All posts by ricky

About ricky

Our hero is a thirty-something former New York lawyer from Scotland who was diagnosed as a potential zombie by a mad scientist, then suffered a catastrophic hemorrhagic stroke while making love. He's doing as well as could reasonably be expected now. See the "About" page for more details...

Tusk

I haven’t written much on the blog recently that’s directly about Brexit. Partly, the reason is that I’m continually hearing news stories and vox pops and politicians and business leaders on the radio banging on about it and I’m thinking –

Why do I keep hearing about this? What has this got to do with me? Why does this affect anyone I know?

Then I remember and I’m absolutely furious.

But, hey. Brexit isn’t all bad…

[Read on to find out the good stuff. But first, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter]

Continue reading Tusk
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Eight Tracks Two

On Christmas Day, I put up a post that predicted the events of the first three months of 2019. Therein, Theresa May faked her own disappearance on Ben Nevis to run out the clock on a No Deal Brexit.

But Darling, didn't *you* suggest the Irish Backstop?"
And the last tablet I received said
“THOU SHALT NOT ACCEPT THE BACKSTOP”

For Easter 2019, I was going to have David Bowie rise from the dead, having observed that it was his death that had set the world on a single trip to hell in a hand basket. It was gonna be great stuff.

[So we’re doing something else? Find out what below.
But first, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.]

Continue reading Eight Tracks Two
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A Year In Review – Pt.1

Time is social. Harvests. Day and night. Diurnal clocks. Biorhythms and cycles. All that mushy wetware bio stuff I never learned but is real.

Long-suffering reader of the blog paul

The winter solstice was on Friday, and now we’re beginning the long dig out towards the long evenings of summer. So, as is traditional, let’s sit down in front of a big gold piano and reflect on the year.

Blap-Blap-Blap, beotches!
Yaas, Kween!

January (1)

As the annus horribilis that was 2018 dragged to an end, it seemed that 2019 could only be better. The Queen’s appeal that we put divisions behind us and simply make the best of what we had seemed like it was going to usher in an annus mirabilis as the newly refitted HMS Britannia prepared to begin its buccaneering voyage across an expectant world.

At home, Theresa May announced that she would be combining her passions of hiking and hating immigrants Doing Her Duty to the country by meeting the Hard-Working People of Our Precious Union™️ at the top of the highest peaks in each of Scotland, England, Wales and Northern Ireland.

“Theresa, do you remember that lovely new visitors’ centre atop Mount Snowdon?”

After the unexpected cancellation of the Mays’ trip to Snowdonia in Wales, they set off for Ben Nevis in Scotland in traditional wear for the English visitor on a day trip to the Scottish mountains – Theresa in leopard-print kitten heel hiking boots, and Dishy Philip in his preferred Savile Row suit and hipster glasses. As May Maynia gripped the country, enthusiastic Scots began their trek up the mountain…

January (2)

After the disappearance of the Mays in Glen Nevis, another popular favourite had to take to the House of Commons to announce the delay of the Meaningful Vote on the outcome of the UK’s Brexit negotiations with the European Union.

“The Government intends to proceed with the meaningful vote as soon as the Prime Minister is able to return to this Place” – Deputy Prime Minister David Lidington

Then, just as it seemed that the fabric of British society would rupture notwithstanding the desires of the Queen, the people were united by the empathy engendered by the release of the paperback of an astonishing new memoir on 22nd January…

Unflinching, mate.
“Are you sure that every word in this Year in Review is true?”

February

As the search for the Mays continued, questions began to be asked about the costs that were being incurred. Secretary of State for Scotland David Mundell indicated that he would resign if the costs of the rescue operation exceeded £30,000.

When it was pointed out that Mundell had previously backtracked on promises to resign relating to Brexit outcomes for the Common Fisheries Policy and differentiation for Northern Ireland, he upped the ante considerably.

The Viceroy speaks
“Let me be absolutely clear: In the event I don’t resign, I’ll resign.”

