Wednesday, 29 December 2010
Monday, 27 December 2010
Why? Well, I just don't like the look of the guy.
(You really don't want me on your jury.)
Now I appreciate that this in itself might not constitute a significant enough body of evidence to convict him, but let me try and build a case.
Remember, this is all circumstantial.
He looks like he has a cold and slippery 'wet fish' handshake. Admittedly, that is mere suspicion on my part.
He gives journalists a bad name. You can't achieve that without malice aforethought.
And when interviewed, his sentences last even longer than the one that I would like to impose upon him.
On a much more serious note, he has had a dalliance (or two) in Sweden that has led to some very serious allegations.
Far be it for me to make light of these matters, I do wonder if he would be pursued as vigorously as is the case without undue pressure being brought to bear from other quarters.
But that doesn't concern me.
I say let's pursue him anyway and if he's guilty, then let's nail him.
As the driving force behind WikiLeaks, he is the self-appointed arbiter of what he considers to be safe in the public domain
Who does he think he is?
As the recipient of two thirds of the organisation's salary budget, he is patently a self-seeking parvenu.
I now learn that he has signed a book deal worth $1.5 million in order, he claims, to fight his case and to keep his organisation afloat.
If he were a true martyr to his cause, he should hand the money over to genuine freedom fighters and then hand himself over to the relevant authorities.
Julian Assange. Aged 39.
Life, they say, begins at 40.
For him, I say, it should begin at Wormwood Scrubs.
Monday, 20 December 2010
Monday, 6 December 2010
Sunday, 5 December 2010
Friday, 3 December 2010
Tuesday, 30 November 2010
Monday, 29 November 2010
Thursday, 25 November 2010
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Tuesday, 16 November 2010
Saturday, 13 November 2010
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Thursday, 23 September 2010
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Sunday, 22 August 2010
But I'm working on it.
And so it was that I found myself driving to Broughty Ferry for my mandatory morning coffee when - suddenly and without warning - the car I was following took a sharp right turn.
It was at that point that I blasted my blasted horn.
I was not able to register the complexion on the face of the poor young girl who was the target of my two-note concerto because, in the short time it took for her to turn around, all colour had drained away.
But I would like you to understand that I was acting as a good citizen and a thoughtful road user.
You see, by tooting, it might just be possible that this particular offender reproaches herself on how she approaches junctions in the future. She could save a life. Maybe even her own.
And it was all down to me.
So come on, all those in favour of big hooters, let's all have a peep.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Friday, 6 August 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
Saturday, 31 July 2010
We now learn that he is about to sue his 'protectors' (a.k.a. the taxpayer) for close on £100,000.
I say good luck to him and, for good measure, let's round it up to a cool one million.
Then, why not invite the tragic parents of the poor girls who lost their lives to sue the despicable sewer rat for every penny he gets?
Just as he seeks, let justice be done.
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
You might well ask, what is it about the number 11?
More germane, I would like to ask what is it about failure and reward?
Fred Badwin (a.k.a. Goodwin) and Tony Wayword (a.k.a. Hayward) will be remembered as the respective, but most certainly not respected, Chief Executioners at RBS and BP.
Neither could plug the leaks in their most precious resources and neither could accept that it happened on their 'watch'.
Well, you wouldn't want to tarnish a diamond encrusted gold Rolex, would you?
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Consider it done.
What Cameron and Barak would like to present as the possibility of a withdrawal next year is, in truth, an inevitability that is as clear as the nose on your face ...if only it were visible.
Two great superpowers stacked up against the Taliban who were there for the beating.
Little did we know that the cost in terms of human lives and economic woes would conspire to have us beating a retreat.
Now it's just a matter of time before terrorists beat a path to our door.
It doesn't take a mastermind to recognise the importance of "I've started, so I'll finish".
With Beethoven, Schubert and Mozart, on the other hand, their music has a gravitas that takes you to a higher a plane.....and leaves you there.
Presently, I am looking down at cloud nine.
Friday, 9 July 2010
But before I go any further, I would also like to make it perfectly clear that there is not a single issue that he stands for - or purports to stand for - that I can agree with.
But that's not the point.
John Prescott is a politician's politician. The Norman Tebbit of the Labour Party. A pitbull on steroids. It remains a great mystery to me how he escaped the Dangerous Dogs' Act all those years ago and an even greater disappointment that he has not been muzzled ever since.
