Thank you to Marcia, Brenda, Brendan, Erik, John, T and Andi.
We had a lot of contributions, so I’ve held some over for later in the week. Given that the news is likely to be unremittingly bad, we’ll probably need them.
Bonus now is a song from Andimac.
Oh, and this, just in, from Erik
Tesco, Aldi and Lidl are giving away free turkeys to any one who can run faster than the security.
**********************
The humorous item about the turkeys in supermarkets reminds me of the time Moira Anderson was detained by security in Jenner’s during a state visit to Edinburgh. She swore me to silence over the profoundly embarrassing incident, so my lips are sealed. All I can mention are a mauve cashmere scarf, a charming carriage clock and some garments of an intimate nature.
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Oh go on. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing the story with a few intimate friends…
Mauve, you say?
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No such coyness for Andy Ste wart. You’ll remember we left him in Egypt where he’d composed his smash-hit Camel Town Lock to mark the centenary of the Suez Canal…
The Suez centenary was a glittering affair, attended by royalty, world leaders, and Hollywood stars. At the main concert, Andy shared top billing with Frank Sinatra and the two songsters immediately struck up a warm rapport.
Frank had recently made a brief visit to Scotland and Andy was able to tell him what an impression he had made, not least his wife and how her praises were being sung by legions of supporters of one of Scotland’s leading football clubs. Mrs Sinatra had accidentally left her scarf at the Glasgow theatre where he had performed. This was quickly installed as a prized possession in the trophy-room at Ibrox Park, home of Rangers football club.
And Frank was delighted to learn that the Rangers fans took every opportunity to deliver enthusiastic renderings of “The Sash Mia Farrow Wore”. He was equally pleased to learn that another of his chart-topping songs had been adopted as an anthem by Celtic supporters, the great rivals of the Ibrox side and the other half of the ‘Old Firm’ as the teams are known. For Celtic fans, that Sinatra song will always be their Number One, perfectly encapsulating their sentiments as they belt out repeated choruses of “Rangers in the Shite”.
Another Sinatra favourite was top of the pops with holidaymakers from Scotland’s central belt during the annual fairs season and their traditional trip “doon the water” to the Clyde resorts. Ferryboats would be packed with revellers heading for their fortnight’s break, holding hands and joining in lusty community renditions of the Sinatra hit “Every yin’s gaun tae Dunoon.”
In between, they would often engage in another long-standing tradition – hanging over the rail and invoking the intervention of the fabled Scottish sea-gods Boab and Hughie to bring them relief from seasickness. Cries of “Bo-o-o-ab… H-u-u-u-ghie!!” could be heard from stem to stern as they disgorged countless pints of heavy, wee haufs, bottles of Lanliq, and the lunchtime mutton pies and Bovril that always marked the start of holiday fine dining.
Frank had no idea that he and Mia were so popular in Scotland so he asked Andy if there was anything he could do to return the compliment. Indeed there was!
(To be continued…)
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Hmmm…
Fancy, all that Scottish history that I never knew.
🙂
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Of course there was that incident involving Sidney Devine and Mia Farrow’s scarf. The media tried to hush it all up but I believe Mary Marquis let something slip on Reporting Scotland. That was back in the days before Nicola Sturgeon’s Scottish Executive went and spoiled everything for our BBC. And they did it deliberately.
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Ha ha… Oh for the good old days before any of that separatist nonsense, eh, Beauregard?
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Indeed, Tris! After all, who in their right mind would deliberately set out to exacerbate any Ludger’s anger issues?
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I have never encountered a runaway coo, but I have encountered a runaway horse.
It was the weirdest thing. All of a sudden there was no traffic, and no other pedestrians.
The horse came clattering towards me, obviously frightened by the broken traces and ruined sled it was pulling behind it.
For a brief moment, I thought I should dash out into the road and try to stop it.
Then discretion proved the better part of valour, and I ducked behind a road sign.
Unfortunately, the horse ran on into the town centre, and injured an old lady, before it stopped.
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LOL. Are you sure it wasn’t a reindeer?
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Funny thing, tris, there was no snow. Some of these Austrian peasants don’t know that the wheel has been invented.
