P&J Column for 16.6.14

“It wis a tragedy: I could niver get my cuddly ex to go the full Salmond”

Tanya Souter, Lifestyle Advice with a local flavour

Research wiz published this week saying that there his been a huge increase in overweight men. Fit is to say, mair mannies than iver is obese, nae that mannies fa wiz previously a bittie over weight hiv noo gone the full Salmond. My ain research – carried oot mainly in Club Tropicana and the queue for the Dolphin chipper – comes to the same conclusion.

The study, fae researchers at Aiberdeen, Stirling & Bournemouth, his also established that mannies who actually try to eat less are mair successful at losing weight than mannies who dinna. Ken ‘is? It niver ceases to amaze me fit those clever boffins manage to come up with. They’ve also found that if men wint to shift the pounds, menu planners and aa that guff arenae the answer, but support groups are good, and the eens attached to fitba clubs dae particularly well. Louping up and doon and singing “Peter Pawlett baby” for 90 minutes uses up a surprising amount of calories, especially if ye mak sure you’re 3 flights o stairs away fae the pie stall.

They also found that humour is a good wye for mannies to beat the bulge. They’re right aboot that an aa. My ex, Tommy, wiz a larger gent. Fan we wiz thegither I cried him ‘cuddly’, and I used humour to incentivise him to lose weight. We hid a laugh. I wiz awyse telling him I winted him to be mair stud-muffin than muffin-top. I’d grab ahaud of his gut, gie it a wobble and ask “do ye wint ice cream with that jeely”? And fan we wis in bed I used to him if there wis onything he winted me tae dae for him, like describe fit his feet looked like, seeing as he hadn’t seen them for years! We used to cry with laughter. I did the laughing and he did the crying. And it worked, ‘cause sure enough, efter months of keeping in at him, there wiz a sudden and dramatic weight loss. All eighteen stone of him, fan he dumped me and moved in with Big Sonya.

Ron Cluny, Official Council Spokesman

The World Cup – a festival of football – should be a time for comradeship and joy for all. But not for the perpetual malcontents who continually slander the good work of this administration. This week I have received a number of sleekit, catty emails pointing out the lack of civic events marking the competition. Why no fan parks at the beach, they ask, or big screens in Union Terrace Gardens?

How little they know of Aberdeen. Each city marks these events after its own fashion. Let other, flashier, municipalities celebrate with fireworks and razzmatazz, let the brash and ostentations metropolises hold carnivals and samba parades, and let Aberdeen stick to what it does best – marking major events by producing an eclectic selection of limited edition World Cup themed sausages. What could possibly tell the world more clearly of our cosmopolitan outlook than the availability of a vodka, emmental, chocolate or coffee flavoured sausage? Sour cream advisory with the Mexican pork and jalapeno ones. Ayah beastie.

Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football columnist who’s wall chart gets filled in after every game.

Hoopla! Your raving reporter Cava Kenny here, bringing you the first of my World Cup digestives this week from the place where all the action is. The flash-henrys on the telly is reporting from Copa Cabana beach so I’m at the next best thing. Colpy Caravan Park. Melody says to me, she says, “Kenny, you’re not watching all the matches on our telly, I’ll miss Corrie and Big Brother!” so I’m installed in her mum’s 2 berth Vanmaster for the duration.

The tournament got off to a standing start with Brazil triumvirate over the Creations. Then on Friday night we had the moth-watering prospect of Spain v Holland, which was the teams what was in the final last time. When the Spaniels went ahead off of a penalty, I says to myself, I says “For the Dutch, this must be like hound-dog day!“ But I could not have been more wronger. The Never Neverlanders tore Spain apart in a tarantulising display of pace and power. 5-1 it finished, which is also the odds I got on Saturday when I lumped on Holland to win the tournament at the bookies in Turriff.

Of course, I was also watching England’s group very closely. What a surprise the Euroguys got when they got turned over by the plucky little Costa Reekers! Like me, they probably never even knew that Coffee shops get to play in the Cuppa Del Monte. I felt sorrow for England though; they gave it a good go against Italy but came up short. What a shame for their physio what broke his ankle in the piley-on after the England goal! It’s not often you see a member of the coaching staff get injured during a game. Not since I retired, anyway!