Farty's Ecksmas Quiz 2011

Let's have an Ecksmas Quiz!

1. Easy one to start with. Name that choon.


2. Pick the odd one out.
a) The Great Scottish Haggis Hunt.
b) Loch Ness Monster sightings.
c) The Edinburgh Trams.
d) UFOs over Bonnybridge.

Sorry, I got distracted by shiny. Continuing...

3. What famous quote from Independence Day was appropriated by Disney's Tangled? (Clue: You won't find it in IMDB, I just checked.)

4. At what age is it appropriate to ask someone if they still believe in Jesus?

5. What nationality is Andy Murray...
(a) When he wins?
(b) When he loses?

6. What is wrong with this picture? (click to embiggen)
Proving Atheists Wrong With Science #1

7. Better question: What's right with it?

To be continued. Maybe.

Pentland Walk

I went for a walk up the Pentlands last week, near Torphin golf course. The next day it went on fire. Wasn't me.

If this thing works, you should see a slideshow of my walk. If not, try this link.

World Trade Centre to Relocate to Scotland

Under ambitious new plans announced to the press today, a new World Trade Centre is to be built in the heart of Bonnie Scotchland. The noo.

The World Trade Centre Association (WTCA) has granted Embra toon cooncil a licence to waste even more money on top of what's already been squandered on the Parliament building and the fecking trams. The cooncil believes the site close to both Embra airport and the global HQ of RBS is an ideal target for terrorists.

Cooncillor Shuggy McNumpty declared that the original licence was to catch crabs in the Water of Leith, but with the aid of a crayon this had been amended to grant full permission to build a bothy close to the site of the Royal Highland Show.

Artist's Impression

It is hoped that the new WTC would rival Great Britain's only other site in Hull.

Ownership of the licence would be reassigned just as soon as someone mental enough to think this plan might work can be found, although last night Donald Trump was unavailable for comment.

Grampa

I don't really remember Granny Ethel, except that at one point she was alive and at another, Grampa lived alone. There must have been a funeral and such, but either I wasn't invited or it's all blurred into insignificance.

Most of my memories of Grampa come in drips and draps, but what I do remember clearly is that whenever we visited him out in the colonies, Grampa always served us kids lime cordial and soda water from an old glass siphon as a special treat. It tasted terribly bitter but it made us feel very privileged to be waited upon like that, so we always drank it all up. I don't recall if we were ever allowed to operate the trigger on the siphon ourselves, but somehow I doubt it.

Grampa had red hair, combed back from his forehead - which, now I come to think of it, is how I wear mine, including the ever-increasing bald patch, but so far free of liver spots. I think I have Grampa to thank for my little-remaining-hair-not-turning-grey genes.

Of course the one, truly lasting memory was of the fucking enormous tigerskin rug sprawled across the floorboards in his living room. It had a fearsome snarl permanently frozen on its face, and its staring glass eyes had us absolutely terrified. Grampa would smile and pat it on the head reassuringly, but I was too scared of those long, sharp teeth.

If there were any bullet holes in it, you'd think I'd remember that, right? Nope. I guess he must have strangled it to death with his bare hands then. Grampas are awesome like that.

I'm reminded of Grampa every time I look at my mouse mat, for some reason.

Another Highland Wedding

So if you've been following me on Twitter - and if not, why not? - you'll know that I've been up to Grantown-on-Spey for a wedding at the weekend. A jolly good time was had by all, although I didn't get to take quite as many photos as last year. And somehow totally failed to get a single one of my grand-daughter, despite her being a flower girl, le sigh.

The bride, groom and some parents at Abernethy Church. Now I want a biscuit.

Flower girls always look lovely, don't you think? Even when they're up to mischief.

Cutting the cake. Mmmm, cake. This one was baked by the groom's gran (see top photo) and cost over £200 to make, most of which went on booze. Must remember to ask for the recipe.

There's no point trying to get them to pose, so why not do the opposite and catch them in their natural state?

We're married now and there's nothing you can do about it!

I think she's just spotted the car. Ooer.

Already planning her own wedding. It'll be a blast!

Shit My Dad Said

Some time ago.

Dad worked on the top floor of a four-storey telephone exchange. There were no lifts (elevators), but the exercise he got from climbing the stairs every morning was still preferable to the drenching he'd regularly received while fixing junction boxes in the streets of Edinburgh.

Be that as it may.

One day, a uniformed police officer turned up by his desk, puffing and wheezing.

"Good day, my good man," or words to that effect, said the filth. "Would that be your car parked on the pavement downstairs, only it's causing an obstruction?"

"Would that be the silver Bentley?" asked Dad innocuously. Dad never drove in his life.

"Ah, no sir," replied the pig. "It's a blue Ford Escort. Sorry to have disturbed you."

And off he went.

Five minutes later, with much pounding on the stairs, the rozzer was back, gasping for breath this time. "Sir! Sir! There's no silver Bentley down there!"

