Sunday, 28 February 2010

Mirror, mirror on the wall...hang there anyone there?

I’ve just read an article about Lord Mandelson entitled “Reflections of a Life in Politics”.
Mandelson? Reflections?
Come on.

Bland Leaders

The name Google has been all over the news recently for reasons too boring to detail.
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.


Gordon Brown's Hairdryer.

Saturday, 27 February 2010

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Bottoms up!

Researchers have found that men who admire a woman’s curvaceous figure can experience similar highs to those achieved through drink or drugs.
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

Ordinary people, if you don't want to know the score.....

It would be hard to conceive of a crueller blow dealt by fate than when Beethoven lost his hearing.
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".

The real value of pi (Peat Inn)

The Peat Inn is neither here nor there...but I refer only to its location in the middle of Fife.
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

Report: 'Modern couples don’t give marriage a chance.'

Jack Sprat could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean.

So they filed for divorce on grounds of incompatibility.

Toyota president says recall-hit firm 'grew too fast'

That sounds about right.
Maybe he should consider a 'crash' course in PR....?

Alex Salmond. Role model or roly-poly model?

Never mind the costermonger or fishmonger.
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.

Saturday, 20 February 2010


Hey Dudes, it's Tiger Woods,
he's dated many ravers.
He recognised quite early on
their value as stroke savers.


Own Goal?
Gordon Brown cost the British taxpayer £5 billion by getting out of gold just when the clever money was moving in.

Olympic Gold?
Amy Williams wins a gold medal to double Britain's remaining gold reserves.

Oh Gordon?
The question mark says it all.

Out Going?
Not nearly soon enough.

Vote Labour - a future 'mare for all.

Worth Having You

Sometimes known as Worth Avenue.
(Palm Beach, Florida.)

Friday, 19 February 2010

Thursday, 18 February 2010

Three cheers for the Hip Hip-ocracy Party

As they say in politics – these are my principles and if you don’t like them, here’s another set.
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

New Government Car Scrappage Scheme

If you own a Toyota that is less than one year old and can recall where you ditched it, you can trade it in now for a free bus pass.

The company not upfront is Toyota.

Toyota remain 'spell' bound

Too much woe, not enough whoa!

Here lies Comrade Kzryaxinski

Some people’s names are impossible to pronounce…..until they are pronounced ‘dead’.

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Any takers for Sol-vit?

Vitamin D in tablet form.
I’ll take one a day.

Spread? A little hippiness.

I'm confused.
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

MP’s caught smoking in the Commons

Either they have been indulging in that foul habit or it’s another smoking gun.
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.

A specious argument?

The Duchy of Cornwall, vegetable plot to the Prince of Wales, wants to bulldoze a wildlife haven that they insist is “species-poor”.
So let’s demolish Buckingham Palace.

Much ado about...

A nurse I met asked me what my blog was all about. Her tone suggested it was a pointed question.
“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.

Myth or Mythter?

The myth about the women of southern Europe sporting moustaches has gone on for far too long.
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.
Mythtery tholved.

Sunday, 14 February 2010

Give them all the boot

On a recent visit to Florida, I was amused to learn that members of the local Council in Palm Beach attended meetings with flip-flops and no socks.
Nobody believed me when I told them that our elected representatives in Westminster included many ‘flip’ flops.

Atishoo of lies....? Put me down for role ‘X’.

First of all, let me make myself perfectly clear. I have the utmost sympathy for all that Gordon Brown has suffered in his private life. Nonetheless, the cynic in me suggests that he is exploiting his own personal grief for political purposes.
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

Fishes' feet, snakes' wings, bats' i’s, bulls' ding-a-lings

It’s not a very good spell, I know. But neither was the spelling of “Chiie” on that country’s (Chile!) 50 peso coins which resulted in their General Manager being short changed. Or rather, changed shortly afterwards.
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

The Blogosfear

I have this feeling that I’m about to go viral. I got a chill on the flight home last night and am now incontentinental.
Could end up on the blog all day.


To get to the States without getting in a state, fly Contentinental.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010


The above heading could well be an acronym for ‘Out of place, sorry!’
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?

Beware! A Government Wealth Warning.

The Intercoastal which flows past Palm Beach is not unlike the canals in Venice. And just like the Venetian canals, this one also smells. In fact, it stinks of money.
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.

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Withdrawal symptoms

All good things come to an end and holidays are no different. Although I still have two days left, I’m already suffering from withdrawal symptoms.
I’ve withdrawn too much money from my account.

If nothing is forever...

...what's the point of being an eternal optimist?