But let's not be in any doubt. There is not a single hoop that John Prescott wouldn't have jumped through in order to pursue his own ends. The hoops on the croquet lawn at Dorneywood were merely emblematic of that.
And so he is now elevated into the House of Lords as Baron Prescott or BP as I will now 'defer' to him.....that other great natural disaster to beset our beautiful planet.
I would just like to leave you with this little thought.
Having ably represented Hull in the Commons, BP has come a long way since his Merchant Navy days where he started his career clearing the bilge water from the hull of a ship.
There is also a certain irony in that he will now be spouting forth his own bilge in the House of Lords.
I look forward with eager anticipation to his 'made un' speech and even more so to its translation.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
Coincidentally, she also has a great sod (Charles). It is because of her SOD (sense of duty) that she doesn't abdicate.
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Monday, 5 July 2010
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
Friday, 18 June 2010
Monday, 14 June 2010
Sunday, 13 June 2010
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Friday, 4 June 2010
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
Sunday, 30 May 2010
Friday, 28 May 2010
Thursday, 27 May 2010
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
There can be only two reasons why my grandparents left Tuscany to settle in Dundee.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Thursday, 20 May 2010
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
Monday, 17 May 2010
Thursday, 13 May 2010
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Monday, 10 May 2010
Sunday, 9 May 2010
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Friday, 7 May 2010
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
Sunday, 2 May 2010
Thursday, 29 April 2010
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
Monday, 26 April 2010
Saturday, 24 April 2010
Friday, 23 April 2010
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Sunday, 18 April 2010
Saturday, 17 April 2010
Friday, 16 April 2010
Thursday, 15 April 2010
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Monday, 12 April 2010
Saturday, 10 April 2010
Thursday, 8 April 2010
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
Sunday, 4 April 2010
Saturday, 3 April 2010
Friday, 2 April 2010
Thursday, 1 April 2010
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
Monday, 29 March 2010
Sunday, 28 March 2010
Friday, 26 March 2010
Thursday, 25 March 2010
The whaling industry has returned to Dundee.
Or so you might think when confronted and affronted by the blubber that walks down the High Street each day.
Scotland is in the midst of an obesity epidemic and Dundee is at its heart.
But let’s not lose heart.
Our elected fatheads in Holyrood have at long last recognised the link between education and diet. Just how long it is since Simple Simon met a pieman I do not know, but surely that pastry encrusted clue didn’t take them that long to solve....?
Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with the occasional Dundee peh, as we lovingly call our local delicacy.
It's just that we need to encourage a different school of thought as well as a more svelte school of whales.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Monday, 22 March 2010
How often is the US accused of ‘only being interested in oil’?
Of course they are.
Why else would they concern themselves with Iraq and not Zimbabwe?
But before you join the chorus of disapproval and park your tank (petrol) down that particular one way street, why don’t you #*CK OFF?
We all have cars, fly abroad and centrally heat our homes.
We all buy food and other products that are shipped and flown in from every corner of the globe.
We all live oil-fuelled lives.
Well, most of us do.
So let’s not get hypocritical about it.
Instead, here’s a little analogy.
A hunter sees a big grizzly bear about to maul a poor defenceless man.
The hunter, who is after the bear’s skin, shoots the grizzly dead.
Does it really matter what the hunter’s motives are?
Surely the crucial point is that the man is saved from almost certain death.
Yes, the US is interested in oil.
We all are.
What’s more, we are all prone to making incorrect assumptions.
When I told you above to #*CK OFF, I meant BACK OFF!
What did you think I meant?
Saturday, 20 March 2010
Friday, 19 March 2010
Thursday, 18 March 2010
The truly gifted and talented are either writing newspaper columns or are busy blogging.
In truth, everyone has an opinion.
We all know what needs to be done – where and when and how.
Don’t ask why. Just trust us.
However, it takes untold arrogance to believe that you are the best man for the job.
Insecurity has a much more restraining influence than delusions of competence.
Meet Gordon Brown.
He has screwed things up so badly we are now completely threadbare.
And yet he still believes he is the best man for the job.
I believe that what matters to Brown is brown matter to the rest of us.
