P&J Column for 24.2.14


Everyone likes crispy duck, but this is ridiculous

Money Saving Expert and King of the Grips – Kevin Cash

The burning down of Jimmy Chung’s aa ye can eat buffet is a sad day for lovers of value in Aiberdeen. As a man who tries to economise wherever possible, I hiv been known to spend a bittie time there, particularly on the aff-peak days of Monday to Thursday. There you would find me, taking in the conversation of my significant other, taking in the sea view, but maist importantly, taking in enough won-tons and crispy aromatic duck that I didna hae to eat for the rest of the week.

Me and the missus hid wir first date there. Straight away I kint I hid found my soul-mate. Ither quines refused to stuff deep-fried chicken balls up their cheeks for later consumption, but Kylie wiz right into it. She kint that looking like a hamster til ye could get outside and cough them into a hunky wiz a small price to pay in order to access exceptional value. We used to ging there steady, until the manager clocked that I wiz filling my pooches with spare ribs and apple fritters and Kylie hid bought a waterproof handbag to fill wi hot and sour soup. Still, he wiz very decent aboot it fan he wiz gie’en us the bum’s rush. He very kindly agreed not to grass us up to the Sizzling Wok, who we took only 6 months to eat into insolvency, before pitting Cosmo’s business model under serious strain. Yer first love is awyse the deepest, though, so here’s to Chung’s. May it rise like a Pheonix fae the ashes and re-open as soon as possible. Hopefully wi a new manager, fa dizna ken me and Kylie.

View from the midden – Agricultural news with Mieklewartle Tv’s Jock Alexander

Weel, it’s bin a slippery wik in the village. Inspired by the Winter Olympics, mony locals have been sliding along icey lanes and falling ower in exciting wyes. Maistly efter a good skite in the pub. Sochi his the Luge and the Ski-jump, we hiv a similar traditional event, the Heiter. This year, and in the face of fierce competition, Feel Moira retained her title as village Heiter champion with a spectacular triple salco aff the pavement intae the sink-hole in Wullie Kemp’s bottom field. It used tae be his top field, but thanks tae the recent few wiks of rain, Wullie’s ferm has slipped anither 500 yards doon the hill.

I hid a similar sinking feeling as I read the news the ither day aboot the canny fermer who’s mony far-flung skelps of land manage tae rake in three million quid a year in EU farm subsidies. Fit wye did I nae think of that? Of course, here in Meiklewartle we’re nae a part of the EU. I believe we may still be in the League of Nations, but I dinna think that coonts.

‘Cava’ Kenny Cordiner – the sports columnist who gets excited by curling once every four years

As regulator readers will be cutely aware of, if ever there was a man what loved his sport, I do. If it’s not football on the googlebox, it’s the gee-gees. If it’s not neither of them two, I’ll even watch cricket! So, I’ve been having a wail of a time this last fortnight watching the Winter Olympics. I tell you what, they might be moaning about the tarantula rain they’ve had down in England, but spare a thought for the Russians, they’ve got snow everywhere! And fair play to them. They don’t let a bit of snow cancel everything like we do over here. They carried on with the Olympics like it didn’t make no difference at all.

Some of the different events they have over there is bonkers. We won a gold medal in this thing called “skeleton”, which looks putrifying. It minded me of when me and my pal Stevie Twigg from Torry used to steal that bakery delivery crates and slide down Mansefield Road on our bellies. What a laugh we had, until the day Stevie collided with a Milk Float, and got rushed to Foresterhill with percussion.

It made me totally bust with pride to watch the all-Scottish curling teams come home with some medals. The men done good to reach the final but me and my mates really enjoyed watching the women. I must say, Eve Muirhead is very easy on the ice. I don’t know what that means, but Dunter Duncan says it a lot when he was round here watching it with me on the 50′ plasma.

But the sport what made me feel the most entropy for one of our own athletes was the speed skating. Young Scot Elise Christie was disqualified three times for minor infarctions, something that old Kenny is all too familiar with. If you ask me how many times I have had my hopes dashed by officials taking a dim view of me unfairly wiping out my opponents, all I can say is “I cannot count”.