Monday, 8 February 2010

One highly polished performance after another

The difference between the Service Industry in the UK and in the States is that in the latter it does what it says on the tin.
If you pay top dollar you get top service.
I should know, I’m busy polishing shoes.
Well, I need to work my passage home somehow.
It just wasn’t my idea of all that ‘cherry blossom’ I was promised before I came out here.

Happiness is relative

Whereas I used to be a one-pinter, now I’m an ein–steiner.
So relatively, I’m happier.

Saturday, 6 February 2010

It’s an eye popping, pill popping life in Palm Beach

From our sumptuous surroundings on South Ocean Boulevard in Palm Beach, we ventured past the Royal Palms and into Worth Avenue.
If there is a more exclusive place on this planet, then I’m sure it is uninhabited, having excluded absolutely everyone.
I will not even attempt to describe most of what I saw. You truly have to see it to believe it and, believe me, I struggled to believe half of what I did see.
That was certainly the case with the creature that pulled up alongside me in a limo that I can only describe as ego-friendly.
That ‘creature’, who I took a 50/50 punt on being of female origin, tried to smile at me but plastic surgery denied me that special moment. Either something would have snapped or her navel would have appeared above her plimsoll line.
Nonetheless, I was smitten.
She might have been as wrinkled as a prune, but she looked as though she had enough smooth greenbacks to lure a poor little toy boy like me.
I’ll need to keep taking the pills.

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Another slice of life

When Christine Cuddihy attempted to buy a slice of quiche in her local Tesco, she was both taken aback and sore affronted when asked for proof of age.
One hesitates to think about what mischief you could possibly get up to with a quiche. Terrorising steak lovers is about as far as I will ‘take it’.
Personally, I suspect that it was a simple case of bad spelling emanating from Tesco’s QH (Headquarters).
A quiche could quite easily be misconstrued as a ‘quickie’.
That reminds me, have you tried their tarts yet?

Double up for a double first

SAT exams recently? If you mean Slap And Tickle, yes.
Karl Woodgett, the former registrar at the University of Bath, was given a nine months prison sentence for issuing bogus degrees to women who participated in his pain management study.
To them, PMS. To us, spanking sessions.
Now I’m not suggesting that his name is good but it’s not a bad name for someone caught with his pants down.
Karl Woodgett whatever he wants, especially now that the old slapper is in the slammer.

Harm ‘em globetrotters

If they can’t get you, they’ll get your luggage.
Should you have ever wondered what makes the States such a great basketball playing nation, you’ve obviously never watched the baggage handlers at JFK .
They’ll lob, throw, toss, chuck, punt and pitch your luggage. And even when the easier option would be to place a bag, they’ll find it a flight path.
JFK. It’s where the globetrotters meet Harlem.

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

The Jelly Belly Man

It was lunch, if I can risk describing it thus on a plane 40,000 feet above the Atlantic.
Having quite enjoyed my chicken and asparagus, I looked across the aisle where a fellow passenger was about to tuck in to what seemed like a world record attempt at a jelly.
“I’ll have one of those” I said to the hostess.
Discreetly, she pointed out that my vision of what I thought was a truly irresistible blancmange, was actually the gentlemen’s gut wedged up against and sprawling all over his fold-out table.
Amused, not a little put out and most certainly put off, I ordered a few grapes.
Preferably just like his gut.
Well pressed.

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

Today Dundee. Tomorrow a ‘Dun deel’.

Tickets in hand, I’m off to Palm Beach, Florida.
And just in case you are thinking that I’ve had an attack of insouciance with regards to my carbon footprint, let me assure you, I am losing a lot of sleep over it.
But don’t worry, I intend to offset it against jet lag.
What’s more, as with most eco-warriors, I’ll make a lot of petty gestures that purport to save the planet while also making me feel good about myself.
First of all, I don’t intend to worry about the flight. No worries, no wind. But if things do go awry, I’ll do my best to hold back until Florida. Then I can find somewhere quiet to release all that trapped wind and, believe me, it will not be quiet for long. (In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if nervous transatlantic passengers are the reason for the hurricane season. Please note, I resisted saying "the reason ’behind’ the hurricane season".)
Secondly, I’ll be on the lookout for any shenanigans such as fellow passengers trying to set fire to their underpants. That can't be good for the environment. Let’s hope that they are as badly ‘briefed’ as the last one.
Finally, if he or she (no profiling from me) isn’t badly briefed, I intend to have a proper eco-friendly burial.
With my undying (not the best word to choose) love of the environment, cremation is the last thing I need.
Of course it is.

Monday, 1 February 2010

Toyota. The good news and the bad news.

First the bad news. That lovely new Toyota that you have just bought might have a faulty accelerator that is prone to jamming open.
And the good news? If you want Toyota to do something about it, you won't need to put your foot down.

The car in front - away out in front - is a Toyota.