P&J Column for 1.12.14
Have we become too Americanised? I don’t know. But this Black Friday I got a great deal on a pick-up truck and a gun!
Tanya Soutar, local lifestyle guru
I dinna ken about youse, but I love fusion. That’s fit ye cry it fan ye mix thegither twa seemingly unrelated things intae one glorious amalgam. Like smoking an eating. That’s fit wye I love this “Black Friday” thing that’s taken aff ower the last couple of years. It’s the perfect blend of my twa maist favourite activities; shopping and fechting. Like aa the really great ideas (Pop-Tarts, the Jery Springer Show) Black Friday comes tae us fae America. There they spend the last Thursday of November giving thanks for all that they have, and the following day showing each other out the wye tae get their paws on a cheap laptop. it’s the biggest day of the year for online sales, but the real bargains, alang wi’ the overstretched security guards and the smell of anarchy are aa tae be found ‘in store’. Mind youse, it’s nae fer the faint hairted or the amateur. So wi’ the January sales jist aroon the corner, here’s Tanya’s top tips fer keeping yersel safe fan bagging a bargain.
First of aa, ye need tae pick the right fitwear. Loads of quines’ll be choosin between their trainers or their comfy Ugg boots fan they head oot tae the sales. Dinna be daft! Trust me, if a melee develops and some peer sap falls ower, ye wint tae mak sure that they stay doon. Stillettos are good for inflicting injury, but fit you gain in damage-dealing you lose in balance; crucial if you wint tae stay upright in the human tsunami fan they open the doors of Argos at midnight. Check yer boyfriend’s cupboard. Yer looking fer fitba boots, golf shoes or if ye’re really winting tae dae a number on them, the safety boots wi’ the steel toe-caps
Secondly, queues. There’s nae doot the best bargains ging tae well prepared folk that arrive hours afore the sales start wi’ a fold up chair and a thermos full of Goldblend. But if ye’re onything like me then there’s nae wye ye’ll be daein ‘at. But fit aboot sending in a ringer? Maybe you’ve a freen fa’s got a nicht pot and his a tendency tae fall asleep in shop doorways fan they’ve hid a bucket? If so, just point out tae her that Lewis’s is a lot mair classier than Poundland! Then aa you and yer pals need tae dae is rock up twa minutes afore doors open, chuck her in a taxi and tak her place. You can squash the protests fae the Middle-class wifies by simply saying “mind if we squeeze in?” accompanied wi’ a death-stnreser!
Lastly, ye might find yersel jist missing oot on the best bargains, seeing a crowd of lucky shoppers wi’ yer dream purchase tucked under their airm. Dinna pick something else fer yer basket, just pick on een of them! Keep an eye oot fer weedy folk that look like they they’d snap on a windy day. That shellac nails ye got daen at the Aiberdeen Market can come in really handy here. They’re sharp, strong and winna leave yer DNA behind. They certainly worked fer me in ASDA last Friday. The laugh of it is, I dinna even hae onywye tae pit anither plasma telly!
Struan Metcalfe – Conservative MSP for Aberdeenshire North and surrounding Nether regions.
Well, pull down my boxers and call me Susan! I was jolly surprised to see my old jousting buddy David ‘wormy’ Mellor pop up in the news this week. I thought that the old toe- sucker had finally realised the merits of maintaining a low profile and keeping a lid on his japery. It would appear not. The plonker was recorded verbally abusing a taxi driver he had commissioned to take him home after a boozy bash in London Town. i can tell you that all of us on the right are deeply disappointed by David’s behaviour.
I mean, imagine being filmed slagging off the lower classes. Isn’t that was twitter is for?
I don’t know about you but I always check the great unwashed for recording devices before verbally abusing them for being on benefits, or from Buckie.
Mellor’s recent shaming reminds me of a similar episode after the Turriff Young Tories Dinner Dance (not a particularly well attended event). After getting delightfully squiffy on Krug and jäger-bomb chasers, I hailed a car to take me home. The driver was taking a very circuitous route and I was concerned I was being taken advantage of.
“You may have been driving a taxi for your entire career, if indeed we can call this endeavour a career, but you don’t know Aberdeenshire as well as I do, you stupid bumpkin” I said. ” I went to Gordonstoun, Oxford, and Aberdeen College. I am a distinguished member of Boodles Gentlemen’s Club. I have 3 drink driving convictions and a restraining order. Now take me home directly, or I shall deliver to you a sound thrashing”.
Of course I was unceremoniously and somewhat vigorously ejected at Mill o’ Tifty. the Turriff Squeak would have had a field day at my expense, but they couldn’t prove a thing. And thus I remained a MSP with my dignity – but not my spectacles – intact.