Déjà vu

Mini Me?

© Noddy

Published by Toy Town™ Times

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

Still top!

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Diet pehs?

She who must be obeyed would be in a quandary today if she was in the least bit interested in the beautiful game.

Born in Pompey and brought up in Dingwall it would be churlish of me to suggest that whilst I hope to be celebrating a double, she will probably be doubly disappointed.

Meanwhile the Beeb has clearly found the burning issue to report regarding the Scottish FA Cup Final.

Low Fat pehs? I think the Beeb are missing the point!

Anyway, c'mon the Stags and Lions.

Update - The OH would be bereft, but then she doesn't even know there is an offside rule.

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

There's more....

© Noddy

Published by Toy Town™ Times

Simples

I have officially overdosed on re-runs of the massacre at the Bridge and am now able to post my delight!

103 goals this season - record,
71 goals difference - record,
Didier Drogba - Golden Boot,
Peter Cech - Golden Glove,

....... but what really matters......














Now for the double.

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Guess who's a happy easter bunny?

Cracking!

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Getting Shirty

Diversity issue or good old fashioned teasing?

Anyone on the end of constant references to 1966 will be all too happy to see these items sell like hot cakes now!

Jimmy Hill you are a..... ooops can't sing that any more either, but then WE won't even be there, so who has the last laugh?

© Mr Plod
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Crisis? What Crisis?

Just a week ago, doom and gloom had apparently struck the Bridge.

Well that's Ancelotti's Aces top again and for a wee while too as the Internationals sort themselves out.

Should give Fergie time to cool off.

Now playing: Supertramp - Easy Does It
via FoxyTunes

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

9.9.9.

Big night ahead and guess who is late shift?

Nuff said.

© Mr Plod
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Toytown Tartanistas

Apparently Richard Littlejohn (sic) doesn't agree with the tone of my previous post.

I quote from the Daily Wail (with comments from me appended thus);

"Gordon Brown's yellow streak is the width of the Yangtze river

Two years ago, almost to the day, a sheep sneezed in Scotland. Twenty minutes later, Gordon Brown was on every television channel in full Commander-in-Chief mode.

He was going to be tough on sheep and tough on the causes of sheep (Gadget's got that in hand). We could sleep soundly in our beds.

The next day, it rained. Pausing only to discard his knotted hanky and off-duty Harris Tweed beach jacket, Gordon helicoptered back to London to convene an emergency meeting of Cobra in a bunker deep under Downing Street. Holidays are for wimps.

And lo, it came to pass, the flood waters subsided. Not since Moses had there been a more crucial intervention.

The BBC and the boys in the bubble went wild, hurling their knickers on stage. How lucky we were to be led by a man of such towering, Churchillian greatness.

No more lies, no more evasion, no more spin, no more stunts. Just firm, decisive action. Not Flash, just Gordon.

In those heady days of summer 2007, no crisis was too small to warrant the personal attention of the new Prime Minister.

If you'd found a spider in your bath, one phone call to Downing Street and Gordon would be there with his big clunking fist, Sky News crew in hot pursuit.

Two years on and it's a different story. The father of the nation has done his trademark disappearing act.

While the civilised (?) world recoils in disgust from the early release of the only man convicted of the worst ever terrorist atrocity on British soil, Gordon is nowhere to be found.

As Toytown Tartanistas strut the stage, the Prime Minister is hiding behind the sofa.

The man who wrote a letter of condolence after John Terry missed a penalty (Now, you really are winding me up), and found the time to ring Piers Morgan to inquire about the mental health of a contestant on a television freak show, apparently has no opinion whatsoever on the greatest single rift between Britain and the United States of America since the Boston Tea Party. (Being a tad late showing up for WW1 and WW2 might rank a wee bit higher).

His new best friend, President Obama, is spitting feathers. He has interrupted his own vacation on Martha's Vineyard to condemn this outrageous affront to justice.

But the man ultimately responsible for this humiliating debacle is remaining resolutely schtum.

We used to have a labrador who behaved like Gordon. Whenever he broke wind, he'd look away in the misguided belief that if he couldn't see you, you couldn't see him and the source of the foul smell enveloping the living room would remain a mystery.

Be in no doubt that despite his desperation to pass the buck, Gordon Brown is up to his neck in the decision to release the Lockerbie bomber.

