Choked up, streaming eyes, gasping for breath… No, dear hearts, not evidence of the widespread January lurg, or the intro to a tedious “sickness and small business” saga. These, my dears, are simply the symptoms of helpless and hysterical laughter. You know, the kind that’s utterly impossible to get a grip of. The kind that has
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The Last Word blog comes straight from the heart of WORD UP.
In our irregular online offering, we aim to please, entertain, and be brutally honest in our musings on small biz, the ageing process, and life. But we sometimes raise hackles and spark off debate, so feel free to join in, or fire back if you don’t like what you read.
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The Blog
Wrinkles, a spare tire, sag and spread. A light sprinkling of liver spots, the sprouting of some rather robust facial hair, a pair of creaky knees, a brace of aching hips, and the distinct droop of a once proud embonpoint. Another year is about to pass into the history books, adding another chapter to the litany of advancing
We’ve only got ourselves to blame. For Donald Trump. Harsh maybe, and fair enough, those of living on this side of the pond can’t exactly be held responsible for the relentless rise of the blond bequiffed behemoth, but the modern liberati sure have a lot to answer for. For it is
Bright lights, big city right enough. Yup, the Big Apple sure is a pulsating, glittering metropolis unlike any other. It’s a veritable feast of 3D technicolour, surround sound, smell-o-vision and taste sensations. It even feels different. Dammit, New York is just so alive! Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve heard it all before. Returnee tales of pancakes
Rock solid conviction. Absolute certainty. 100% correct. Rammed to the very brim with self-belief. We all like to be right, right? Hang on a mo, tho. Even I, the (less than proud) possessor of a somewhat forceful personality, one which has unpleasant tendencies to veer towards the zealotry end of the certainty spectrum, know that it’s simply
For me, there is no one direction. But for clarification, I’m not talking daft boys bands here. As if. I’m an old punk rocker, remember. I don’t do boy bands. By this I don’t mean that I’m veering wildly from one entrepreneurial idea to another. Nope, the basic principle has stayed the same. I help people
Once more unto the small business breach, dear friends. The sun has set on Word Up’s annual summer sojourn. And amazingly, for a Scottish staycation, there was actually some sun. For two whole days. But not in a row, dinnae be daft. Annoyingly, given the desperate need for a break from the trials of entrepreneurial
Even as a Weegie* I’ve always felt kinda continental. Somehow or other my own DNA circumvented the dominant freckly-faced, gingery genes of my Scottish, English and Irish heritage, and I’ve always harboured the fantasy that there must be un poco of Spanish pirate somewhere in our family bloodline. But as I sit here in this
If safety, security and water cooler chat feature high on your career wishlist, then sorry old chum, but sole trading just ain’t a path you want to be wandering down. Working as a lone wolf is exactly what is says on the tin. Not the wolf part – although I’ve met a few vulpine
Sexists, racists, fuddy-duddies and intransigent old farts, look away now – I’m in no mood for soft soapery. On second thoughts, naw. You lot better keep right on reading because it’s time to wake up and smell the multicultural coffee. It’s time for you lot to get with the programme or find yourself in a provincial, economic and
