Parochial News Day

So I've managed not to post for an awfy long time and it's nobodies fault but my own. I'll get back to regularly posting for my reader soon but before that let's have a look at what the local peeps in sunny Dundee have been talking about.

Those of you in the Colonies may not be aware that the government of the Heart of the Empire has been having a bit of a rough time at the moment. Leaked documents have revealed that our supposedly trustworthy MP's have been fiddling their expenses for years on soft porn, moats and duck houses. Of course this hasn't been the solely a crime of New Labour, let's face it not even the biggest betrayer of Socialism's cause has a moat just yet, so voters in the English Council and European elections obviously felt the need to look for another party which would uphold the British values of fairness, social democracy and equality. Many chose the British National Party.

Now I've mentioned this bunch of vile racist scum at least once before and my opinion hasn't changed in the slightest. Given that I was shocked when I received a BNP leaflet through the door saying that it's people just like me who vote for them and I should vote for them because,

It's not racist to oppose mass immigration and political correctness - it's common sense

Which is funny since I'm married to an immigrant and a big believer in not being a bigoted twat which political correctness seems to be about. Weird to think that I'm they're targeted group likesay. Needless to say I voted Green.

In the end our little fascists managed to win quite a few English council seats and two seats in the European Parliament thanks to many Labour supporters not voting because Labour are shitebags and idiots voting for them either because they don't think the party's about hate or because they're full of hate themselves. So flush from victory to racist Nick Griffin decides to hold a press conference outside parliament,



Haven't you always wondered why the members of the master race are always so plug ugly? I've also always wondered why peeps who decide to egg fascists don't boil them first.

Anyway the noble citizenry of my home town reacted thus,

Democratic right
Those who tried to attack BNP leader Nick Griffin after the recent Euro elections are an affront to the democratic system.

The same goes for the politicians who said it is a bad day for Britain — who are worried about the BNP’s rise.

The BNP seems to me to be the only ones willing to tackle crime. — George Aimer, Kinghorne Road, Dundee.

So Mr Aimer thinks that as long as you put the good old bobbies back on the beat a wee bit of racism and homophobia alright likesay. You'd think that all the crime committed by Dundee's immigrant population, obviously in the evenings when they leave their 12 hour day jobs that we don't want to do or universities that we can't be arsed going to, hugely outweighs what's done by Shuggy the ned. To be fair George would probably bring back the birch and hanging for Shuggy.

It's a proud day to be Dundonian.

Where do the nights of sleep go when they do not come to me?

So normal life has gotten into the way of me updating my blog yet again. I doubt anybodies really a'that bothered but if you are soz an a'that.

Rosa's nipped down to Kiwiland to visit a friend who's just lost her mother to cancer. I've a mate up here waiting for his father to go the same way and I can only imagine how hard it must be. There's not much you can say but they're all in my thoughts. It's weird not having the lass around and it seems to have fucked up my sleeping, probably because I've gotten used to sleeping whilst hanging off the side of the bed and trying to cosy into a small corner of duvet. At least I've got the satisfaction that Rosa'll be suffering hideous jetlag over there.

On a brighter note we managed to catch The Black Seeds in Edinburgh before she left. Barnaby and the gang were as brilliant as ever and I liked the sound of their new stuff. I only hope that the new album is nearly as good as they are live. I've found their previous albums good but not great and know they can do better. If Fat Freddy's Drop can make a great studio album surely they can.

I'd like to tell you that when Rosa's gone I spend my time moping round the house, pining at work and crying into my pillow late at night but that would be a lie. I've actually spent most of my time watching zombie films and playing Fallout 3 on the old Xbox. Fallout 3 is the new CRPG set in a post-apocalyptic world where you try to survive and solve problems in the traditional way, shooting peeps in the face!



See what I mean?

This isn't to say that I've gone all hermit-like or anything. I got free tickets to the Scotland-New Zealand rugby match from an awfy nice Kiwi bloke called Matt so I dragged wee Graham through yesterday for lunch at my club then the pleasure of watching Scotland finally defeat the Kiwi's. Lunch was very nice. I've also got tickets to see De La Soul on Thursday which should be fucking great. Lacking a Kiwigirl to go with I've had to convince my mate Jamesie who hates hiphop that buying a ticket and driving me there and back is a great idea. Weirdly enough he's agreed on the proviso that I am absolutely not allowed to wear hiphop shorts, converse in a ghetto stylee or gett blinged up. He's a harsh man but fair.