Six weeks ago, he wrote a 'Dear Muammar' letter to the Libyan leader asking him not to make a song and dance about the homecoming of Abdelbaset Ali Mohamed Al Megrahi and wishing him a Happy Ramadan.

Gordon was perfectly well aware that the falafel was about to hit the fan. Megrahi's release had formed an integral part of every recent trade and diplomatic negotiation with Gaddafi.

Little Alex Salmond may be basking in vainglorious mischief, but the daisy chain of duplicity and deceit leads right back to Downing Street and the treacherous triumvirate of Brown, Blair and Mandelson.

Salmond is a bit-part player in this dark farce, the political equivalent of Ally MacLeod, the football manager who led Scotland to hilarious ignominy in the 1978 World Cup. (At least we were there!)

Six weeks ago, Gordon Brown wrote to Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi asking for a low-key response to Megrahi's homecoming.

When I watched the Saltire being waved alongside the Libyan flag as Megrahi arrived back on home soil, I was reminded of the victory parade MacLeod staged in front of 25,000 delirious fans at Hampden Park before his squad had even boarded the plane to Argentina:

We're on the road with Alex's army, We're all going to Tripoli!

In the event, Scotland were stuffed by Peru, just as Salmond has been kippered by Libya, whatever he might kid himself.

The subplots swirling around this squalid affair, such as whether or not Megrahi is actually guilty, are all academic.

Of course he wasn't the mastermind, any more than the bloke who bought the rucksacks for the London Transport bombers was their Mr Big. But he was convicted in a British court of law (Wrong again - Scottish Court under Scots Law sitting in Holland) and, cancer or no cancer, letting him out after eight years is, as Mandelson would say, 'offensive' to those who died and their families.

None of this is of any consequence to the main actors in this demeaning, disgusting drama. They live in their own squalid soap opera, while the rest of us can for now only either watch with horror or avert our eyes.

In their amoral universe, there is little difference between theatrically letting Jade Goody's boyfriend out of prison for his stag night and freeing a convicted terrorist involved in the murder of 270 innocent civilians.

It's all a game to these cynics. Surely, say the sophisticates, Gordon wouldn't have gone along with this simply because he thought it would damage the SNP at the next General Election.

That's precisely why he would have gone along with it. Every decision he ever takes is predicated upon what it can do for him personally and how much damage it will inflict on his political opponents. And to hell with the consequences.

Despite the preening world statesman posturing, Gordon is as much of a petty, point-scoring, partisan pygmy as the puffed-up playground posers in the SNP. (An abundance of aimless and absurd alliteration).

His stony silence is almost eloquent, serving both to insult our intelligence and remind us of the yellow streak the width of the Yangtze which passes for his backbone.

Imagine how this looks from the American end of the kaleidoscope. They had asked for Megrahi to be tried in Scotland because they believed in British (?) justice. Now they've discovered what a sick joke modern British justice (Scots Law is ancient - muppet) really is.

And consider what our front-line soldiers, many from Scottish regiments and sent to risk their lives fighting terrorism alongside the Americans in Afghanistan, must make of this shameful decision to show 'compassion' to a man convicted of this country's worst-ever terrorist attack.

Makes you proud to be British."

Want my opinion Dick?

Hate is an inevitably unrewarding state of mind......

....and frankly the decision based purely on OUR law, and not transitory but understandable feelings, made me proud to be Scottish.

p.s.

He missed out on mentioning, during his bizarre anti everything Scottish rant, the 6th greatest goal of all time.

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Facebook is racist

Vaguely nationalistic Scottish users of Facebook have long been annoyed that there is no location option for Scottish towns and cities to be identified as in Scotland rather than the United Kingdom.

Unionists will have been OK with that, but Facebook have caused a right stooshie in God's own country as now any Scottish (and I'm led to believe Welsh) city or town is now listed as being in England.

Our American cousins often mistakenly call Great Britain, England, so it is to be expected.......

......... or has Gordon Broon (far are ye fae loon?) sold us off to the south to pay for Westminster's bathplugs and swimming pool repairs?

© MacNoddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Poor Pieman

Only a Dundonian could complain aboot the cost of pehs.

© MacNoddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Predictable

This was inevitable!

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Taxi for Tevez

I wish I had been the one to stop this motor! 

What a dummy.

