Shite wasn't it? We didn't have any of those funny glasses, so me Dad looked at it through a colander, just like they said to do on the BBC website. Now he reckons he's strained his eyes. Woof. Of course we weren't in Jockland, to get the best view of it, thankfully. I'd be surprised if anyone up there even noticed it. "It's going to go a bit darker and colder than normal" - not a lot to go on if you're a Sweaty Sock there is there? It does that every fuckin day up there. This Jock moves to London looking for work. After about a month he goes home to visit his Mum in Glasgow. "Well, our wee Hamish, how's London then, so it is?" his Mum asks when he gets home. "Nae too bad Ma, except the bloke in the flat below me keeps bangin on his foockin ceiling all day and night, and the wee lassie above me screams and wails constantly, it dee's me fookin heed in it dees," he says. "Try not to let it bother yee too much, just ignore it if yee can," advises his Mum. "Aye Ma, that I dee, I just keep playin me bagpipes...."
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.