feeling under the weather and in classic Grumpy fashion I put the entire blame on this country and the Chernoybl effect! I've never been so susceptible to disease in my life.

Beautiful warm weather for the time of year had me deciding to walk to the Capio Axess as I knew I'd be there for a while, so book in hand off I went.
Suffice to say the book is finished and if you enjoy a good book I can recommend "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho which was in turn recommended to me by someone who lives to the content already.
When I turned the last page I realised that the lifetime of this blog is only two days before it gets shut down. As you have already read its "Turn the page" on the 16th and the blogs final chapter, which has been a very important one for me, will be closed. Not sure for how long but I have received some positive feedback and I also realise I have some unfinished stories but they will have to wait and / or be replaced by new adventures.

The three hour wait finally ended up with no specific answers to what was, to be fair, a non specific problem.I didn't really expect a catscan to look for a tumour the size of a basketball.
I was stupid enough to mention that I had played the previous weekend which isn't very sensible.The Doc wasn't the friendliest which would have been nice having waited so long..
Anyway,350 kronks later and I'm stacked with Citadon and Volteraine, a speedball mix I'm informed I can mix.The old RED Triangle boxes now disused by the state.

(By the way, The Police are playing the Globe, Stockholm and if you wanna listen to the best rim shot drummer go and listen...Copeland is the man for rimshots and I don't mean toilet jokes!)

So , to end on Mr Cohen,

So were drinking and were dancing
And the band is really happening
And the johnny walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
Shes the angel of compassion
And shes rubbing half the world against her thigh
Every drinker every dancer
Lifts a happy face to thank her
And the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
All the women tear their blouses off
The men they dance on the polka-dots
And its partner found and partner lost
And its hell to pay when the fiddler stops
I loved you when our love was blessed
And I love you now theres nothing left
But sorrow and a sense of overtime
And I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It something in betwen, I guess

Its closing time.............