That's why I'm voting Green.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Monday, 15 March 2010
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Saturday, 13 March 2010
That land is now sacred.
So when an American billionaire berthed his corporate ‘warship’ alongside this hallowed place of worship, hackles were raised and the locals got agitated.
To achieve this in Aberdeen, it helps if you are either cloven-hoofed or heavy-handed.
In this case, let’s go for the latter.
Donald Trump (no relation to Donald Duck) wants to invest over £1 billion of his own money in creating a world class golf course with accompanying hotel and luxury homes.
So far, so good.
At least, so you would think.
But let’s not forget about the duck.
This duck has a lot of followers and I’m not referring to its cute little ducklings.
I allude to those hobby-less members of society desperately seeking a hobby horse to mount.
Had Donald Trump known all those years ago just how much grief this innocent little duck would bring, I’m sure he would have eaten it there and then, feathers and all.
Instead, he has had to wait until now to get ‘down’ in the mouth.
The rest of the world must think we are quackers.
Friday, 12 March 2010
What has really got him straining at the leash is his desire to be included in the impending leadership debates on television.
Such rabidity would not be particularly nice to watch.
Neither before the watershed nor behind the bike shed.
As Scottish taxpayers, we have duty to pay and a duty to perform.
Does anyone have a scoop-a-poop?
Thursday, 11 March 2010
There ain’t any.
The hacks are beginning to take on the guise of pimps trying to procure some business for a couple of old slappers.
The only difference is, at least the slappers have a bit of experience under their belts, if you can forgive me that last metaphor.
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Britain was different.
The banks had just collapsed. No, not the beautiful banks of the River Tay upon which Ballathie sits. Instead, I refer to the financial leviathans that were the pension powerhouses for certain bankers.
I allude to those at the FAG end of society. (Okay, Frederick Anderson Goodwin.)
Such was the concern of our inveterate bankers, circumstances obviously weren’t bad enough for them to cancel their company day at Ballathie hosted by Ferrari and Maserati.
Looking back, I don’t know which was worse – my drooling over the cars, my salivating over lunch or my foaming at the mouth as I witnessed my overdraft heading into ‘overdrive’.
But that’s not my point.
“Have you booked, Sir?”
The phonetics of Baruffati and Maserati are not too discordant.
For one day at least, I discovered how the other half live. And, believe me, they don’t half live.
I also discovered where our money goes.
If only they had been driving Toyotas.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
And as if all this wasn't tragic enough, it now transpires that, in more than one sense, they jumped to a conclusion.
Monday, 8 March 2010
And yet there's not a plastic surgeon alive who could wipe the smile off his face.
There are, however, one or two RBS customers and shareholders who would like to give it a go.
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Saturday, 6 March 2010
Surely that makes him doubly guilty. To be party to prosecuting a war without having made provision for the consequences of your actions is inexcusable, especially when you are fully aware beforehand of the potential aftermath.
The only thing missing from his virtuoso performance was the plaintive sound of a violin playing in the background.
I'm convinced, however, I heard a lyre.
Friday, 5 March 2010
Flutter a foto.
Instead of 140 characters, choose just one.
Flutter your eyelashes. Frown. Smile. Scowl. Grimace. Gurn.
Choose a clutter-free, flutter-for-free future.
It’s feature-friendly and fun.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Wednesday, 3 March 2010
The reason I mention it is that yesterday I was parked facing one such old banger. I refer to the car and not the female at the wheel whom I assumed was called “Sharon”. At least, that's what I read on the label above her frightening fizzog. I’d no idea where “Fred” was. Maybe he had blazed a trail for the car and had already been dumped.
It got me to thinking how appropriate it would be if their names had been “Jill” and “Ted”.
I smiled at the thought.
Sharon smiled back.
I’m not smiling now.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
With my caffeine intake, I remain turbocharged all day.....sometimes all night. Although it was a brisk walk back, I never sweat. I merely percolate.
Coffee pours out every pore.
This morning, however, was different.
I had just settled down to my favourite coffee with my favourite paper when my favourite person to avoid walked in.
I know him as the local anaesthetic.
There isn’t enough coffee in Brazil to keep me awake when he gets in full flow.
And when he is in full flow, I also know him as our local authority.
There is scarcely a subject that exists (and I include existentialism) that he can’t teach you a thing or three about.
