It's taken longer than I thought it would to get to 750 posts, but a slowdown doesn't mean a stoppage.
Once I whittle this old life of mine down to one source of income, one place of rest and a handy little scribbling desk I'll be able to pay more mind to old Radgery and give this here interlog a proper talking to.
I'm here now though, some dental work that went awry leading to a broken head, a proper ouch of an ear infection and the ringing in sick to work. Proper sick but proper bored, the guilt of an early morning call to the boss offset by his understanding and my own need to poke and prod at the sore bits in peace.
"Stop at it! Leave it alone!"
Here now with the telly off, with the window open, with the tinnitus ears and a half drunk coffee, weakened by too short a spell in the French press.
I'm thinking about Mike Scott's hat, which I encountered on Saturday in the Italian place off Nassau Street. Just myself, herself, Mike Scott's hat, Mike Scott and some boring dolt of a young one accompanying him.
Why a Waterboy should have to sit and listen to the witterings of a Krystle-faced chickenhead was beyond me, but there they were at the next table, his attentiveness and Scottish brogue matched by her tales of how she fancied some young fella but he was paying no mind.
She was guilty of not asking questions, just prattling on while Mike Scott's hat (featuring Mike Scott) took it all in, until a good hour later when she queried about his favourite place.
He paused a while, considered it, before saying that he didn't know. Different places held different charms for him, but as I waited to hear him expand on the point she came back in with tell of a 'text message from that dick Steve.'
Theirs was an incongruous lunch date.
As I got up to leave I turned and told him I liked his music very much, when all I know are the hits, and he thanked me for the compliment. I felt like a fake fanboy gobshite but turned it to my advantage when I met herself outside.
"Fuckin' Mike Scott," I said. "He just asked me if I was THE Radge, or radgery.com fame. I told him to go fuck himself."
She laughed, did Shiny, where few others might have.