Sometimes life plays you a bum hand – a free trip on the Titanic, a course in Turkish mining, hair like Arthur Scargill, a sense of smell when a dung beetle – or being born a Scot.
My views on the upcoming ‘Yes we want to be an insignificance/No, we don’t want to stop leeching off the rest of the UK’ vote are already well known. Heightened now by an excited email from a Scottish friend telling me that though he lived in France (see what I’d said about leaving the place!) and couldn’t vote, a German friend of his living in Glasgow (who, bizarrely can vote) had offered to vote ‘on his behalf’.
So there you go, they are skanks as well and appear to be pleased to adopt voting procedures common in Zimbabwe and Bosnia. Niiiice.
But then, from time to time, things perk up and you realise you weren’t born a Scot and you have just been royally entertained by someone – and that, even better, Glynsky and Pete may be on the verge of recruiting a new ‘part timer’ on a ‘Zero hours’ pay scale!
Apparently, wanting to be known in the future as Erasmus,
(for reasons only he knows) said geezer’s views are not only at worst parallel to mine, they on occasion go into orbit leaving me as mere cinders spilt on the carpet.
As an intro, here are some of his thoughts on ‘Scottish and Irish Questions’ :
The origin of all the problems was William lll of England who was a Dutch orange and kicked the shit out of James ll (or Vl if you are a Scot) banishing him to the ignominy he deserved as a) a Scot and b) a habitual paddler in deer blood. For the purposes of this story, a plonker.
As a confirmed protestant (not a good idea being a catholic in England at that time) he then looked around for those best suited to the next kicking and chose the Micks. This was a bit sad really as most of them are quite nice and friendly despite having been chosen later and for the same reason by Cromwell.
He needed a few more people to assist in this intention – and at the lowest possible cost (being Dutch). So he set about recruiting a large number of Scottish Presbyterian Neo Nazis doling out promises of packets of land with slave income to recompense them for the ‘liberation’ efforts they exercised over the north of Ireland.
Their willingness to assist was fuelled by the in bred desire of all Scots to escape their depressing and crap climate which had been forced on them by being caged in by the sun worshipping Romans who recognised the bipolar Picts for what they really were (bi and near the pole) and, as the NHS should do now, pinned them behind a wall to keep them from scaring the shit out of kids.
In later years the English, of course, were much cleverer and sold the world the notion of ‘The British Empire’ which was not in fact British but ‘Scottish’ as their pathological and lemming like desire to leave was exploited by those bright southerners to get someone (anyone!!) to go to stinking hot climates, meet people who they could regularly bomb or beat up (the continuing Scot desire for self aggrandisement) and to steal local stuff (which they had done for centuries to the Irish) and send it back to England for those who could appreciate it.
There is but one way to dispose of the problem – in keeping with the great American tradition of a 3 Point Plan.
• Charter P+O to supply sufficient ex Korean ferry boats to relocate all of Scot parentage back into the land of their fathers.
• Get the Queen Victoria to accompany any of Irish parentage from Glasgow back to Ireland.
• Relocate Celtic (and probably Liverpool) Football Club to Belfast.
So there you have it, History like she should be taught, ideas for a new series of reality TV shows, shades of Simon Sharma and, I hope, a possible future contributor to G+P.
Yours, diablog, toasting oranges