Parochial Sports News

As you may be aware I've been an Arab, that is a Dundee United, supporter all my life. I grew up in through the 80's when United were a force in European football with famous wins against such teams as Barcelona and FC Benfica. It was a great team full of character and brilliance and it's brightest star for me was Paul Sturrock who was one of the greatest left-wingers of his time and a fantastic guy. One of the highlights of my young life was being a ballboy for the team in a European game even if I'll always be remembered as the lad that threw the ball to the wrong team, much to the hilarity of the whole city which was watching the game on Scotsport.

Suffice to say Sturrock is one of my greatest heroes so it was a bit of a blow recently to recently learn that he has been suffering from Parkinsons for eight years. At times like this you need to get things in perspective and Sturrock helped us Arabs do just that on Saturday after United beat Plymouth Argyle, the team he manages, 1-0 in Saturdays pre-season friendly.



This has caused quite a bit of controversy in the City of Discovery with many Dundee fans expressing shock and the Lord Provost saying he was 'disappointed' with the comments. I'm with Sturrock on this one though,

Sturrock later apologised if he had caused any offence and said his comments had been intended as banter.

He said, “My remarks were entirely tongue-in-cheek.

“If I have offended anyone I apologise but it was just banter, the sort of thing I’ve been on the receiving end of for the last 25 years whenever I’ve been out on the town in Dundee.

“I have no ill feelings towards Dundee fans and was deeply touched by the kind messages of support I received from them last week when I revealed I was suffering from Parkinson’s disease.”

In the end it's all fun and nothing more than you'd hear in the pub between mates who support the opposing teams. Anyway Sturrock is a mere amateur when it comes to controversy involving United. To see a true professional at work observe the legendary Sir Jim McLeans method of dealing with stupid questions, it's worth watching the whole 3 minutes for the buildup to the climax.

I Hate Scotland

I've been an almost fan of Ballboy for years, always nearly getting around to catching a gig or buying an album. It's a bit of a loss because they are fucking brilliant likesay!

Parochial Poetry Day

I wouldn't like to think that the citizens of Dundee are an uncultured lot. Au contraire we are a city of people who take great joy in indulging in new experiences in the world of art. As evidence I present a letter writer to the Daily Telegraph who has chosen to break free from the shackles of mere prose and enter a new world of poetry,

What for?

I composed this poem because the news gets more depressing every day. Where Has Great Britain Gone? I remember during the War When people helped one another, But now it seems that every day This country is getting like “Big Brother”. Politicians are sitting in Parliament Making up their own rules Such as closing little post offices And also lots of schools. Because they are all the “Fat Cats” With two houses, and two cars, Who grant themselves big pay rises And now live like film stars. Food prices are rising daily, Also the price of petrol and oil And ordinary folk are struggling to manage No matter how hard they toil. Prisons are now like holiday camps Where inmates all have a T.V., But do they pay a licence for it, Or do they also get that free? Prisoners get days out shopping, Making a prison sentence a joke, And ordinary people who like a drink and a fag Have to stand outside the bar to smoke. Parents can’t discipline their kids now By giving them little smacks, Then they wonder why some teenagers Are found guilty of street attacks. So where has Great Britain gone The country who won the War? When thousands of young folk lost their lives And I’m wondering now, “WHAT FOR”? — Jean Hendrie, Strathmore Place, Broughty Ferry, Dundee.

It's always good when peeps find new ways to say we're going to Hell in a handcart and that stopping prisoners having to shit into buckets and not being able to beat our children is what's responsible. Really gives you a warm feeling inside likesay.

Parochial News Day

It's been quite a week in the news what with our current wars oversea, North Korea giving up its nuclear ambitions and the breakup of Jordan & Peter Andres marriage but all this was put into perspective by the front page of yesterdays Courier,

Dismay after shaggy dog has close shave

Fiona Whyte with Eddie.

