WoT Terrorism?

Oh yeah, and there was a controlled explosion at Westbury-on-Trym, and an arrest, as you might have heard. Round the corner from my work and round the other corner from my house.

With my family flying out out of Glasgow Airport moments before the attack happened last summer, there’s now a pattern of exceedingly dull brushes with the most bungled terrorist operations that islamic fundamentalism has to offer.

I really don’t think it’s my fate to be blown up by a terrorist bomb. I generally see myself lasting till old age, but if I go early it’d probably be the result of some bizarre accident brought on by my own carelessness.

If I can think of my only true near-death experience, it happened when I was around 16 or 17. I was lying on the couch, flat on my back, drinking from a pint of water and ice. Suddenly one of these massive icecubes slid right down the glass, down my throat and lodged in my windpipe, completely blocking off my breathing. I leapt off the couch and scrambled around the floor on my hands and knees in a state of total panic, as the seconds ticked by with this ice cube stuck in my throat. I just couldn’t believe that this was it, this was how I was going out. Amidst the sheer terror I was feeling, there was an overwhelming sense that it wasn’t fair that I’d been terribly cheated. I tried to shout for help from my sister who was upstairs, but I couldn’t make a sound. I don’t know how long the whole experience lasted, because all sense of time had been lost. Eventually a proper cough was all it took to send the ice cube flying. The sense of relief was incredible. I’ve often thought though that if I had choked to death on that ice cube, there’s a good chance that it would have been a complete mystery, with the evidence melted by the time I was found.

I just looked up this…

Day 16: A Jaunt Round Westbury-on-Trym

I was struggling to make any progress in my work, even though I was actually sitting there doing nowt else. Decided to take my break early, and go for a walk to see if I could find inspiration. I was just away for about 20 minutes, but I managed to spy a couple of things I’d never seen before.

The first thing I managed to spy was a mural painting of the characters from Family Guy, a mere 30 seconds from my desk. No idea how long it’s been there, but it’s the first time I’ve clapped eyes on it.

I then strolled along to Canford Park, where I took a snap of the fountain they have there:

Now, this fountain I’ve seen before. I’ve even read the inscription before. I’d never thought about the inscription though. What happened was that, more than 110 years ago, there was a committee going round the village hitting people up for contributions for this fountain. All sorts of “come on now, make an effort, put your hand in your pocket, Westbury-on-Trym needs to keep her end up, pay tribute to her majesty gawd bless ‘er”. So, how do you reckon people reacted when the grand day of unveiling came, and there, bold as brass on the fountain is the name of the guy who took the contributions? The cheek of it! He put his own name there every bit as big as Queen Victoria’s. I wonder how that went down in the local hostleries. In fact, this probably explains why there’s a pub on the High Street called The Tossrag Shipley.