Thursday 30 December 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Probably the last post of 2010, unless something way out happens. I did this as `she who must be obeyed' and I tooks turns waiting in a phone queue to make an insurance claim.
The thaw of Sunday night melted the huge weight of ice on the roof, but most of it seemed to come down the inside of the South facing wall.
So we're now waiting for a surveyor...
Thanks to everyone who commented or just lurked. A Guid New Year tae ye a'.

Wednesday 22 December 2010

Seasons Greeting

Hi everybody. Been under the weather(almost literally!) and having some problems at work, so blogging has taken a back seat lately. Apologies to the Newsnet crowd for saying I'd do something to contribute and doing sweet eff all.
Anyhow, the time of the year where we all run about like headless chickens is upon us again, exept this year we're doing it in ice and snow. Just like the ones we used to know...
That's just how I feel about the whole business, if it wasn't for the grandbairns I wouldn't bother. Probably.
What gets on my tits though, is some bloody Christian will comment about the real meaning of Christmas, being totally ignorant about the early church hijacking two festivals to meld them into one which was under it's control.
Saturnalia was a Roman festival where once a year the slaves were allowed certain liberties and were served a meal by their masters, but woe betide them if they went too far. There are echos of this in the medieval tradition "The Lord of Misrule". Look it up.
The other one was the midwinter festival of Yule brought into what was left of the Empire by Germanic soldiers. Originally it was a tally of how much food and forage was left till the spring grass-not enough forage and that old cow gets it. Then gets eaten. Party time.
So to cap it all, two different festivals held at roughly the same time of year which involved eating and drinking; add a sweet ickle baby, mention presents (For me!?) and you have a festival which appeals to all...
"Io Saturnalia!"









Tuesday 30 November 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

The four furry friends and I have been having a ball the past couple of days; they love the snow even though it's up to the shoulders of the three wee ones.
My particular part of the village is cut off by nine inches of snow and abandoned cars, though we can struggle to the main road which is semi-passable but I wouldn't want to try waiting on a bus.
The only down side (at the moment) is that the grandbairns are out making snowmen and sledging, two of them for the first time...and we can't get to them.
Ah well, off to the pub.

Tuesday 9 November 2010

Bletherskite

Click to enlarge
This is something I'm working on at the moment due to a wee conversation at Newsnet Scotland

Sunday 7 November 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

As many of you know, two strangely similar stories have broached, the MSM one somewhat later than the Newsnet Scotland one.
Coincidence? I doubt it. Google FOI and Scottish Secretary, what is the story you're more likely to get?
Sorry for showing another butchered animal again SR, and sorry for the use of italics Bugger...

Thursday 4 November 2010

November the Fifth.


Remember remember the Fifth of November.
I've always loved the sight of fireworks, sparklers, bonfires and immolating Guys.

The taste of baked tatties, roasted chestnuts and mulled wine. And the odd can of Export.

The smell of gunpowder in the evening.

Then there's the preparation, days of scavenging anything that will burn.(How many future antiques have been lost?)

Stuffing auld claes with newspaper and pinning them together, a papier machie'd balloon for a head.(Then adding a Thatcher mask, or pinning on a red rosette)

Nailing the St Catherine wheels to the fence posts, lining up bottles for the rockets and getting the carry out. Braw.

Yet there is a down side.
Days before hand, pets-and their owners, lives are made a misery. Of my dogs, one hates the noise and runs underneath beds or onto laps, two ignore it and the other wants to go out and attack it.

The size of the rockets. The rocket that was shot through the doors of a library a few years ago, was of the same type that I used to buy with my pocket money; a four inch cardboard tube on a stick.

It glanced off some some shelving and a wall then fizzled out.

What if it had been one of the monsters available today? Seven ounces of gunpowder encased in something that that looks like the Taleban use, would have made a mess of anyone that stopped it.


Like this cat.



Monday 18 October 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Grandsons 2 and 3 snoring gently, along with exhausted Granny. Bessie, the protective, clucky, one of my dogs curled up near them. The rest, all food possibilities licked, cluster around my feet. I'll try and stay awake for a while...

Tuesday 12 October 2010

Zzzz....

No time for blogging, had grandsons no. three and four to stay (Five months and eighteen months...)

