70/365: Funny thing memory

19 May

Whenever I get an idea for a post and have no time to write it I scribble down a few words or phrases that will almost certainly make me remember exactly what I was thinking. Almost certainly. Well usually. On 23rd April I wrote this…

“Loud sweary baby horse in the morning me”

And since the 24th April I’ve been bashing my head against a brick wall trying to figure out what the fark I was thinking.

Let me break it down.

Noone would call me quiet. Aggressive, opinionated, incoherent, moaning faced P.I.T.A. yes. I’ll admit to “loud”.

I used to work in a bar that sold shots for 50p (it was a loooong time ago) on Sunday afternoons. The classy clientele would purchase me alcohol and run a book on who I’d tell to go f*** themselves first (in a nice way of course – they kept coming back). I’ll definitely admit to the “sweary”… I don’t think it’s a typo… I don’t think I meant “sweaty”.

Now it just gets odd. “Baby horse”. ?Eh? Baby elephant maybe. Baby horse? Foal? This is the point where I lose all connection to myself.

Aaah hang on – stream of conscious real-time epsisode. I’ve remembered. The next sentence about GPs, the internet and the old manse all make much sense now. Yay.

This must be the equivalent of retracing my steps to trigger repressed memories (like where the hell my keys/Visa/clothes have gone to – they do “go” – I can hear them sniggering).

I’ll just go expand on that so I don’t forget again.

Here’s a totally unrelated and wholly irrelevant shot of my littlie running into his big brother’s arms (before knocking him over and sending him flying). Back at Scone palace. I’ll be getting my money’s worth from that season ticket this year.

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