The Tollcross Tootsie’s, Wednesday 13 May 2020, Day 56

I go to sleep, sleep, and imagine that you're there with me, I go to sleep, sleep, and imagine that you're there with me, I was wrong!

I am completely done in today, I can hardly stay awake, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I suffer from sleep paralysis, most people get it a few times in their life, I get it a few times a month, it’s hard to describe it feels like there is someone in your room, sitting on your bed pushing down on you, choking you. You feel awake but can’t move and when you try to speak your mouth moves but no sound comes out and if that’s no bad enough, I get really bad hallucinations.

It can be really fucking scary, and totally fucks with your head. I wake up drenched in sweat, greeting, terrified and search the house for robbers and murderers, but most of the time I just lie in bed, drenched in sweat, greeting and terrified until I am bursting for a pee.

Last night I had the worst paralysis in my life, I went to bed after River City, I am a HUGE fan, the patter in it is second to none and even better my nephews best friend Joe Proctor has been appearing in a few episodes, he is really funny check him out He friggin well better get me Lenny Murdoch’s autograph for the mention.

I drifted off to sleep dreaming of having a pint with Wee Bob and Angus, after what felt like five minutes, I had a paralysis episode but this one was different to anything I’ve experienced before.

I could feel the weight of someone or something sitting on top of me but bizarrely it felt lighter than previous episodes, and their hands round my throat were small. I could hear rhythmic chanting it sounded Italian, but it was so quiet it was hard to make out, but it was definitely a female voice. The weirdest thing of all was the smells, I could smell Kensitas club fags, L’air du temps’ perfume and a hint of nana salmon pants.

Ahh Kensitas club that takes me back a few years, do you remember you use to get Kensitas coupons in fag packets? Your maw and da would save them up so they could exchange them for a household item from the exclusive Kensitas Catalogue. In smokers’ houses there was always a pile on the mantelpiece and hell bloody mend you if you accidentally flung a fag packet in the bin without taking the coupon out, it was a fucking disaster.

You had to smoke twenty thousand fags to get a Ewbank and another ten thousand to get the handle, they only cosy about a fiver!

If you were ever dragged to the Kensitas store up near Cambridge Street, you lost at least two years off your life as soon as you walked in. The place was thick with smoke it reeked, and it was fucking bogging, there was fag ash and burn marks all over the catalogues, tables and floors. Have you ever noticed how some people can smoke a full fag and no flick the ash, it just hangs there trembling with each draw, it’s hypnotic to watch!

Everybody’s eyes were dry as fuck, the chemist next door had a roaring trade selling eye dew. In pre-sunbed days that’s where you went to get a fake tan, pop in there for a few hours and you came out brown.

Sorry, I digress, the smells were overwhelming and giving me the boke, lying their terrified I tried to lash and shout out, but it had no effect, the episode seemed to last forever but it was probably only a few minutes.

It was soon the morning, completely shattered I turned over for more sleep, and that’s when I noticed it, at first I thought it was a marble but when I picked it up I realised it was a glass eye and it was staring right at me, soo fucking creepy, but not as creepy as what was next to it.

It was a calling card from the notorious Tollcross Tootsie’s the words written on it said “we are watching you”

Fuck, the Tollcross Tootsie’s they may look like harmless auld dears but there hard as nails, I'm in trouble now!