P&J Column 21.6.18

Up yer kilt? That’s for the Chope!

View from the midden- rural affairs with Jock Alexander

It has been an egalitarian wik in the village. I wis reading about Government plans tae ban the unsavoury practise of ‘upskirting’. Noo this is baith a delicate topic and a fem’ly paper, so I shall nae dwell on fit’s involved. But suffice it tae say it’s the kind of thing that wid hiv fairly got ye banned fae Boots back in the day.  However, in response tae an urgent question in Parliament on Monday, it has noo been confirmed that mannies wearing the kilt will also be protected by this new law, thus preserving the “bodily dignity’ of baith sexes. This his been hailed in the village as a notable victory for equality. Nae that mony fowk of either gender here hiv o’er much bodily dignity in the first place. And, truth be telt, the wifies in the village dinna ging in much for skirts onywye. The shoppie’s best sellers in the clothing department are invariably Feel Moira’s lines o’ unisex biler suits and dungers, accessorized wi’ matching Nick-tams.

Fit’s mair, the only mannie in the village that iver gings in for traditional highland dress is Skittery Wullie, fa jist wears the kilt ence a year, fae Burns Night tae St. Andrews Day.   Of course, being someone fa spends his entire working life surrounded by pigs and their doings, his full 9 yards of wool diz give off a distinctive aroma, so thankfully naeb’dys ever got close enough tae tak a picter up his kilt. Cheerio!

 

Cosmo Ludovik Fawkes Hunte, 13th Earl of Kinmuck

Well batter my britches and serve them deep fried with a selection of pickles, what a fuss and bother has been made about Sir Christopher Chope’s decision to object to the proposed upskirting Bill.  My family are noted Parliamentarians – we have sat continuously in the House of Lords since the Act of Union, and while it has caused a few pressure sores over the years, the cleaners are now used to hoovering round us, and it is a proud boast of the Fawkes Huntes’ that each and every one of our lunches have been paid for out of public funds since 23 January 1847.  So it is as a lawmaker of skill and experience that I provide this message.  The vilification of Sir Christopher must stop.  Although of the lower orders  (a mere “Sir” can never truly be considered to be blue-blooded – mauve, at best) he went to the right sort of school and is a decent enough sort of commoner.  His objection to the Bill was not made on the basis that he thinks upskirting is acceptable, but on the basis that he, as a matter of principle, believes that all Bills should be debated.  And surely that must be the correct approach for the Mother of Parliaments to take.  Clearly there are competing rights here; the woman’s right to privacy, and the lecherous man’s right to a cheap thrill. Balancing these requires anxious consideration, but I am sure that after a full debate the predominantly male, sometimes sozzled and perpetually priapic elected members will reach a decision to make Britain proud.

 

Cava Kenny Cordiner’s World Cup Round About

If I could parrot phrase the famous play writer Wilbur Shapesbeer, I would say “if football be the food of love, get stuck in lads, it’s dinner time”. And the lads what are at the World Cup is getting stuck in good and proper to the feast of football what they has served us up on a silver platter made into the shape of Russia!

There’s been at least 3 games every day since Friday and almost every one of them has featured the controverbial VAR technology. We’ve seen pens given, not given, handballs spotted and missed left, centre and right. Old Kenny is very clear on his feelings about this development. The punnets is saying it’s time to eliminate refereeing errors, but what’s this going to do for players at the grass-roofs level? With all this expensive equipment, these days, how could someone like me build a career on getting away with halfing folk?

But the best bit so far has been the results. Who would have thought that Mexico would beat Germany, Brazil would draw with Switzerland and Senegal would stuff Poland? I’ll tell you – old Kenny! And my bookie is sick of the sight of me! Mental!

Don’t miss The Flying Pigs live on stage in Now That’s What I Call Methlick! at His Majesty’s Theatre Aberdeen; all next week from Tuedsday the 26th June. Tickets available now.