But as verbose as he is, he has no understanding of body language.
I’ve tried removing subtlety and even introduced subtitles, all to no avail.
In fact, it would not surprise me if he is still talking to the seat that I vacated twenty minutes ago.
To paraphrase Mark Antony: Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your years.
Monday, 1 March 2010
Either there is a conspiracy going on or, yet again, the Gods are conspiring against me.
I had long pinned my hopes on meeting some alien being.
A lass. No more.
Now I will need to focus my attention on recording another sighting of that other UFO.
Yes, that Useless F#!*&@* Oaf Sir Fred Goodwin.
Darling: “Move? It was a veritable landslide!”
Gordon: “Oooh! Don’t use that word. You know I lose all self-control.”
Darling: “Landslide! Landslide! Landslide!”
Gordon: “You certainly know which buttons to push Darling. Would you like the Defence job?”
Darling: “What, no more screwing?”
Gordon: “We are talking the ekonomy here, aren’t we….?”
Darling: “It’s the economy, stupid. I think we need another ‘spell’ in office."
Gordon: “You’re right. We need an election. I’ll write to Her Majesty.”
Darling: “Well just be careful how you spell it. But tell me, what do you need to write to Mandy for anyway?”
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Surprisingly, for such an innovative and go-ahead company, their corporate line is no more aspirational than “Don’t be evil”.
And while Google have obviously gone for the blandishment, others prefer the bland.
Last week, the Labour Party announced their new slogan.
Surprisingly, for such a bunch of bully boy thugs, it is the perfectly anodyne “A future fair for all”.
We now await the Tory line.
Might I suggest: "Trust us to get it trite"?
Unsurprisingly, it seems to reflect exactly what they stand for.
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Oh really? (Surprise.) Oh really! (Disdain.)
So while some scientists are stuck in a lab with rats, others are in the pub doing what we all like to do - and all in the name of work.
You would think that they would at least try to justify their research by taking it a step further.
For example, what influences the receptacles from which we drink?
Why have those old-style dimpled beer mugs gone out of fashion?
Too remindful of cellulite....?
What is the real appeal of those beautifully shaped glasses, generous up top, nice and slim below?
Does the unhappily married man prefer to take his drink the way he would like to take his wife - by the neck?
These are all questions that need answers.
And does the phrase a bevy of beauties derive from the latter being contingent on the former?
In Dundee it does.
Or maybe I’ve just been drinking in the wrong pub.
The Last Chance Saloon.
Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Perhaps Narcissus never being able to see his own reflection....?
Such was the mind of Beethoven, however, I suspect that despite deafness, he was able to hear his music more clearly in his own head than I ever could in a concert hall.
And therein lies the massive chasm between lesser mortals like me and the genius that was Beethoven.
When I eventually shuffle off this mortal coil, it will be the difference between "my life's over" and "Beethoven's oeuvre".
For culinary excellence, it truly has arrived as its recent Michelin Star, Restaurant of the Year and Best Chef of the Year (Geoffrey Smeddle) awards confirm.
From nowhere to now here.
But then I already knew that.
The sad truth is, there are too few places in Scotland that reach these high standards.
Sadder still, few even try.
For the most part, the Scottish culinary experience is:
Expect the wurst. Hope for the breast.
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
His wife could eat no lean.
So they filed for divorce on grounds of incompatibility.
Maybe he should consider a 'crash' course in PR....?
Beware the scaremongers.
If we are to believe the latest Government warnings, Scotland is sitting on an obesity time bomb.
So rather than be fat and be merry, it now seems that there really is no mirth when it comes to girth.
The SNP are proposing legislation to enforce restaurants to serve smaller portions, but I think they are missing the point.
I’m not aware of too many restaurants serving bags of crisps, chocolate, pop corn, deep fried Mars Bars, sugary drinks and all the other junk foods that provide the foundation ‘stones’ for kids’ future diets.
To me, the best measure the SNP can take is around Alex Salmond’s waist.
It might help them locate the extra pounds (1700 of them that he claimed for food from the taxpayer in 2007/08 despite voting on only six days in the Commons).
With the present economic gloom, at least we will no longer need to tighten our belts.