By Debbie Kerr A DUNDEE pet owner has been left distraught after her dog was treated to a makeover at a doggy beauty parlour in the city. Fiona Whyte took her dog Eddie—a six-year-old Lhasa Apso—to the Family Friends Grooming Parlour, in Albert Street, but could not believe her eyes when he came back bald. The shocked pet owner said Eddie had been booked in only to get his long coat trimmed back last Thursday but was horrified to discover that her beloved pooch had been shaved all over. Fiona, of Gowan Avenue, said, “His coat was getting quite long and can get quite matted so I decided to put him in so they could take his coat back a bit and brush it out, which was agreed with the shop at the time. “However, they must have decided that his hair was so matted that the quickest thing to do was just to shave his coat off.” Fiona added, “They completely shaved him with a razor as if he were a sheep or something. No one called me to ask my permission to shave him, even though I had left my contact number with them. They didn’t have any right to shave his entire coat.” Fiona’s mum went to collect the hapless dog later that afternoon while she was at work and she was dismayed to see how Eddie looked when she arrived home that evening. She continued, “I was really upset when I saw him after work, he looked like a completely different dog. I would have gone to complain straight away but the shop was closed by then and wasn’t open again until Tuesday.” In addition to Eddie’s slightly odd appearance, Fiona says there have been serious consequences of the unauthorised shear. “He has been really affected by it and is constantly biting himself or doing the toilet in the house even though he has been house trained for six years,” she said. “He has been really nervous and is constantly running about and is finding it difficult to sit down. This is totally out of character as he is usually quite a relaxed dog but since this, he has just been a nervous wreck.” Irene Cunningham, the manager of the Family Friends Grooming Parlour, has hit back at the dog owner’s accusations, claiming she had no other option but to shave Eddie’s coat. She said, “Mrs Whyte has come into the shop in the past and I have even showed her how to groom Eddie properly. Unfortunately there was just no way that I could keep his coat because it was so badly matted and unhealthy. When we cut it just came off like a sheep’s coat—it came off in one. “This is not the first time that we have groomed Eddie and when anything has happened in the past, it has never been a problem. “I still have Eddie’s coat in the shop and you can see it is completely matted—I was left with no other option but to take it off. Eddie is much happier without his coat on but Mrs Whyte is not.”

The Earth shook for me when I read this brilliant piece of journalism I can tell you. This is the kind of story that can blow a town like Dundee wide open. Realising the huge import of a story like this The Courier was quick to update us today,

Dog ‘do’ the right thing to do—SSPCA

A DUNDEE animal parlour’s decision to cut short a dog’s hair was vindicated by the SSPCA last night.

An officer from the Scottish Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals visited Family Friends Grooming Parlour in Albert Street after a complaint by dog owner Fiona Whyte was reported in The Courier.

Fiona had taken her six-year-old Lhasa Apso to the parlour to get its long coat trimmed and was not happy that her dog’s hair appeared to have been shaved all over.

Parlour manager Irene Cunningham again defended her decision to cut the hair so short, saying last night they had “no other option because the dog’s coat was so matted.”

Irene called the SSPCA to show them the matted hair and prove she was right to have trimmed it so short.

An SSPCA spokeswoman said last night, “One of our investigators visited the parlour this morning to look at the cut hair and although it is not a major problem he will be talking with the owner. Although the upper coat of a Lhasa Apso can appear shiny and groomed, the undercoat can be difficult to maintain.

“The groomer was left with no option but to take the hair that short. Cutting a dog’s hair down to that level means it is easier to maintain and groom. Now the dog’s hair is smart and suitable for summer.

“Hopefully this situation will be resolved between the parlour owner and the dog owner.”

The spokeswoman emphasised the importance for owners to maintain their dog’s coat, both as a method of bonding but also for ensuring they are carrying out regular health checks on their pet.

“Every dog needs to be groomed,” she added.

“A matted coat is trouble for a dog... we have seen a case in the past where a dog owner was taken to court—their Lhasa Apso had not been groomed for a year and when the vet examined the dog its leg fell off because the matted hair had cut off the blood supply.”

Nothing really surprising in the meat of the story, the woman was clearly negligent and a bit of a nutter, but it's the last quote that really gets me. The SSPCA is telling us that if we don't groom our pets properly bits of them might spontaneously fall off! I don't want to be overly suspicious but I am left wondering if perhaps the vet was examining the poor animal with some sort of sharp instrument when this happened, a chainsaw perhaps. If this is true though I worry for all my beardy friends out there. Be sure and groom your facewarmer properly kids or you might wake up one morning without a head!

Being Scottish is...

A two-up two-down, two point five and a dish on the roof for the soaps!

So after months of pain and misery I'm finally able to blog from the new home of Rosa, Guinness and I. It's not been an easy ride what with the Scotlands abysmal house-buying rules, the credit crunch and the seller of our flat who I will henceforth refer to as Mad Bitch but we've made it. I've already ranted about the Scottish system and I'm sure we're all aware of current worldwide financial problems but I've kept quiet about Mad Bitch just in case she stumbled across this blog before contracts were swapped and decided to do something to fuck the deal up.

