A Shot in the Arm

It’s two days since my first coronavirus shot and I’m delighted to report that, as yet, I’ve not encountered any adverse side affects to the vaccination…… Well, apart from a brief period yesterday when, thinking I was Scandinavian comedienne Sandie Toksvig, yours truly started conversing in Danish.

As GJ Strachan speaks none of Denmark’s mother tongue, I’m unsure what I was actually saying, and to be quite honest I’m uncertain the words being uttered were actually Danish. However, mercifully this was a fleeting inconvenience; yours truly soon returning to using my own mother tongue to converse confusingly.

Seriously, though, my only noticeable impact consequential of the coronavirus vaccine shot appears to be a slightly sore area around the injection site. A small price to pay for mitigating against the jeopard of contracting a deadly COVID strain.

Yours truly received the Pfizer vaccination, with the second and final jab to be administered in twelve weeks, or sixteen months, whichever’s the sooner. Only time will tell whether the concluding shot also fleetingly gives me illusions I’m Sandi Toksvig.

Irrespective of that, thank you Pfizer and the good old National Health Service (NHS) for producing and administering this gratis jab respectively. As these injections will, hopefully, be the catalyst to a more libertarian existence, this experience was quite literally a shot in the arm.

More out of the coronavirus induced existence than a grand show of self-discipline on my part, yesterday lunchtime I inelegantly scoffed my first McDonalds Big Mac sandwich in over a year. With that craving fulfilled and post feast bloated belly, I concluded afterwards it’ll not be a scratch I’ll be itching again until lockdown’s demise.

As a consequence of twelve months Big Mac bereft, yours truly ate the fodder with such vulgarity I’m convinced I wiped more of it’s legendary ‘secret’ sauce from my beard than was actually consumed.

Upon catching sight of my reflection in the car wing mirror, it was quite alarming to witness this ungainly sandwich consumption’d rendered me with a face appearing it’d been sandblasted. Subsequently, I concluded my dining motor skills appear to’ve diminished markedly during a long year in lockdown.

Like before being blighted by COVID’s unwelcome global odyssey, my experience of dining at Ronald’s place was a brew of conflicting emotions. Initially there are sentiments of brio, fuelled by fulfilling a Maccy D’s craving with food I ordinarily find perfectly palatable.

However, upon concluding the sandwich and fries cuisine that high diminishes as fast as the tuck is prepared and delivered. Leaving me feeling as bloated a python who’s just devoured a buffalo it’d constricted to death.

My feeling of ‘being full’, though, not a consequence of being over-faced by excessively large ‘prey’, moreover the food I’ve eaten disagreeing with my digestive system. I’ve no idea what they’re arguing about, but I wish they’d sort it out, because my digestion certainly has a problem when confronted by fast food.

Today sees the sixth anniversary of setting up my website and commencing on a blogging odyssey which up to press’s seen me pen around 2,300 narratives. Below is the very first blog I published on my website six years ago today:-


Here we are then my first ever blog. I wanted to write one for quite a while, in fact I can remember being sat at the table as a child in the early 1970’s advising my mum that very thing. She cracked me around the head and said “Don’t be so bloody stupid the internet hasn’t been invented yet! .. Now eat your Spangles on Toast!”

My wife Karen has encouraged me to channel the daft ideas I have to more meaningful use than just winding her up endlessly. But I couldn’t think of one so I’m writing this. I’m not 100% sure of how genuine Karen’s support is to this project, though, as she did add that she wanted me to write it in the middle of the M1 motorway!

Anyway, I’m going to have a go at write something down and see how it goes. I have titled it ‘The Eagle has Landed’ but that’s just a random title that has no relevance to any part of the blog. I could have just as easily titled it ‘Mr Harrison Goes to The Toilet’ but I didn’t, as you can see. Although, that is a great title so I might use it next time!

Excuse any bad English that you pick up on. I have a tendency to put adjectives in the wrong place and use unnecessary and excessive exclamation marks!!!!!!!!

However, I’m not overly worried about what the grammar police think, as it’s more about writing an interesting, hopefully humorous, narrative. “When’s he gonna flipping start. I’ve got Corrie to watch!” I hear you cry.

So here we go.

It has been a dream of mine for a while to write something that is interesting, funny and more importantly leads to me getting paid. I have another dream but that involves the beautiful Margot Robbie but it’s best I don’t elaborate on that! Both big dreams that are hard to achieve admittedly, but at least one of them isn’t impossible! … Has anyone got Margot Robbie’s phone number?!

I find writing a cathartic experience, or at least I would if I knew what the hell cathartic meant! Seriously, though, I find it incredibly therapeutic sat at a keyboard on MargotRobbie.com .. errr I mean sat at my laptop jotting down random thoughts.

Friends who have read my stuff recently have said they have enjoyed it. Which is pleasing although they must have busy lives as all of them have added “…. But please don’t send me anymore though!”

Recently I joined a part time creative writing course in an attempt to improve my skills. The first week was weird as it was all about dairy produce and not much writing. It wasn’t until ten minutes before the end that I realised I’d been attending a Domestic Science lecture in error! I was very embarrassed but on the plus side I learnt an awful about cheese!

One piece of positive feedback I had is that they liked the vulnerability of the work and the fact I wrote with angst. I’ve no idea how the lecturer knew my German friend Angst was helping me but I appreciated her kinds words nevertherless!

I’m having piano lessons at the minute! I’m very early into it, and am a mere novice still, but I find that very interesting! My concentration levels aren’t the best at the minute so it takes some learning but I enjoy it nevertheless.

I’ve wanted to learn piano since an interview with a Careers Advisor when I was sixteen. In the process of attempting to find a gainful career for me he asked “What are your skills?” As a stroppy clueless teenager I replied “No idea sir! But my fingers are long and slim!” The Careers Advisor said I should become a piano player before shouting “Next!”

I trudged out of his office with high hopes of learning the piano and joining a marching band. My hopes were dashed when I struggled with the concept of the piano. I used to blow into it! I became disheartened and packed it in and never played again. Until now!

I’ve just realised I’ve written over a side of A4 and not really told you anything in this blog! However, someone very famous once told me “Always leave your audience wanting more.” I therefore don’t want to make this first blog to lengthy. So I will bring this to a close.

When I say someone famous that’s not strictly true, it was my mum! And to be honest she was referring to her meal portions not writing!

Anyway, I’m going to get off! I may post some of the short stories on here later and write another blog shortly! I leave you with the limerick I wrote at my creative writing course this week. We were asked to write a poem about a dried chilli and how it changes when mixed with alcohol! Thanks for reading.

There was a young chilli called Chipotle.

Who was always hitting the bottle.

They were a potent mix.

That knocked people for six.

And made them run to the toilet full throttle!

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