There I was manning the barricades of sanity against the gibbering hordes of the SNP and attempting to counter their deranged rantings with carefully selected barbs of calm wit and reason. And, to be scrupulously fair and honest, shouting at the odd one of the traitorous bastards just a tad every so often.
Then Mrs M suggested that I should unman said barricades for a long weekend and go for a wee trip just to allow me to calm down and to recharge my batteries of reasoned, totally understandable and justified invective. I humoured her and we drove off at lunchtime on the Thursday after I had set the Sky box to record the opening NFL game of the season on Thursday night, the England v India ODI on Friday and Germany v Scotland on the Sunday. Continue reading “Mrs M Forever”
In 1986 or thereby, four of us flew to Malaga for a week’s golf at Sotogrande. We flew from Newcastle and enjoyed the trip down listening to the designated driver’s audio tapes of the Masters tournament of bygone years. I remember one fondly. Fred Couples was leading in the final round by a couple of shots when he hit his ball into the stream at Amen Corner. The commentator asked ‘I wonder what’s going through his mind right now’. There followed a very audible and heartfelt ‘Oh F—!’ from the boy Fred. Continue reading “It’s A Worry No 1 – The Open”
I have been a fan of serendipity ever since I was fortunate enough to stumble upon the word. I think that might be one of the reasons why I struggle to be a conspiracy theorist. For me, there are always too many loose ends and too many people who have to be in on it for any such theory to hold its water. I’m an Occam fan.
It follows that it is a joy when I happen upon a classic serendipitiaceous incident. Continue reading “Serendipity and Sadness”
The subject was William Shakespeare and anything that inspired you from his life, his works or his many famous quotations. The closing date was 23rd April 2014. For the avoidance of doubt, my choice of closing date was always intended to be a celebration of the 450th anniversary of his birth on or around 23rd April 1564.
Thank you for the entries. Continue reading “Third Photographic Competition 2014 – Result”
In case you missed it, the upcoming Weegie Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony ran into a wee bit of controversy recently. Obviously, we in Caledonia were never going have anything like the same amount of money as the reactionary Westminster junta gave to the 2012 Olympic Games. A classic example of our being starved of proper funding by the English oppressor.
We were having to make do with a miserly £14m out of the pittance which the UK Government grudgingly doles out to us. Our Great Leader has now managed to increase that to £21m, presumably by cutting back on his utterly justifiable and reasonable expenses at great personal sacrifice. Continue reading “On Your Mark! Get Set! Don’t Blow!”
Thanks to the Judgment of Araminta I have the honour of setting the next subject.
You have to understand that I am just a wee thing obsessed at the moment. I may find on 19 September 2014 that I am no longer a full member of my country of origin.
I’ll still be a UK citizen and able to call myself British until I die but I could have been forced to be a Scottish citizen as well, living on a divided island and sundered from my Southron kith and kin.
Which is why said subject is the Bard. Continue reading “Third Photograph Competition of 2014”
Just to reassure Sheona before she corrects me. I know that is not the toast.
It is, of course, ‘Here’s tae us. Wha’s like us? Damn few and they’re a’ deid.’ A typically modest, unassuming, totally correct and utterly justifiable sentiment used when we foregather to celebrate our good fortune in being Scots. But, it would seem that the title version of this post might be the right one for some of those not so blessed.
Continue reading “Here’s tae us. Wha likes us? Part 1”
As we steadfastly march behind our Dear Leader towards the glorious dawn of Scottish Independence, fanned by the zephyr-like breath of the tens of millions of wind turbines crowding across every available inch of our mountains and glens and far too sober thanks to the extortionate amount of alcohol duty levied by the Health Fascists of the Scottish Parliament, it is time to reflect on one of the few good things which will come out of that Independence.
Continue reading “Haggis Go Home”