We first saw the flat in early March when we were shown around by what seemed a perfectly nice lassie with a rather cute black cat and a partner who though my t-shirt was cool, clearly a man of taste. We were rather taken by it what with it's massive living room, good-sized bathroom, kitchen that two or three could cook in and a view of where we got married but decided to have a think then get back to them. In between we had a rather fantastic visit to Rosa's auld dears in Portugal and when we cam back we put in an offer which, after a small amount of haggling, was accepted so we merrily went along and arranged for a survey. Now at this point we had to decide what level of survey to go for. You get three levels to choose from; a basic valuation, a proper survey and an incredibly close look at every facet of the building by a highly qualified team of surveyors who got accused of a crime they never committed whilst serving in 'Nam, escaped from a high security stockade and now live in the Los Angeles underground. As George Peppard has cacked it we went for the second option and got some interesting results back.

Whilst the flat was basically worth what we offered there were some worries about damp coming through a couple of the walls and resulting damage to flooring so a timber specialist would have to called in for a wee nosey. Not a problem we answered, best to keep things on the up & up and find out where a'body stands likesay. Henceforth a timber specialist was called in by our people, at no extra charge which was nice, and a date for his inspection agreed, clearly this was going to be an easy straightforward deal. Little did we know.

One of the problems Rosa and I have had with buying a flat has been our availability during the working day. We both work in environments that make it difficult to contact us which made everything quite a lot harder. Poor Rosa ended up having to deal directly with the majority of what follows which was bad mainly because it was hassle she didn't need but also because I'm more of an arsehole who will just say no than she is. Anyway on the day of the inspection we our solicitors contact us to say that whilst the timber specialist was allowed access to the flat the owner had moved here suite over the area he needed to inspect and now refused to move it again to give him access. Now I know what it's like to get you living room just so and mibbee moving the suite might have fucked up her feng shui or something but surely she wanted to sell us the flat. Evidently not.

As discussions went on we discovered that Mad Bitch was moving to England with tasteful in t-shirts lad and really needed to sell her flat but she clearly wasn't that desperate. Her rather embarrassed solicitors had a wee chat with her and she agreed to have the timber specialist have a look. Of course when we start getting to the nitty gritty she starts talking about making the specialist sign forms saying he'll pay for any damage she claims is done and taking photies throughout the process which our very professional tradesman says is not going to happen of course. Finally her solicitors talk to her again and we can get our man in two weeks later. To make things perfect she's in Switzerland during this period so she can't hassle the poor bloke who still isn't getting paid for all this crap.

So finally we get the timber specialist in, he has a good look and we gt our report. Turns out that there is some urgent work needing done to our floor joists and walls and this will cost two grand plus. As this is structural stuff the value of the property also falls by that much meaning we'll have to pay the difference ourselves. We revise our offer to account for this saying that we'll give her the full amount if she pays for the work. Mad Bitch replies saying that she'll go halfies, this doesn't mean she'll pay half the work it means she wants us to give her up to £1500 just because she wants it. Much wrangling with her very embarrassed solicitors ensues and she finally agrees to the lower price so a'hing's set and we can get the mortgage together and move in!

Not quite.

During this period the credit crunch has really set in so when we apply for our perfect mortgage they say yes but offer us a sum that falls a couple of grand short of what we asked for. This isn't a major catastrophe, we just have to go to our second choice who offered us sixty grand more than we wanted, but does cost us a few days. Mad Bitches reaction is, to her solicitors extreme embarrassment, to put the flat back on the market which is irritating to say the least but since she legally has to tell everybody about the work needing done we figured we'd have breathing space.

Anyway finally the money comes through, the documents are ready and we're poised to move in and suddenly Mad Bitch says that since the flat will be worth the initial survey price once the works done can she have the full price please? She actually goes to the extent of having her solicitors contact the timber specialist and ask if he'll give a guarantee that the work would raise the value of the flat to what she wanted, apparently they came across as very very embarrassed. Given that this is the equivalent of asking for an extra twenty grand because we might build an extension in the next five years we told her poor solicitors where to go and finally the Mad Bitch relented and we became home owners.

It's been bloody horrible but sitting here with Guinness laid across the rug and watching kids play in the park where I married my daft, lolloping Kiwi it's completely worth it. It's our space and it's the kind of space we both wanted when we started this stupidity. I love it.