I love a good swear word, so I do, ya ***t. Yup, I’m a big fan of the Glesga vernacular, splattered as it so often is with spectacular swearies. Okay, sometimes the sheer scale of the effing and blinding is right over the top – 19 mentions of the “c” word in one short paragraph
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Tag Archives: business
Flat on my face. That’s where I’m going to end up if I don’t regain some perspective, pronto. Pride usually comes before a fall, after all. For a couple of weeks now, I have been well and truly failing to practice what I preach. Oh aye, I can pontificate from a lofty pedestal with the
Clap me in irons Sheriff, I’ve gone and broken the law. Nothing heinous, you understand – there’s no GBH or breaking and entering going on in the Word Up world. Not this week, anyway. But it turns out that I might be guilty of illegal business behaviour. Imagine the frisson of excitement I felt when
I’ve got the blues. The bad language blues. Not the effing and blinding variety, feck no. That would be hypocrisy of the highest order from one who indulges in foul-mouthed badinage on a woefully regular basis. Nope, the bad language getting my goat is jargon. I’m talking about the strands of language used in niche
It’s back. It’s been gone for a while, but this week the “f” word came back with a vengeance. Yes folks, I’ve got The Fear. This is The Fear that comes when the diary is looking a wee bit blank, when the work has slowed down to a trickle after the raging torrent it’s been
I’m crap at commerce. Well, I must be, ‘cos growth is simply not the number one priority for the future of my small biz. For me, getting bigger don’t necessarily mean getting better. I should know. Physically, I personally got a lot smaller over the last year or so, and believe me, it feels way,
It swept over me this week. That sinking feeling. You know the kind, the gnawing sense that something’s really, really wrong. I’m not talking about losing the car keys or misplacing my specs, tho’ such activities may indeed occasionally upset the equilibrium of the Word Up world. No, I’m talking discombobulation, with bells on. But
The engine of this usually energetic entrepreneur is stuttering and threatening to stall, but I’ve just got to keep motoring. I’ve got to admit it, this wee wrangler of words is very nearly out of gas. My burgeoning business is going great guns but the operator is running on fumes. I’m whacked, knackered and a
Sshhhhhht! Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a confession to make. See, I’ve been completely and utterly undecided. No, not about the big vote, I’ve been completely and utterly decided on which box I will be placing my X in long since. Nope, the vacillation, the dithering and the procrastination causing all kinds of angst
Man the barricades, sisters, we’re talkin’ ‘bout a revolution round here. Never one to shy away from a righteous cause, or the advancement of womankind, I’m volunteering my services as a fully-paid up revolutionary. This will come as no great surprise to anyone who knows the paternal background of this particular sole trading adventurer and
