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?”