Nice pic over at the Sun of Car Loss Tevez.  Geddit?

© Mr Plod
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Jox Vox - Vol. 2

My winter festival celebrations start.... now!

Thanks to UHDD for the pic by the way. I wonder if this place would have looked the same?

Since Xmas Eve I have been carrying out duties as what might be described as a Custody Corporal and there has been one common theme transcending most of the 'customers', a theme it will take you hopefully less than a goldfish's memory span to deduce, but here's a clue....

As can be surmised from the www address of my site, I like my whisky and beer, but for some unknown reason, I do not end up fighting, spitting, caterwauling etc. after a few refreshments. It is my opinion that excess drink can, I say CAN, bring out the worst in folk, but I firmly believe the spark of evil must already be there to be lit, burst into flame and envelop all around in its incandescence.

I have been known to 'binge' drink, but somehow I always make it home safely and don't end up squaring up to folk or thrashing her that has to be obeyed on my return home.

It seems some folk are just disposed to violence and anti-social behaviour and drink is not an excuse for their behaviour, merely a catalyst.

This hogmanay our SMT described the city centre celebrations as a success with few arrests. They are right. The absolute vast majority of the considerable throngs enjoyed themselves without incident. It was the few that failed to heed the equally considerable tolerance of my colleagues, with warnings about extended stays in the suites we provide abounding given that our Sheriffs like their time off (although to be fair the Courts sat last Saturday and will sit tomorrow), that passed through my door mostly, as I said before, horizontally. They were quite simply the dregs. How often and how simply do the Polis have to explain to these vacuous eejits how to be civilised?

I can assure the SMT that down in my little world it was not quiet, but I can accept, having seen the state of the folk in the custody suite that these were the folk that no-one can mitigate against.

DRINK DRIVING?

Added to those were the other clowns (or I could put it more succinctly - potential killers) who, despite warning after warning and campaign after campaign, arrived after blowing positive roadside breathtests. I have no sympathy for them either and I hope their bans are extended and fines increased to show how ignorant and inconsiderate they are particularly at this time of year.

Anyhoo, must stop moaning.

Back to the news from Alba.

Down in the Central Belt there's folk who obviously haven't been to Torry.

In the wonderful world of disputes over nothing, this one takes 2008's special prize. At least his sentence was long enough so that he didn't 'get off' with community service.

Here's a festive turn suited to the Special Branch.

If you ever visit the Gordon Highlander's Museum be sure to give the cafe staff a nice tip. That made me proud of my country folk.

This didn't ... In the Polis we are regularly faced with violence. Unwarranted as it is, we at least have some protection. These folk don't and the level of violence shown to them is a disgrace.

There has to be one festive entry regarding political correctness gone mad and this is it.

Having trawled the news for snippets for you to savour, it's back to drink again! I'm told it's a national pastime.

Drunk driver or driven to drink?

Polis spoilsports?

I posted about this and this a while back and I am delighted with the common sense result. However, there may be problems with other names that have been suggested for some of Scotland's brews.

Mind you there's folk down south who don't even need a drink to make a tit of themselves.

The Value of a Drink

"Sometimes when I reflect back on all the wine I drink I feel shame. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the vineyards and all of their hopes and dreams . If I didn't drink this wine, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, "It is better that I drink this wine and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver."

~ Jack Handy

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your bra and panties.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day. "

~ Frank Sinatra

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading."

~ Henny Youngman

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case. Coincidence? I think not."

~ Stephen Wright

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to think you can sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all get drunk and go to heaven!"

~ Brian O'Rourke

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause pregnancy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."

~ Benjamin Franklin

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like a retard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."

~ Dave Barry

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To some it's a six-pack, to me it's a Support Group. Salvation in a can!

~ Dave Howell

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And saving the best for last, as explained by Cliff Clavin, of Cheers.

One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm. Here's how it went:

"Well ya see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

Slainte.

© McNoddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Meanwhile across the Pond

.... and you thought it was just a British disease.

It seems the Polis worldwide are total meanies.

© Mr Plod
Published by Toy Town™ Times

In the Summertime

I'm back from my gallivanting and can I be the first to say "Ha Ha Mourinho."

The weather has been mixed (that's Doric for shite), but for a change it appears those southwards have not been overly blessed with sunshine. Being a typical Scot me and the sunshine don't exactly see eye to eye, inasmuch as mair freckles and red raw skin are nae my cup o' tea. However, a wee bit more rays would not have gone amiss.

