Mr Boom?An odd looking nurse had popped her head around a door and was looking around the waiting room like a bewildered owl. Here.I raised a hand and tried not to cry myself a river of self-pity.Would you like to come through?

Listen. This place isn't a bottomless money pit, we have to work smarter with what we've got. What's not to understand?Blex looked around the ragtag bunch of heroes he was addressing, one of which and perhaps the hero with the most shaved of testicles was my good self.

Gimme some of that cheap ass.I grinned at my laptop. What the hell are you doing?Squawked the Good Lady in alarm as she saw me cackling and reaching below the table. Relax baby, I am on the hunt. The bargain hunt!The Good Lady visibly relaxed out of her defensive clutching skirt pose as she saw I wasn't reaching for my Manaconda but instead was simply scratching my knee.

The red warnings were out. Storm Euoqewwn was officially hitting the fair city of Glasgow.Storm Euoqewwn, an odd name for a storm. It might seem hard to pronounce but you just clear your throat as if you have a lot of phlegm and whinny at the end. Boom, that's you said it. Easy.

It was a few days after the New Year. As tradition had stipulated for the Scots, I had been outrageously drunk many times. Indeed, it could be said that I was mawkit which despite what the internet tells you is a Scottish/Glasgow term for extremely drunk indeed. Filthy drunk.

Are you sure you can't stay in tonight?The Good Lady was wearing a party dress, boots and stirring at a pot on the hob.Whilst I found this scene witchily alluring, I remained focussed on my task of polishing my Hanish - a stout, nobbly length of wood about a foot long resembling one of those warty penises sported by tortoises and men from Colombia.