Never Mind The Hillside Strangler...

This guy's the Hillfoot Wrangler.

There's an old man at a window. He watches. He watches cars in the train station carpark outside his house. Hillfoot train Station.

The parking bays outside his flat are for residents only and once I parked near there for two minutes to go to a postal sorting office. I must have been just in "his" road because he vanished from his window and appeared at his front door and stared at me when I came back to my car and even as I turned and drove off.

A few days ago it happened again. I drove into "his" street and turned and parked in a valid space. I was tempted to drive into his road and stick the car up the kerb again. He stood stock still at his window watching. He must be there all day. Maybe he's got no telly. It's like he's just waiting to catch someone and argue with them. I'm going to park there more often.

Golf Range

There's a golf range close to me and I went for the second time last night. Took the kids along as it's great fun battering the balls about. Most of my friends play golf and go abroad for a week just to play and have a bevvy. I'm not part of that elite crowd though.

Having never played golf in my life I thought I'd be shite and would be slicing the ball everywhere or missing it. Imagine my surprise when I managed to hit it straight for 150-200 yards almost every time. It's a piece of piss. Very satisfying.

The golf range is in a leafy suburb of Glasgow and the carpark was filled with Mercs, Audis, and other executive style cars...and an L-reg burgundy Nova. How that must piss them off.

I'd picked up a couple of clubs for a fiver each in Braehead at the weekend.

Onto the range and the kids started popping out the balls and I was impressing them with my hits.

A few minutes after we got there a skinhead in a Metallica t-shirt came in with a bag of clubs and set up in the next stall behind me. Soon after we were deafened by a huge bang, and a ball landed at my feet. The stalls are covered by a tin roof which is about 10 feet high and protrudes about 4 feet out beyond the stalls. He had been using a driver and managed to hit the ball straight up the air and hit the roof. I moved stall.

Next in was a procession of well-to-dos in their soft comfortable shoes, pastel coloured slacks or cotton shorts, t-shirts and checked sleeveless jumpers with little logos on the chest. I overheard a conversation between two pals who each had just returned from holiday. Florida and Italy. Then one guy's son is telling how he got all A's in his exams. I'm surprised they let me in here.

One small woman dressed appropriately in a soft yellow jumper and check slacks looked very good, big bag of clubs, all with their little hats on. Until she tried to hit the ball. It wasn't just a practice swing. You don't take five or six practice swings surely.

Then there were the guys who were only hitting the ball about twenty feet. I had to suppress the urge to laugh out loud.

So get down the golf range and watch the "experts" play.

What's Small, Pink and Wrinkly?

On Argyle Street recently, I saw a vision in pink coming towards me.

Top to toe she was dressed in bright pink, not soft pastel pinks, but really strong colours.
On her head she had on a pink headband around her short dark brown ponytail. A pink t-shirt with a pink vest top stretched over it, large pink faux pearls hanging down low and bouncing left and right with some momentum.

For her pins, she had leggings of course, in pink. I can't rermember what she had on her feet as I was trying to take it all in and not stare too much on the way past. She saw me staring though and think she caught the expression on my face.

She was quite short and round as well, but what made it worse was she was about 60 years old. I heard other people making comments and turning round to laugh. What a shame, they shouldn't mock.

Tits Oot

On Friday I was on the train home from Queen Street and a woman got on at Charing Cross. 5pm on a Friday. I was expecting nothing weird.

She had a young baby in a pram, and she proceeded to arrange her bags, take off her coat and get herself settled in her seat, then she got the baby out of the buggy. I happened to have noticed that she was a lady of large proportions in the chest area. I'm a man. I see these things. She was also very attractive.

I was sitting against the window, an old man opposite me reading a book and a man to my right reading a large newspaper. She sat in the empty seat in our group of four and sat the baby on her lap. She chatted away to the baby for a couple of minutes.

Now, I wasn't expecting this.

She lifted her top with her free hand, pulled down her bra cup and squeezed a very large boob out and sat it there. She then fiddled with the baby a bit, moving it around on her knees, so her arm bumped her boob back and forth. She then arranged the baby and let it clamp on to her nipple.

The old man opposite me looked to his left and his eyes went wide. He quickly looked the other way, out of the window. The man to my right couldn't see shit as he was holding his large newspaper up in front of him, and he couldn't really just put it down so he could watch the show.

I couldn't really help but have a few looks, but as the old joke goes, the baby's head was spoiling the view. A couple of times though she did shift the baby so it became detached and she was left sitting there with her boob completely uncovered.

I can't deny it brightened up my train journey, and I'm hoping she gets on my train again. I think it's good that women can do this and feel comfortable enough to do it without fear of people asking them go somewhere else.

If there was some law proposed for this kind of thing, I'd vote for it.

Burberry x 5

Now there's Burberry and there's fake Burberry.

I recall a few years ago, there was a rise in people wearing Burberry, but unfortunately for the Burberry company, it was mostly 'undesirables.'   Neds.

At the start of the week, I passed the job centre on Renfield Street and outside were 8 neds. In full uniform. Tracksuits a-plenty.

I haven't seen Burberry caps for some time but as I walked past I saw that 4 of these guys had the fake Burberry caps perched on the back of their heads. I stared at them as I walked past. Couldn't help it. When I passed them I saw another three neds coming towards me. All wearing tracksuits. One of them was holding his fake Burberry cap in his hand but doing something you don't see too often. He was busy stuffing it down the front of his tracksuit and into the front of his underwear. God knows why. Maybe his tracksuit pockets aren't big enough.