Typically, I had to go to the end of the earth (well to she who has to be obeyed's family croft) to get the best weather!



Up in these parts the sheep are always happy.

So, what else has been happening since I was away. The youngest got all his Standard Grades (what used to be 'O' grades/levels) and all top grades too. I think back to his early days and his autistic spectrum 'problems' and this is nothing short of amazing. He deserved his large hug fae his Pa! (Somehow I think he will be looking for something more material though).

The eldest turns 21 today. It is time he was given the key to his own bleedin' door! (I'm joking loon!)

One thing I will say is that having spent a ridiculous amount of time behind some clown on the A9 who didn't read the bit in the Highway Code about CONSIDERATION FOR OTHER ROAD USERS, this is far overdue, even if it is being supported by another clown, who will be safe in the knowledge that his adored team will not be disgracing themselves in Europe. Well, off the pitch anyway!!!!

So what's been going on since I've been away in the hive of activity that is the Highlands?

Georgia beat Russia ............ in the quine's beach volleyball at the Olympix anyway. I know, I was transfixed by this event. I even found out from the commentary team that the 2 Georgians were Brazilians. I know the outfits were skimpy, but how did they know that? I've heard of drug testing, but rug testing....... I'll get my hiviz.

But, otherwise most of the news has been crap.

In pseudo DBA Dude booze review mode, I can report that, whilst away, I popped into a Teuchter Tesco (f.a.o. AnneDroid - anither 'een!) and found this smashing wee drop. I should have bought more 'cos it has yet to hit Tesco's shelves locally.

Back to work next week, so maybe something Polis related to follow, but mind, I have a life!

Listening to: Mungo Jerry - In The Summertime via FoxyTunes

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

In the blue, painted blue

It has been a while since I posted about the Blues. Well one does have to have a reasonable period of mourning.

Meanwhile, I have been brushing up on my Eurovision songs and have a wee inkling this fine tune may be heard down at the Bridge with a slight alteration come next season.

Personally he was my favourite choice to take the hot seat, so I'm fair chuffed. Now to set about getting Ronaldo to move not quite so far south as the media would have us believe he will be!

p.s. I am now backing Portugal for Euro 2008.

Listening to: Luciano Pavarotti - Volare
via FoxyTunes

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Cuddly teddy bears

Let's get a sense of perspective. 0.015% of travelling Huns got themsels lifted.

If you believe the varying reports, there were either 150000 or 200000 weegies in Manchester yesterday. If 30 or 42 or fitever were lifted fae volatile crowd situations far the cooncil had failed to show a match many had come to see, fit dae yi expect?

Seems the cooncil are blaming the Polis and the Polis are blaming the supporters and the Tories are blaming the Polis and the fans are blaming the Polis and the cooncil. Me, I jist think if 200000 weegies were partying a'taegither a' day onywire there's gonna be a wee stooshie. I div feel sorry for a' my GMP colleagues, especially the injured eens. Oh, aye, the ambulance staff en 'a.

But, let's get back to a sense of proportion. Read that stat again..... 0.015% eejits. Now we a' ken stats are the truth, the whole truth and naithin like the truth, min.

Given they were fae weegieland, this is naithin short o' a miracle, min. Disnae stop the hand wringing though. I know this loon and tak it fae me, he's a mannie fit opens his moo afore engaging his brain.

Last time that many Jox invaded Englandshire, there wis a wee bit mair bother!

... and jist to show yiv I dinna think a' weegies are eejits, just keek at RFC's response to the untimely death o' the Tims and Scotland legend Tommy Burns.

Nice one, Rangers.

Now I dinna say that aften!

© Mr Plod
Published by Toy Town™ Times

Hilarious

Well it looks like it will be third time lucky for the Blues after last night's result.

Speculation is rife as to the sort of headwear Cech will be wearing should he be fit for the ties against Liverpool.





Chelski players do have a fair stock of suitable items.











In my days as a Caman wielding nutter such attire would have been considered a wee bittie saft. As the lyrics in the video below state;

We don't play for fame,
We don't play for cash.
We just play for glory,
And the clash of the ash.



p.s. Oh, Bollox!

© Noddy
Published by Toy Town™ Times