Tuesday 5 October 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

I've always liked the cynical and pessimistic HP Lovecraft's work. He thought, way back then, that the universe was a bleak place, that it was a Thoth eat Thoth cosmos; and that there was no such thing as society...

Friday 17 September 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

A half hour o' peace from the grandbairns, a couple of Leffe and some usual contempt for the concept of religion and royalty in one post.
Priceless.

Friday 10 September 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Rage triumphed over grief.

The Sky Pixie believers on one side wanted to burn some bound bits of paper.

The Sky Pixie believers on the other side burnt some cloth daubed with stars and stripes.

And threatened death to anyone that may be on the other side.

Sandal slapping goatfuckers, as a friend of mine once said.

Monday 6 September 2010

No more blogging for the moment.

I'm not doing a Rab or a Jeff folks, there has been a death in the family and have lost all appetite for it for now.

Take care folks and phone your family more often.

Thursday 26 August 2010

Monday 16 August 2010

Secret Diary

Many thanks to Bugger the Panda if this doesn't work.

If it does, it was all my idea obviously.

Sunday 15 August 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Been neglecting this blog lately. The pitfalls of real life have caught me a couple of times in the past week.
I think I really have exhausted the Hootsmon format, at least for now. A broken tooth is always probed by a tongue though...

Tuesday 10 August 2010

Fixin tae die radge


Well, come on all of ye, big Scots men,
Uncle Sam needs yer help again.
He's got hisel in a terrible jam
Way ower yonder in Afghanistan
So pit doon yer pint and pick up a gun,
We're gonnie hae a lotta fun.

And it's one, two, three,
Whit are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I don't gie a damn,
Next stop Afghanistan;
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there is nae time tae wonder why,
Fucksake! we're aw gonnie die!


Come on Dave, dinnae be slow,
We all ken that yer in the know
There's plenty guid money to be made
By gien the Army shoddy tools o' its trade,
But just hope and pray though even they're shan,
They work against the Taliban.
chorus

Well, come on generals, let's move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Now you can go and shoot a ragheid
'Cause the only good muzzie is the yin that's deid
And you know that peace can only be won
When they've all blown themsels tae paradise come.
chorus

So come on folks in auld Scotland,
Send yer bairns to the desert sand.
Come on corporations, don't hesitate
To get some profit before it's too late.
And you can be the first ones in your block
To get some Russian gas in a box.
***************************************************

I did something similar to this on the Hootsmon comments page a couple of years ago, just after being disabused of the notion that this was a war to protect us (the West) from terrorism.
I thought then, it was fight them there or fight them here; I was sadly wrong.

The Taliban in the 'stan are people who have been fighting all their life: Against their family, if they feel dishonoured, their neighbours, the neighbours of their neighbours, the next tribe, their Government, the Soviets(with American aid)
When they became the Government, the rebels...
Who were their neighbours, next tribe etc.
And now us.
But how can a medieval tribesman actually hurt us?
By taking our troops onto a battlefield of his choosing and ignoring the "rules of engagement" that our forces are handicapped by.
As in the Middle East habit of shooting weapons into the air at weddings which have resulted in well reported atrocities, as American bombs kill women and children as they return fire after several rounds from ill-aimed revelers rifles ping off airframes, and the rockets were only fireworks. Obviously.
We all know in Britain how the Yank Air Force is incompetent don't we?George W. was a pilot in it after all:)
So: Our troops are seen as aggressors to the Muslim world; their brand of sky pixie belief can't be trashed like communism was as the American brand of sky pixie belief would suffer collateral damage...

We have to leave as soon as possible.

Peace Man.


Friday 23 July 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Who passed their exams?(for them) I think we should be told...

Wednesday 21 July 2010

Hootsmon Headlines

Oor Geordie bandwagon jumping again.

Friday 9 July 2010

Hootsmon Comments



I thought it was about time to open the front page on the Hootsmon, and where better to do it than on a "randomly" selected collection of comments? It's a bit of an in joke, but then that's the Scotsman, so what the hell.






Please leave a comment ;¬)

Tuesday 22 June 2010

Tam White 12 July 1942 - 21 June 2010

"Any auld hippies in the bar?" Was Tam's usual refrain when we used to walk into where he was playing. "We" being myself, my brother and a Roy Wood lookalike.
Yes, there were auld hippies in the bar Tam.
Peace man.