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Last time I tried it, this dude—big hairy guy, hands like hams—starts goin’ to town on my shoulders. “You’re so tense,” he says. No shit, pal, I hate everything! Felt like he was tryna seduce me with his kneadin’. Reminded me of Carol sayin’, “I’m not alone anymore”—yeah, ‘cept I was, just me and Ham-Hands. Made me madder than a badger in a trap. But—dammit—the knots in my back? Gone. Hated that it worked, hated it!

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Then, I decided to take a stroll down the High Street. It was a bit drizzly, typical Scottish weather, right? But I love it. The smell of rain on the pavement, the sound of it hitting the leaves. It’s kinda soothing. But then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zooms past me and splashes me with a puddle! I was soaked! I mean, seriously, who does that? I yelled after him, “Oi! Watch where you’re going!” But he just laughed and pedaled off. Little brat.

Minute’s silence held to remember Armadale and Blackridge councillor Stuart Borrowman