Except they all drive round in BMWs and Mercedes.
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Nice group of cartoons and Big Fat Tam !
Was there ever a more predictable headline than “Lame duck pardons turkey”?
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/nov/24/trump-turkey-thanksgiving-white-house-ceremony
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That Melania Trump reminds me of the sort you see hanging around Central Station about 3 in the morning on a Sunday hoping for a taxi. She says “Get me a taxi. Ah’m a model.” Yet we all know she works in the Wills factory and she’s headed home to Ruchazie. It makes my blood boil. Lock her up!
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Imagine your blood boiling when you’re deceased, Percy.
Munguin wants to know what to do with black spot on the roses. Although I said we should ask that nice Dr Boxer woman on Rosemary and Thyme,, he said you might be cheaper… what with being dead and all.
🙂
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Arr, you got pirates…
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Ha ha … Good laugh there from David Smith, Danny.
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So there’s another lockdown….
Apparently americans wearing baseball hats backwards can’t possibly know anything, so here’s an english voice instead…just on the subject of covid.
https://ugetube.com/watch/still-think-this-stuff-is-a-quot-theory-quot-climb-out-of-the-rock-you-are-under_h9NZdO7uuJlUeN4.html
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The English expert is scornful of tinfoil hats, and I think I know why. He’s wearing a much superior version – a made -to-measure deerstalker. It’s got a titanium crown, lined with high-grade stainless steel to match a skull cast taken by a consultant Harley Street phrenologist, thus ensuring a perfect fit. The fore and aft peaks are tungsten, and the flexible ear-flaps fashioned from a blend of carbon nano-fibre and the finest Cheviot fleece, hand-woven by tweed craftsmen in Harris.
I’m no metallurgist so I can’t vouch for the non-permeability of the main structure, but unless he wears it sideways, Napoleon style, he’ll be in no danger of having the wool pulled over his eyes. And never does, judging by the clarity of vision expressed.
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Ah, John, you forgot the super-secret room-temperature superconductor sandwich between the titanium crown and the high-grade stainless steel lining! The incredibly strong magnetic field generated by the vast electrical current flowing through the material prevents any thought patterns from external sources entering the contents of the BrainBucket™, as well as protecting against geomagnetic storms.
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Is the Golden Pheasant really a turkey with a Trump wig? Certainly one way to get a presidential pardon. 😊
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Trump probably thought it was his long lost brother… well, until it gobbled a whole sentence coherently.
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You have some very witty contributors to MNR! Unfortunately I am reduced to quoting another’s witticisms. More from Jimmy Ferguson on twitter!
“My wife wants a divorce because I have no sense of direction.
So I packed my bags & right.”
“I once asked Elton John what he knew about geology.
He said “I remember when rock was young”
“The police stopped me last night & asked where I was between 5 & 11.
Apparently primary school was the wrong answer.”
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LOL. Jimmy’s always good to a giggle.
Thank you, PP.
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Ah, you can scoff but answer me this:
What scientific evidence is there that these flimsy face masks we are required to wear actually stop 5G signals?
How do you explain the fact that in Scotland those areas with the poorest mobile phone coverage have the lowest incidence of Covid infection?
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Rarely do we need to worry about 5G exposure it seems. From what I read, Jake, we experience only 0.2 to 0.4 G on takeoff in a typical passenger jet. And with travel restrictions severely limiting our flight options, even that is now beyond most of us. Jet-fighter pilots, on the other hand, have to deal with up to 9G for brief periods when doing aerobatic manoeuvres. That’s probably why they wear heavy masks and not these flimsy ones you mention.
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Thank you, that’s so reassuring, its a great weight of my shoulders.
I’m in buoyant anyway, I’ve just been for a walk with the dugs and saw a sea-otter! I’m fair chuffed.
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A sea-saw otter?
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Does that mean that when they are flying jets they can download whole movies in seconds, like they can do in Japan and S Korea?
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I’ve heard from an impeccable source that tinfoil facemasks can reduce 5G exposure by 95%, though supplementary oxygen does appear to be required. Interested Munguinites are therefore advised not to try it at home unless, of course, they already receive supplementary oxygen.
