So farewell, Offshore Europe. Or as the North-East hospitality trade call it: ‘Ker-ching Time’

Kevin Cash, Money Saving Expert and King of the Grips

So goodbye then, and see you in twa years time, Offshore Europe. Ye dinna hae to be a hotelier or a restaurateur to cash in fan the oil jamboree’s in toon, but it certainly helps. I made a killing by advertising a “penthouse apartment with en-suite facilities” in the Stavanger Gazette, then pitting bunk beds and a couple of pails up in the attic o’ my flat in Corthan Crescent. The 4 Norwegian lads that turned up werena happy. I widna mind, but I emptied the pails twice during the week. There’s jist nae pleasing some folk. Still, I got their company’s money jist the same, and I’ll try the Houston Chronicle next time. It wiz great, too, to see the Cooncil getting into the action this year and sending out a SWAT team of city wardens to slap tickets on all the cars that hidna managed to get into the wholly inadequate parking facilities. A good start by our city fathers, but next time, they should get seriously entrepreneurial. Close the car parks athegither, wait for gridlock in all directions, and then wheelclamp the hale lot, without fear or favour. I ken it’s nae the wye to win friends and influence people. But it wid pye for the City Gardens and the Broad Street renewal wi enough left over to let big Barney fly to New York; but hopefully, nae quite enough to fly him back.
That’s yer value, right there.

View from the Midden – rural affairs with MTV (Meikle Wartle Television) personality Jock Alexander

Michty it’s been an energetic wik in the village, I have been representing Meikle Wartle in the big city at Offshore Europe. Michty, fit a stramash it wiz! Jist getting there took mony hours of agonizing slow-moving road travel. But that is the price of travelling in a Massie Ferguson. Or, indeed ahind een.
And fit a show it wiz! We hid the maist distinctive stand in the place. All roond wiz a sea of chrome and multi-media technology, whereas we hid a load of 2 by 4s nailed thegither and draped wi a bittie sackcloth. We did hae trouble getting it through the AECC doors but a’ yon funcy plate gless wis nae match for Feel Moira and a great muckle pile of wid.

Michty, though, the place wiz hoachin’! High-powered businessmen swanning aboot, Scandanavian quinies in body-paint, and us, flogging Meikle Wartle’s very own renewable energy source – Selected High-energy Animal Recyled Nuclei, or, for short: SHARN. Wir business is nae so much Blue Chip as Broon Pellet. But it certainly is the perfect renewable resource. And as lang as one coo remains standing in the village, it will always keep on renewing! And I hiv tae say, we wis a hit! The free samples we were handin oot were the maist popular in the hale event. Cos onyone who battered through the crowds with a soggy bug of Meikle Wartle’s finest soon found that fan they held it doonwind, that nae matter foo crowded the place, they suddenly hid plenty room tae themsels. Cheerio!

Jimmy Hollywood, Sandilands’ most eligible bachelor

As the proverbial ‘Man aboot Toon’ Jimmy has an obligation to all the ladies of Aberdeen tae keep mysel in great shape and looking good. Once the lovelies get the sense that personal standards are slipping then yer chances of pulling a bit of stuff in Soul Casino on a Setterday night are slimmer than a whippet on slimfast.
Tae maist folk, keeping fit is all aboot joining a gym. That wiz fine for a filie for Jimmy – and I hiv David Lloyd tae thunk for a sweet run of yummy mummies who fell for my ample charms. I hid nae problem filling my lycra cycling shorts, until the wik I forgot tae pack an extra pair of sports socks. I’ve niver been back tae that spin class.
But I hiz since takin’ my personal fitness regime tae a new level. Charity fun runs, 10 k’s , half marathons, even a triathlon. I ging and watch them all. You wid be amazed at the amount of totty an attentive, well-groomed mannie like myself can pick up simply by dishing oot bottles of evian half wye roon the course. And, for the avoidance of ony doubt, giving the kiss of life to lassies fa are passed oot at the finish-line dis coont as a trap.
And fit wye div you think Jimmy enters The Moonwalk each year? Hundreds of birdz walking roon toon in their bras?!? I’ll hae a bit o’ that. Top class. Mind you, the first time I entered I got the wrong gist of fit the Moonwalk involved, and turned up wi nae breeks on. Mebbes nae the sort of ” Moon” the organisers hid anticipated.