Sick as a Traditional English Breakfast

I should apologize to the English breakfast as it is quite delicious really. Eggs, toast, beans in tomato sauce, back bacon (more meaty than american bacon which they call streaky rashers which consequently also sounds a lot like poop stains so I don't dig that term), tomatoes baked, and of course this random side of mushrooms. Now, keep in mind, yes that sounds like cooking up all your old garbage (jay you just saw Uncle Buck so the phrase "Holy smokes he's cookin our garbage" should ring a bell and be quite apropos here). But really it's quite delicious and filling. You can't eat it everyday though, not too healthy, but stilll quite tasty.

But, as a result of being in the UK again, I managed to come home sick as a dog. It's one of those colds that makes you cough and cough and cough till your stomach muscles hurt. Clembie will remember this as he bruised ribs doing this once.

But Glasgow, it's a nice town. Not nearly as rancid and foul and dank and crappy as most folks might think. In fact the locals are quite friendly really and I walked up and down the river Clyde many times at night to enjoy the view. Some fine (or not so fine, please pick up on my facetiousness here) stopped me and told me I have a beautiful accent and that it was lovely to meet me. Then one of them kissed my hand and asked how old I thought they were. When i said 21 they said 17. So I bid these plump but affectionate lassies goodbye, so as not to find myself in an illegal threesome.

Parkinson's disease is a complicated and very sad disease. I was working in Scotland while I was there at this congress for the European Federation of Neurological Societies where the main topic was treatments and approaches to PD. I learned a great deal but man science, oh boy lots o science. The whole time I kept looking at my hands and thinking "Essential tremor, thank god you aren't parkinson's disease."

More later, I need to go cough up a lung.