Cautious and I sleep easy in our beds, separate beds (not that it matters), knowing that our daily efforts make the world a better place to live. Sadly those around us seem determined to trash the place. Our esteemed Prime Minister decides upon the perfectly reasonable step of charging people for taking their gas-guzzling, squirrel-squashing,… Continue reading On Your Bike, Blair!
Tommy’s Ode to Joy
On the occasion of Mr Tommy Sheridan announcing that he may form a new socialist party after infighting among the members of the SSP prompted by salacious and unfounded tales of his private life. Mr Sheridan has been found by a court of law to be not guilty of random and wanton shagging. These are (not really) his words.
Ode to the wee man
On the sad occasion of the death of one of Scotland’s favourite sons, the much-loved mountaineer, author and broadcaster Tom Weir
Ode to Tommy Sheridan (Allegedly)
On the undignified occasion of the court case involving Thomas Sheridan and the News of the World.
Obrigado Portugal
An ode to our friends and European neighbours Portugal. Not for any particular reason, you understand. Just because they are great.
Ode to Andy Murray
On the occasion of tennis superstar Andy Murray upsetting the sensibilities of the English nation by saying he’d not support their bid for World Cup glory
Anyone But England
On the occasion of the 2006 World Cup and in the wake of ‘controversy’ over my declaration of support for Trinidad and Tobago
Ode to sunshine in winter
On the occasion of my very important visit to the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne.
Two down, two to go
HowyaIt’s day three and I’m sitting here with a smile the size of Cork on me bake. Jaysus but it’s been deadly so far.Tuesday was brand new and I was laughing me cacks off at the faces of the English eejits who thought they were all in on this steamer for Sweet Wake to romp… Continue reading Two down, two to go
Sweets for me sweet, Noland for me honey
HowyaJayus I love the smell of a scam in the morning. First Tuesday of Cheltenham and there’s already a whisper for a hit on the sods with the satchels. A whisper? It’s a bleeding roar.You’ll know that every Paddy is supposed to be on Sweet Wake in the opener, convinced that he’ll rattle up like… Continue reading Sweets for me sweet, Noland for me honey