Our waistlines will take up the slack.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Saturday, 20 February 2010
Gordon Brown cost the British taxpayer £5 billion by getting out of gold just when the clever money was moving in.
Amy Williams wins a gold medal to double Britain's remaining gold reserves.
The question mark says it all.
Not nearly soon enough.
Vote Labour - a future 'mare for all.
Friday, 19 February 2010
Thursday, 18 February 2010
I despair. At least I would if I wasn’t so inured against the hypocrisy that we have to face day in, day out.
And so an opportunity exists to set up a new political party that openly pretends to care about us, our environment, our future and all that other moonshine that we continually hear.
So instead of merely suspecting politicians of lying, at least we will know that they are.
The Hip Hip-ocracy Party.
No “can”, just cant.
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Motorist organisations keep telling us about the importance of keeping your 'spare tyre' well inflated while Government Ministers exhort us to get rid of it altogether.
The baby boomer generation, it seems, is the new target for the Government's Change4Life campaign.
I'm doing my part. I recently bought a new piece of kit to combat middle-aged spread.
I call it my Waist Disposal Unit.
Monday, 15 February 2010
We can never be too sure because 329 MP’s have put up a smokescreen to conceal their unpaid £138,000 drinks bill.
And all this on a day when it is proposed that alcoholic drinks should carry a health warning.
That’s obvious. At £419 each, these MP’s will surely be completely ‘plastered’ while our finances continue to haemorrhage.
“It’s about A & E” I said. “Maybe you could publicise it on your hospital’s notice board....?”
It wouldn’t be a bad place to go viral.
What I didn’t explain is that my blog is about Anything and Everything.
Much of which amounts to nothing.
With the exponential growth in our own coffee culture, we all ought to be aware of the problem a cappuccino poses in leaving a chocolate-coloured splodge of milk on the upper lip.
Hence the ‘moustache’.
But how do you account for the hairy armpits of southern Europe’s women?
Next time you are there on holiday, just observe the manner in which they clean their teaspoons.
Sunday, 14 February 2010
Nobody believed me when I told them that our elected representatives in Westminster included many ‘flip’ flops.
Alright, so he shed a tear on national television and who wouldn’t when answering such difficult questions? However, we all know that politicians are the consummate professionals when it comes to not answering the questions they don’t want to and he should have placed these firmly in that category.
Except for one thing. There’s an election looming and Gordon Brown has displayed a sense of timing up there with the very best of Swiss watches.
Perhaps he is looking beyond election defeat and is hoping for a position on the board of Rolex.
Maybe Kleenex would be more appropriate. Not to wipe away the tears but to clean up the tissue of lies that he and Blair have perpetrated since coming to power in 1997.
But whether it’s Rolex or Kleenex, ‘ex’ is beginning to adopt a rather familiar tone.
Saturday, 13 February 2010
But it wasn’t the only misspelling this weekend.
Dignity is not something you would normally associate with Parliament. So I was very surprised to learn that the Palace of Westminster will now allow commoners to marry within their precincts on the grounds that the venue “will support the dignity of marriage”.
Surely that should be Dignitas?
If anyone knows otherwise, please ask your spouse before you spout your opinion here.
Friday, 12 February 2010
Wednesday, 10 February 2010
Not that you would ever need to use it in Palm Beach, Florida.
I tried but just could not find a piece of litter, a bit of chewing gum stuck to the sidewalk or, for that matter, a single blade of grass pointing in the wrong direction.
The only thing out of place is my nose.
Well, whose wouldn’t be if you were just about to leave on the next plane for Scotland?
This is where Bernard Madoff did a lot of ‘fishing’. But rather than invest, I decided to investigate.
Just south of Palm Beach is Delray Beach. It was there that I boarded the pleasure cruiser Lady Atlantic for a trip down the Intercoastal to Boca Raton. Not even the best navigation systems on the market could prepare me for what lay ahead.
Boca Raton is home to the rich and famous or, to be more precise, the second home to the rich and famous. One wonders what their permanent residences are like.
With ocean-going cruisers berthed at the foot of every garden, this was The Ideal Home Show and The International Boat Show rolled into one.
As the pleasure trip progressed, I felt increasingly like the alligators I had seen in the Everglades the day before. My jaw was permanently locked open.
But now I’m really stuck.
I don’t know if I need a Tetanus injection or a reality check.