P&J Column for 28.4.14

A ‘Lifestyle Quiz’ to get a mortgage? It’s as if the banks think lending people more than they can afford might crash the economy!


Kevin Cash, money saving expert and king of the grips

The banks is noo asking a load of nosey questions aboot yer spending habits afore ye get a mortgage. So, if ye’re needing tae persuade a high street bunk that you’re a safe bet for a massive loan, here is a few tips on foo to cut back on some of life’s little luxuries, so you can tell them fit they wint tae hear.

 Nights oot -Why waste good money on blasting music and flashing lights in nightclubs?  Jist set yer ipod to max, unscrew your lightbulbs a half-turn, grab a 12 pack of Kestrel and shout incomprehensible nithings to your other half in the comfort of yer ain hame.

Gym Membership -Ye ken ice scultpures?  Great muckle swans and sicna keigh that folk get made jist so they can watch them melt?  They are slightly less of a waste of money than gym memberships.   A good cardiovascular workout can be achieved for free in ony public park.  Simply smack a muscular dog on neb and run awa.  The snapping jaws of an enraged pit bull will get those legs pumping faster than ony funcy personal trainer

Haircuts – First, dinna worry.  This een will niver stand up. Noo that Sinead O’Connor is back in Ireland, wifies is much less likely to be baldy-heided than mannies.  It therefore stands to reason that taking the price of yer haircut intae consideration is sexual discrimination: LED, fabulous corpus, putatis potatoes, it’s bound to be struck doon by the courts. My pal, Mick the Pill, is mounting a legal challenge. There’s naebody better qualified; he’s niver missed an episode of Silks and he used to work on Frunkie Lefevre’s briefs, along wi his shirts and suits, fan he hid that Dry-cleaners on Craigie Loanings. Meanwhile, my auntie Selma will whip oot the femly pudding bowl and cut yer hair for a bottle of Costcutters’ ain strong cider.  But mind and get the haircut afore you hand it ower.  They da call her Shaky Selma for nithin.  I eence forgot that rule and ended up with a lug like Evander Holyfield’s efter fighting Mike Tyson.

Lord Cosmo Ludovik Fawkes-Hunte, 13th Earl of Kinmuck

24 April 2014.  The day when one of the last bastions of Great Britishness, the Royal Air Force, surrendered any claim to air superiority and reduced themselves to the status of airborne cinema usherettes.  Russia has the temerity to buzz us with a pair of Tupelov bombers and we do no more than fly alongside them, ask them if we can direct them to anywhere in particular and wonder if their seats are nice and comfy.  It is a national outrage.  I don’t pay taxes on the very small amount of my income that I declare so the British military can do favours for foreign servicemen.  For fifty pence in the pound on one tenth of my actual earnings I demand a decent service.  Nor am I interested in any of this nonsense about the fact that Ivan didn’t actually enter British airspace.  A mere technicality.  It looked, fleetingly, as if they might do; and if young British men in the inner cities can be shot by the police on the basis it looked, fleetingly, that they might be holding a gun, then the RAF are honour bound to adopt the same approach. It might be suggested that I am some kind of maniac who wants to precipitate global conflict. And that is absolutely right. From the time that the First Earl stuck the head on a Sassenach who was sneaking up behind Robert the Bruce and was rewarded with half of Sutherland, the Kinmucks have always prospered in war.  And there’s nothing worth watching on the telly at all, now that the Saturday Night Takeaways’s finished.  Tally ho!

‘Cava’ Kenny Cordiner – the Football writer who  has the full backing of the board.

I always knew that my old gaffer, Fergie, was a hard habit to follow.  David Moyes has found that out after getting his jotters from Man United this week.  The United fans cried Moyes “The Chosen One” but after this season seen them trophyless and anguishing in mid-table, they was wishing that they’d choosed someone else.  When he lost to his old club Everton last weekend the board decided fair enough was fair enough.  They told Moyes that the next thing he tore open wouldn’t be an opponent’s defence, it would be his P45.

If you ask me, Fergie needs to take his share of the blame for Moyes’ disappointing time at the helmet.  Fergie recommended him for the job personally but he left behind a squad that was a pale intonation of what it was when it was good. 

I’ve wrote before about managers getting the sack and as my regular readers will know I too have tasted the butter taste of dismissal.  When I got the axe from Locos back in the day I came personally recommended for the job by the outgoing gaffer.  When he resigned he said to the Chairman. “You’re trying to run this team into the ground!  Well I can’t be part of it.  If you really want to bury the club why not get Kenny to replace me!”  What a gent.