WHAT'S IN A NAME?

The Clubber. 

"Ur ye dancin'?"

"Ur ye askin'?"

Naw, ah'm no.

The Glaswegian mating ritual commences.

Or mibee not.

Strangely this is not a blog about the nocturnal activities of Scottish teenagers, or even of an extremely social person with Autism.

This was originally conceived as a Blog of Anger & Rage.

A place to rail against the perceived injustices dished out by society, the media, or even the Hand of Fate.

Obviously I must have cooled off (or at least sobered up) in the last five years.

As up until yesterday, I had no inkling that this page ever existed.

So, what to do now?

Use it or lose it?

Well, in my mellow old age I'm not sure I have any need for a place to, metaphorically, bludgeon public figures into submission anymore.

I'm not even sure I have time to write screeds of self-indulgent doggerel about pretty much nothing either.

I suppose I could tell you a story.

Yes, I may do that.

I may start with expanding on the original concept for The Clubber's Page.

Then, at a whim, I may let flights of fancy whisk may where the will.

Yes.

This seems a reasonable starting point.

A fairly loose arrangement.

Let's run with that.

"Mibbe am ur dancin', naw?..."

DJ.