“A third bridge over troubled waters” – I’ll believe it when I see it

Tim Bee, The Conscientious Objector

It was with horror no little personal angst that I noted work on the ‘So-called’ third Don Crossing commenced last week. I live in Bridge of Don and whilst I very much object to the utter gridlock that our city faces twice every working day, I also object to the building of this new bridge. I’ve talked before about the inconvenience that the so-called Western Peripheral ‘Route’ is going to cause during the construction phase and I know – For. A. Fact. – that there will be similar mass disruption caused by this new traverse. The first phase work involved tree-felling. I object to that. I love trees. Without trees we’d have no Oxygen, and the atmosphere would be choked with Carbon Dioxide. By cutting down these trees the supporters of this project are saying, in effect, that they want to starve us all of air. Madness. Utter Madness. As always, it’s one rule for the Amazonian rain forest and another for Balgownie Drive. Secondly, there’s the confusion this will cause. I object to the fact this gives Aberdonians three options for direction of travel to work. Three? Are you serious? Existing road policy is such that there is only ever one way to get from A to B. One way from town to the airport, one way from the Haudagain to Altens. Who has the mental capacity to deal with multiple options like that at 7:45 in the morning? I can barely manage the choice betwwen toast and sugar puffs. You mark my words, The Parkway will be brought to a standstill with people simply sitting in their cars, unable to move while they think hard, really hard, about which crossing to take. Thirdly, and finally, I object to the ruling Labour group changing their mind over this particular development. We need consistency from our elected representatives, and this kind of flexibility and compromise completely bucks the trend of party-politicking and petty point scoring that we have come to expect from this administration. If they’re going to start paying attention to the needs of the electorate, the results will be chaos! For that reason alone, I object!

Jimmy Hollywood, Sandilands most Eligible Bachelor

So, according to some of today’s media, Monday 20th of January, is kent as Blue Monday. It is supposed tae be the maist depressing day of the year. Well, I suppose it depends on fit news source ye listen to. If it’s Metro or Sky TV then it’s today. A’by else thinks that Blue Monday fell on the 6th of January. Either way, for a self-confessed man aboot town, local romeo and frequenter of the Soul Casino, January in itself is a pretty rubbishy four wiks. Every quine that I wid like tae see oot is staying in. Efter the festive period, some are de-toxifying, some have blown all their cash on parties, onesies and ‘ironic’ Christmas wooly-pullies and some just scoffed ower mony Quality Street and cannae yet squeeze intae ony of their ga’an oot claes. On any given January Setterday nicht in Aiberdeen, it is pretty much impossible tae get a trap. Aye, for mere mortals it’s impossible. Jimmy will still get lucky. It’s just that in January, pickings is slim, and it’ll most likely be with a lassie that looks a bit like Lionel Blair. There’s nae getting away fae the fact that a’bdy’s skint in January. So, oan a night oot, I too like to economise whilst still making sure I look the business. Nae taxis, I’ll get Ma Hollywood tae drap me aff in town (and she’ll pick me up again at The Dolphin at 3am, assuming I’ve nae managed ony a pick up of my ain, if ye ken fit I’m sayin’). I’ll dust aff the old Miami Vice white suit and I’ll head tae Club Tropicana (far my mate Dykers is the Bouncer). Be warned, though, contrary to popular belief, at Club Tropicana the drinks are NAE free – aye, unless ye get friendly with a gaggle of those Bieldside Cougars fa’re drippin’ in cash and Chanel Number 5. Cheers!

 Tanya Souter, lifestyle guru

Since Hogmanay, the papers his been full of stuff aboot the dangers of overeating. And me wi a pile of selection boxes still to plough hrough – a happy new year to you and a’! The boffins is saying an obesity crisis is rushing towards us. Which I thought wiz funny, cos I didna think fatties really did running. Apparently, reports that 50% of Brits could be obese by 2050 seriously under-estimate the problem and the NHS is nearing collapse as a result. Scary stuff, it’s enough to mak ye start comfort eating! The big problem is that sugar is a right sleekit so and so, and is hidden in a’ sort of places that ye widna expect: in things like fruit, vegetables and even condiments. Obviously there is only so much you can do aboot the last een, because birth control is very important. But we can still tak sensible steps to keep the pounds aff. So I’ve been on a health kick – diet mixers in my vodka (ye dinna notice the difference efter the first 5), saying ‘No’ to satsumas and picking a’ the lettuce aff my kebabs.