Miles of tiles

impossible songs escape to Freuchie



impossible songs

Scallops + Maths

Scallops are an underrated food. Firstly despite their slimy texture they taste good. Not sure what comes second...so taste always overcomes texture in the mathematics of food consumption (a new science and means of expression I’ve just invented), though look, naming conventions and temperature are vital also. An ideal formula would be Ts/Tx + l (te x nc) = a good dinner. (Ts = taste, Tx = temperature, l = look, te = temperature and nc = naming conventions). To this formula you could add c=company, e = environment and aa = accompanying alcohol. A really good meal possibly leading onto a good night out and even more might look like:

Ts/Tx + l (te x nc) + (c/e+aa)+aa.

I think I’ll stop on this now otherwise I may go a little too far.

First Miniscule

I had my scallops in the Boathouse, South Queensferry looking over at the “Blood Red Bridge” as described by the Mayor of Lazytown, aka HRH Alex Salmond, First Minister of the new republic. Alex is never one to understate or avoid exaggerating anything, a great word mincer in the Tony Benn/Blair tradition. You imagine great tanks of saliva being prepared by SNP minions every day so that the great orator can be lubricated by pumps and pressure to navigate tongue, throat, vocal chords and breathing resources around the wonderful and wise things he has to say. He has to say them as they cannot be kept in, so deep and dynamic is his wit and his wisdom. Ali just had fish and chips, but oh, how we danced.

When funny noises come from your car.

One technique is to ignore the noises or imagine they are being produced by a trapped squirrel and nothing mechanical or important. Denial is a useful human resource. The noise may of course be from a foreign object stuck to the tyre and it will drop of as your drive faster. This never works however. Then you think it’s a loose item in the (empty) boot, or something under your seat or something to do with the road surface. After a while you become more irritated and you stop and get out and walk around the car, creaking your worn out old back to “see” the noise, as it were. Cars however tend to come covered in car bodies that cunningly hide all the hidden defects and the sources of all strange noises. Bugger. At this point you head for Tom Farmers or Kwik Fit in order to be ritually humiliated by a young fitter (not a mechanic) who will happily charge you £150 for a black piece of metal about 6” long: but looking on the bright side you get a free cup of coffee.