It is a mystery to me why fighter pilots do not adopt this device, as it would reduce the physiological effects of high-speed aerobatic manoeuvres to something more akin to the forces which pilots might experience in a Waltzer, that much sought-after export item, crafted by Maxwell & Sons of Musselburgh, used by NASA to weed out the more obviously vomit-prone candidate space cadets.
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One of life’s mysteries, Jake.
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Indeed, Jake!
It is a little-known fact that the post-WWII rise in lung cancer rates correlated closely with the introduction of BBC2 TV on the UHF band and its spread to more and more households across the nation(s), rising again as with increasing prosperity more people had more television sets in more rooms, therefore requiring more UHF aerials. UHF aerials are obviously a major contributing cause to lung cancer, and the populace should remove them forthwith, or at least not pay their TV licences.
Since cable TV came in, naturally lung cancer rates have declined, though in a 5G future all bets are off.
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Ahh, the guilt cascades in. I now realise I have contributed massively to any rise in lung cancers along the Argyll west coast.
For a period I worked as a radio and tv engineer but when Argyll was given the chance to switch away from VHF to UHF (405 to 625 lines) they did, in droves. I and my apprentice installed hundreds of tv sets and UHF aerials.
It took me ages to realise what I was saying when answering to, “And what do you do?”
“Oh, I’m a radio tv engineer but just now my apprentice and I are mostly seen doing aerial erections.”
Dutchess of Argyll, while crawling in the back of her tv, “Are you busy with repairs?”
Me, “Not really but its a nice respite from doing aerial erections.” D of A, “Really. A change is as good as a rest, I suppose.”
I’ll bet that is still going the rounds, among the chintz, lace and chandeliers.
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Hm. I’m not convinced you performed any aerial erections up high enough to become a member of the mile-high club, Alan!
And no, I’m not telling you. Wild horses, &c.
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Oh go on, Ed…
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No, Tris! Absolutely not! I have my reputation to think of.
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You do?…
Sorry, I mean “you do!”
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Totally correct, can’t abide flying 🙂
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Presidents’ Thanksgiving Day messages:
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He’s impressive don’t you think?
Authoritative, commanding and distinguished.
Fair makes you shiver!!!
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😉
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The finger pointing by Trump reminds me of an incident I witnessed when working on the tools as part of a joinery team.
Picture a big contract, loads of different teams, heating ventilation, leccy team, shuttering etc. Many of these guys (almost all were male) were in digs around the island and each month had a long weekend off, half day Friday back ready to start 9am Tuesday.
Tuesday 08:45, flash XJ series Jag arrives having driven up from Glasgow that morning. Site manager is there to meet John the Leccy Maun (it’s more poetic, Andi would understand) as he steps out of the car. Site manager, “You should have been here already, one half hour ago. You better just get your arse in gear, pronto.” Meanwhile John is going through his pockets, selecting tobacco, papers and cig tips, flicks an eye at the moving finger of the site manager, used to try and give emphasis to the cadence of his words. Before the tirade has ended John is in the process of evenly adjusting the tobacco onto a paper, then, “Ye finished?” Pause while concentrating on licking the paper and whilst again concentrating on getting an evenly rolled ciggy delivers, “See you, ya wee bandit, waggle that fingur at me again, an ah’ll snap it aff an ram it up yir arse. Noo, oot ma wey, ave goat work tae dae.” And walks off now smoking a perfectly rolled cigarette like John Wayne with a Glasgow accent.
In the words of John the Leccy Maun, Trump, careful who you waggle your rather small finger at, ya jumped up wee bandit.
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Sounds like my kinda guy! 🙂
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LOL…….Great story!
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That’s exactly the way ar*seholes like Trump and the jumped-up wee bandit from Glasgow have to be dealt with. No attempt to argue, no attempt to placate, just contemptuous silence (aka dumb insolence), followed by a resounding f*uck off accompanied by a threat of violence.
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Just to clarify: we’re talking about people with personality disorders here (the ones who need to be told to f*uck off, not the ones telling them … oh, never mind).
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😉
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Read and understood as you intended Ed.
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I take that John the Leccy Maun was going through a phase.
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😉 very good, like it.
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