March

As Brexit-related turmoil continued, Gatwick Airport entered its fourth month of flight cancellation. After police had announced in December that the drone that had caused 140,000 passengers to be stranded at the airport simultaneously:

  • had been discovered; and
  • had never existed

it emerged that Gatwick itself had never existed. The so-called airport was merely a hoax conjured by mentalist and illusionist Derren Brown. Each of the 140,000 stranded “passengers” was in fact a paid actor. Brown himself had travelled in time to turn-of-the-century Ohio to deliver the plans for powered flight to the Wright brothers, Orville and Wilbur.

Derren Brown and Wilbur Wright, 1903

Meanwhile, popular favourite David Lidington returned to the House of Commons to update the country on the status of Brexit.

Go on then, you draw David Lidington from memory.
“We must honour the PM by effecting the moment of her greatest triumph on 29 March, 2019”

To be continued…

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Be Yr Own Brain Experiment II

No so long ago, I was reading the final proof of my survival memoir, Stroke, before my publisher Sandstone Press sent it off to the printer. If you can’t wait till January for the – I’m reliably informed – beautiful hard copy artefact, you can get a brilliant deal and receive the e-book before Christmas here. Just tell ’em Stroke Bloke sent you, and leave a complimentary review. 😉

Replacing the original pull quote: 'Wet-yourself-funny'
C’mon, folks. You’re making my book blush!

It’s interesting to reflect on the events of six years ago, now that our lives are in some sort of equilibrium again. Notwithstanding Stroke Bloke Jr’s efforts! And the fact that the big push for Stroke: The Book is in the offing.

[Check out the Apoplexy Newsletter for more wryness and more personal insights.]

Continue reading Be Yr Own Brain Experiment II

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Treasure Islands

Happy RLS Day! Robert Louis Stevenson is 168 today.

Hoping flattery will get me everywhere
Don’t worry, Bob. You don’t look a day over 43.

He really doesn’t though, does he? Look at the light in those wee eyes! To look at him, you wouldn’t believe that he would be dead by the end of the next year.

[For more personal and whimsical reflections, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Treasure Islands

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Political Football

In recent days, I’ve been cutting down on my consumption of BBC Radio. I think that it’s incumbent upon the responsible citizen to keep themselves informed so they can participate in democracy, but I’m increasingly unsure that listening to Today or Good Morning Scotland or The World At One or PM is a good way to do that. Particularly now Eddie Mair has moved on.

Stick with me – there’s fitba and a bangin choon at the end of this one
Check the Apoplexy Tiny Letter for a soundtrack to keep you going to the bottom of the page.
Continue reading Political Football

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Tour de France

For some reason, I was thinking the other day that I’ve “only” ever been to France once.

Because we're, like, super conpetemt.
“Hey, look! They’ve got the same editorial team as BBC News!

And I was thinking, maybe I should try to fix that while I still can.

[My whimsy’s just about been extinguished, tbh. Find the last of it in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter] Continue reading Tour de France

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Making Everything Better

Hi there!

I’m aware that the posting schedule here at apoplectic.me has been a bit erratic recently. Sorry about that.

Nice hat, mate.
Erratic? I’ll show ye erratic, sonny – Thom Yorke

If you’re of a mind to follow me on the tweetie box or like and follow my writer’s page on Facebook or sign up for the Apoplexy Tiny Letter, the excuse for this will be revealed early on Thursday afternoon, Edinburgh time.

In the meantime, let’s stick to the stroke news, shall we? Continue reading Making Everything Better

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Modus Operandi

So, the last post here on apoplectic.me cast a pretty sneering eye over Public Health England’s Heart Age Calculator. And if you think that an eye can’t sneer, welcome to the stroke blog.

Nah, the boy did ok.
‘Aren’t you a bit young for this, sonny?’

That’s pretty much the modus operandi around here – bitter cynicism leavened with fun. Skip down to the bottom of this post if you just want to hear some of the best Scottish pop ever.

But it turns out that this time, I wasn’t alone in my cynicism.

[Maybe there’s actual upbeat stuff in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter – check it out] Continue reading Modus Operandi

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Young At Heart

Mrs Stroke Bloke and I have been catching up with the BBC Scotland documentary series Rip It Up: The History Of Scottish Pop.

In a sufficiently leisurely fashion that we haven’t reached this yet:

A deathless classic, I’m sure you’ll agree.

[For the most leisurely stroll through Scottish pop possible, check the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Young At Heart

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