The Mother of all Sundays

JIMMY HOLLYWOODthe Sandilands Smoothie talks exclusively to the P&J about the most important person in his life. OK, the second most important person in his life.

Fit’s maks a perfect Mothering Sunday? Weel, once a year, Jimmy Hollywood likes to take time out of his hectic schedule o’ pitting smiles on the faces o’ all the ladies, to make one very important lady feel extra special. Jimmy hiz many females in his universe. Some fleetingly, burning brightly like a shooting star; ithers, less so, hinging aboot in a low orbit. – but there his a’wyes been one constant in my life and that is the maist beautiful female iver tae walk this Earth. And I’m countin’ Kelly Brook, Angelina Jolie and Charmaine Dyker fae Hilton on that list. Jimmy Hollywood got his looks fae one person and one person only – and man, Ma Hollywood hiz still got it. She’s still turnin’ heads in The Grill, that’s for sure. And I mean that in a good wye, nae like in that scene fae The Exorcist.

Jimmy loves his mum and one day each year I mak sure Ma Hollywood feels like a princess. I’ll start the day by bringing her breakfast in bed – twa butteries (hot and wi’ a melted Kraft single), a bowl o’ Ricicles and a Marlboro Light – and then we’ll watch my videos o’ Miami Vice till aboot lunchtime. Since I still bide at hame and dinna drive, I’ll get my mate Grayzer to swing by in his Capri and take us oot for High Tea doon at The Washington. Ma Hollywood will offer tae pay, and seein’ as how I am sensitive tae fit a woman really wints, I will insist on letting her.  I dinna wint tae cause a scene and upset her on Mother’s day, ken?


Oor Ain Folk – MARGARET CRAWFORD (59) gives us her view of a Mothering Sunday spent with a much-loved son on the other side of the world.

Black gold.  It’s made us the energy capital of Europe, bringing money, traffic jams, and the highest concentration o’ lap dancin’ bars outside of Vegas.  But a’ these benefits hiv come at a cost.  I won’t hiv been the only mither to find hersel sittin at hame this Sunday, separated fae their loons by the ile and the miles.

Australia, my Ronnie’s in – as if there wizna ile in the grun nearer hame!  And of course, Ronnie sent a card, and bonny flooers an a’.  He’s aye been very thoughtful like that, especially since he moved in wi Charlotte, or “Charlie” as he cries her – fit kind o’ name’s that for a quine?  But I got my card, and my bonny flooers, and I hid a shottie on my neighboors’ Skyte for a bit yap wi’ Ronnie, Charlotte and little baby Kieran, a’ sittin oot in their sit-ooterie in Perth.  And as I said to Faither fan we cam back in, it wiz fine, and I widna hiv missed it for the world.  But it’s jist nae the same as hivin them here.

And, of course, it’s nae the same for them, either.  Stuck oot there on their ain, withoot onyone to lend a hand.  Cos I wiz very handy fan they wiz here.  If iver they needed someone to sit for a delivery, up I’d ging.  Or if Charlotte wiz needin a handie wi Kieran.  Fit a help I wiz to them wi that bairnie.  I wiz up there every day. And I mean to say – I wiz needed.  These young folks, they may hiv been to the varsity, but they’ve nae idea foo to bring up a bairnie.  I said to them, it’s got nithin to dae wi yer books, nor lectures, nor yer documentaries by Professor Robert Winston.  And oh, me they’d a lot to learn.  Fan they got him hame fae the hospital.  De ye ken fit they pit him in?  Jeans. Little bittie jeans!  Can you imagine? Hally-racket! I says to Charlotte you pit jeans on that bairnie and he’ll turn oot to be a hooligan!  I’ve nae been tic-tackin’ awa on a wee matinee jacket for three months to see young mister daen up like the Wild Bunch.

But we aye got on great, Charlotte and me.  I used to meet her for her fly doon toon, in Lewis’s, ivery wik.  The last time – and I’ll mind it to my dying day – I’d jist made a start on my Grunny Slice fan she said “Kieran’s hungry too” and oot it came!  In the middle o’ Lewis’s!  Well I jist said to her, very nice like, “Noo my young lady.  You may hiv jist hid a bairnie, and it may be the maist natural thing in the world, but that’s nae excuse to ging and flash a flash yer bosoms like Janet Jackson”. I says “it’s natural ye’ll mak mistakes files ye find yer feet.  It’s a peety ye’re makin as mony as y’are, but look on the bright side.  At least you’ve got me to keep you right, morning noon and night.”  And then I jist leaned across, took ahud, and popped it back in.   And that wiz the last I seen o her, cos the very next day, there wiz oor peer Ronnie, posted against his will to the ither side o the world.  It maks ye think.