psssst...

For the first time since getting my hair cut a completely random bloke asked me if I wanted to buy any hash this evening. It used to happen not exactly frequently but far more often back in the days of lengthy hair (along with the occasional offer of buying some speakers out of the back of a white van which used to ply its trade amongst students wandering up and down Causewayside between campuses which was alleged to be a ruse operated by undercover fuzz) and which always amused me as I assumed it was partly my appearance which attracted their attention. I've always half-suspected the wannabuysomehash people of being the polices too but am anyway quite safe from their temptations as cannabis is not so much a narcotic as an emetic as far as my metabolism is concerned.

As I was walking in entirely the opposite direction forty minutes later 1.68 miles eastward after a roundabout wander I overtook another similar random bloke as he asked someone walking towards him the same question. It may even have been the same random bloke each time; the voice was similar but any voice asking such questions of random passers-by is likely to sound similar to a certain extent.

Upon reaching the end of what I can safely describe as an horribly fecking long week I decided to celebrate my relatively early finish with a nice relaxing film at the Cameo but was thwarted by the bulb on their digital projector twice giving up and requiring a few-minute break in order to cool down. The blokey doing the apologising offered anyone a refund if they wished after the second failure but everyone stayed only to immediately rise and head for the ticket desk twenty seconds later when it broke a third time. Slightly unfortunate as I don't think I'll have time to get back at any point over the weekend for a second try. Managed to find a few of my on-the-list DVDs on the way back which I shall watch shortly after a nice cup of relaxing nettly tea.