Ah ha ha ha … I’m sooo full of shit! I’m trying to
win a shit-eating contest live life to the fullest. No wonder! Ha ha ha … #iamfoolish
Okay, so after Dublin, we went to Scotland, where we saw the TARDIS and climbed the tower with all those fucking steps. Click there for the damn pictures, okay? Ha ha ha …
So? More photos? Why not? Less typing. Good!
This was in Edinburgh, which I never did figure out how to pronounce correctly. Is it Edin-burg or Edin-boro? Or what?
I really loved the way public rest rooms over there were called “toilets.” I mean, seriously, that’s what they are. You don’t go into a room like that to take a nap. Eww. Gross. So … rest room is just a
euphemism bullshit term for toilet.
I have no fucking idea where we are in this picture, but I’m smiling and my husband is managing to smile, too. Ha ha ha … #iamfoolish
In this photo, I’m trying so hard to block out the screaming in my head and I’m a bit whacked out on dystonia drugs that don’t really work, but I’m upright and I choose to be happy, no matter what. #iamfoolish
We’re still in Scotland. I’m getting around to England. Really!
I think this was taken outside that park in Edinburgh, where the Scott Monument with all the freaking stairs was. Maybe.
Oh, yeah. When we were in Glasgow, we stayed at a really cool hotel called the Abode. And we went out for dinner at some place I won’t name, because I can’t even remember the damn name. But I had my first chicken curry in the UK there.
This is important, because it reminded me of Red Dwarf. Any Red Dwarf fans out there? I used to watch Red Dwarf every Saturday night/Sunday morning, right after Doctor Who on Maryland Public Television, back in the 1990s.
This was waaaay back before I had dystonia, when I was still practicing law and in my first writers group. In fact, one of the members of that group recommended both shows, as I recall. She’s an author who writes under the name E.D. Baker, and I totally knew her when. And she’s really awesome. Thanks,
Betsy E.D., for pointing to Doctor Who and Red Dwarf! You are the best.
“Scary?” he said.
“Exactly!” I said, after we met.
He even bent over and kissed my hand. Just like Bill. Wow! Uncanny.
Paul, Trevor (his awesome friend), my husband and I went to Cafe Nero for espresso and/or tea, depending on whether the drinker was actually British. Ha ha ha … #iamfoolish
Since I may only be secretly British, I prefer espresso. However, next time I’m in Britain, I’ll give the tea a go.
My mother taught me that it’s only fair to try something at least once before rejecting it, because you never know.
My husband’s taking the photo. From left to right, you have Paul, Trevor and me, squeezing my hand between my thigh and smiling my shit-eating grin, while trying to stay upright and coherent.
More than once during the
drug trip, I’d stare into space, blogging in my head thinking. Then, I’d realize, I need to be here now. In the moment. Focus!
In fact, at one point, all three guys said, “What are you looking at?” To me. And they said it in unison, but I didn’t even notice. So I turned to my husband and said, “I’m just thinking.” Which I’d been saying
a thousand several times throughout the trip.
And where have I heard this shit before? Ha ha ha …
One more photo of Brentwood, okay?
Isn’t that the most awesome photo ever?
You know, if my theory is right and there are cosmic producers, perhaps my dead friend Bill led me to find Paul’s blog.
Hey, you never know, right?
I can totally say that, because Paul said I did a bloody
good decent British accent. Right, Paul? I hope you weren’t just being nice. Ha ha ha …
BTW, my husband is also bilingual.
See? Isn’t that awesome?
We need to travel waaaay more.
And I need waaaay more drugs. Maybe. Ha ha ha … Kidding, of course. Say no to drugs. Unless they’re the right ones. Or something.
Okay, so the Sex Pistols. On with the show! More photos later. Maybe.
PS: I wish I could meet you guys and have a cuppa soon, but there’s a great big body of water between us now. I need a TARDIS more than ever!