P&J Column for 20.10.14

Some folk are so hard to please. Since when has an after-hours lock-in been a bad thing?

Kevin Cash, Money Saving Expert and King of the Grips

An American tourist made the news this wik fan he got locked in a branch o’ Waterstones by mistake and used Twitter to pit oot a request to be rescued. I hiv to say, that struck me less as an amusing sidebar story and mair as a opportunity missed. If I’d discovered I’d been locked into a shop, the alarm system of which didna seem to hiv been activated, I’d hiv been right onto my mobile, too – to my pal Mick the Pill, telling him to cover up the number plates on the Transit and get it backed up to the loading bay, quick-smart. It’s the oldest trick in the book. Me, Mick and Futret McKechnie used to dae it a’ the time at Bruce Millers. Then, to celebrate, we used to ging to the Red Lion, hae a half pint, then pit on wir snorkels and hide in the cauld water tank until closing time, fan we’d mak aff wi a keg each and a full cardboard strip o’ scampi flavoured fries.

I also seen there wiz a big to-do on the Island o’ Coll this week after the free watter tap at the pier got turned aff. I seen later on that they forced bosses at Scottish Watter into daein’ a massive U-turn, which is all well and good, but I think they’d hiv been better advised to get their watter supply turned back on than to make some big-wig dae some trick driving in a lorry. Mind you, it’s nae often that you get something for nithin, these days, is it? Especially seeing the daffies on Mounthooly roundabout is oot of season. My top tips is as follows:-

  1. Bog roll. Diz onyone who has sense, pooches, and access to the toilets at the Bon Accord Cintre ever actually buy this? If so, why?
  1. Libraries. Nae only do ye get a free heat and the opportunity to expand your intellectual horizons, but, wi the benefit of a false I.D. package that the Futret can pit thegither for a surprisingly competitive rate, ye can walk oot wi a bag full of books, CDs and DVDs quicker than you can say “platinum ebay seller”.
  1. Insects. Niver pass a deid insect by. Molluscs either. At any one time I hiv up to 15 deid wasps and forkie-tails and slugs secreted aboot my person in a match-box. Aroond aboot the end o a bar meal, I select a particularly sorry-looking specimen, lob into the gravy and start to scream blue murder. I hivna hid to pay for a denner oot since 1993, fan I foolishly pulled the trick twice in quick succession in the Tilted Wig. Absolute schoolboy stuff.

Shelley Shingles, Showbiz correspondent and Miss Fetteresso 1983

OMG! OMG! OMG! Totes dreamboats alert! I know it’s not completely professional for a serious journalist to drool while they work, but I totally bumped into the actual David Beckham last week! Goldenballs himself was up in Inverness filming some adverts for whisky with that bloke who used to be married to Madonna and – phoowar! Talk about lush! I was there for a very similar gig, shooting a Health & Safety video for the Drumnadrochit Nessie-hunter boat trip, when I caught a glimpse of him looking smoking hot by the banks of the river Affric. There’s not a lot of men who can wear green velour without looking like they’re playing Peter Pan in Panto, but Becks carried it off with his usual aplomb. I read later that David reckons Inverness is “ridiculously beautiful” which is quite a compliment, coming from someone who has lived in Madrid, Los Angeles, Milan and Paris, but knowing him as I do, I’m sure he meant it and wasn’t just saying it to be nice.

Of course, me and Becks go way back. I first met him in 1999, when Fergie took his star-studded Man United squad to Pittodrie for Teddy Scott’s testimonial. I was there in a promotional capacity – as the face of Bovril – and he was trying to rebuild his reputation after his infamous World Cup red card fiasco.

Fergie had substituted him not long after half time and the Dons ended up victorious so it was no wonder he looked so glum, sitting with Ryan Giggs in the lounge afterwards. I thought some of the UK’s premier meat extract beverage might cheer him up so I offers him a cup. “No thanks” he says, “when I’m down, I prefer something with a kick.” that’s when Giggsy pipes up “Just ask Diego Simeone”.

I noticed that his missus, Victoria Posh, had not accompanied him to the Highlands, so I thought I’d chance my arm. As we cruised past I gave him a bit of a trout-pout and my best ‘come-hither’ stare, reclining seductively on the pointy bit of our boat. I asked the cameraman who was filming my video how I looked. “Beautifully ridiculous” he says. It did the trick, because once I’d caught his eye, poor Becks clearly couldn’t concentrate on the job in hand. “Hold on Guy,” I heard him shout, “We’ll have to wait ’til the Little Mermaid’s mum is out of shot.”

Wise words from a ridiculously beautiful man.