I’ve just go home and I’m buzzing!
My clothes are soaked with sweat, my hair is wrecked, I’ve probably sustained severe whiplash, but I’ve just had the best night ever.
What is the reason for this drastic change in mood?
Alcohol? Chocolate? Lottery win? A nice wank?
None of the above. I, my friends, have just been to a Ceilidh dance 🙂
If you are a British and of a certain age, you will probably remember doing ‘country dancing’ in the summer with your school, where you were partnered up with some very reluctant, snot gobbling, grubby brat of a boy who didn’t want to dance, wouldn’t hold your hand and would spend most of the time clomping all over your best Clarks’ sandals wishing he was dead, playing footie or at least at home watching Scooby-Doo.
Well it’s different when they grow up to be men, especially if they are Scottish.
They love it!
Plus, unlike other partnered dances, hardly any one shows off , no one gets sniffy if you go wrong (if one person screws up, everyone tends to via the domino effect going down the line), the music is brilliant, people of all ages go and the endomorphic hit is amazing.
So fuck the weather, fuck the fire, fuck my knackered old microwave and fuck my….well, bollocks to my ageing fanny, just give me a bit of the Gay Gordon’s and all is well with the world.
Let’s just hope that my neck forgives me in the morning…. 😉