"Oh, my God, it's been stolen!" Sharp as a pin, was Dad.

So then he made poor PC Plod go back down again, have another look to make sure, come back up and prepare to take a statement before declaring, "Ah, wait, the wife said she would be taking it today to fetch the shopping."

He would have loved Robin Cooper.

If you're not into baby photos just move along. kthxbai

Some pictures from Princess Farty's Christening on Sunday in Edinburgh's Canongate Kirk. Where the Queen goes for her churchery when she's in toon, ye ken. Tres posh.

Gran & Grandad
Proud parents
A wee hug from a cousin

Just saw the sun on this clock and took a photo. The light is over the door of the pub where we celebrated afterwards.

Royal Mile

A Scottish Wedding

So. Yeah. I was asked to be the official photographer at a wedding in Dornoch this year. Cool, huh? See what you think. Click to embiggen etc.

The Oldest Face in Scotchland

Scienticians recently unearthed what is described as The Oldest Face in Scotchland.

The 5000-year-old stone carving was found in Orkney, which is that bunch of islands up at the top of Scotchland. Somebody must have had really sharp eyes to spot it: it's fooking tiny.

It went on display in Embra Castle and loads of people paid a fortune to come and see it. They could have saved themselves the trouble - you can see Ming Campbell at his Fife constituency any time you like (except when he's fiddling his expenses in London). He's richt auld. Heh.

Oldest Face

Ming Campbell

Anyway, it's gone on tour with Rod Stewart or something. More details here.

The Gathering

I like it - apart from the weather.

That one sentence about sums up the visitor experience of Scotchland in general and Embra in particular.

This weekend, clan leaders from all four corners of the globe [Globes don't have corners - Ed.] will meet for the biggest brawl gathering in recorded history. The locals have already started boarding up their windows in preparation.

Bring it on.

Cramond

So today I grabbed my camera and trotted off down to Cramond to get some photos to keep you from gnawing your own fingers off with boredom. Click any photo to enlarge.

It says here that Cramond was once the site of a Roman Fort. Who knew?


Yup. Here's some Roman ruins, so it must be true.


Legend has it that the Romans brought stinging nettles to Britain with them, so that they could flagellate themselves with them to keep warm. I kid you not.


Although why they didn't just whap themselves with our own native thistles beats me. Beats. Heh.


Any road up. Cramond. Popular for the boats and that.


Not to mention Cramond Island.


There's a causeway connecting Cramond Island to the mainland, but it's a good idea to check the tidal tables before venturing out.


Ah, well, maybe another time. Oh, look! A pretty boat!


I love watching the sun reflect off the water. Very relaxing.


Another boat. This one doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Still, it's quite pretty with the trees in the background and that.


Bye then, Cramond. Shlater!


I could totally get a job with the Scotch tourist board.

Scotch News

So what's in the news today, I hear you ask. (I'm sure there should be a question mark in there somewhere, but can't for the life of me figure out where to put it. Colour me senile.)

The one millionth word to enter the English language is, by an amazing coincidence, Web 2.0 - er, that's not really a word, is it? It's a word plus a number. And even the number is unnecessarily specified to a higher degree of precision than is really warranted. Why not Web 2.00000? I would have picked lolcat. How about you?


There's a Global Pandemic of Swine Flu stories in the meeja. Yes, you know and I know that a pandemic is by definition global, just like Avian Bird Flu affects avian birds, but they still go ahead and use redundant tautologies. Stupid journalists. Oh! There I go doing it myself! Anyway, lock all the doors and windows, tape them up and don't come out until 2013 just in case. Or until you run out of air or food, whatever.

Miss California USA's been fired. There used to be a Miss California Scotland, but we lost her in the fog.


With Armed Forces Day coming up on June 27, celebrations are being planned to give people the chance to thank the RAF, Army, Navy and that for all the hard work they do in fighting off Johnny Foreigner. Scotchland's own Lorraine Kelly was up at Embra's Redford Barracks to reveal her knickers the Scotch events lined up for the big day.


Well, if you're only visiting this blog for upskirt pictures of Lorraine Kelly, why should I disappoint? Did you notice the matching accessories?

I'm An Asshole

The clue, mes amis, is in the name.

I've got visitors coming and the place is a 'king mess. 'King hell, there's no time, I'll just sweep the worst of it under the carpet and hope they're too polite to mention it.

But first...

When is L smaller than M but bigger than XL? No cheating.

A recent autopsy on King Henry VIII showed that he had brain damage from a jousting fall, plus syphilis. Was he mad? Well, he wisnae very pleased.

Scotchland is on the brink of seceding from the union with Englandland, taking her cue from Texas. All hail 'King Mel!


How can you guarantee re-election without rigging the vote? Apparently you could do worse than dropping dead of a heart attack after rescuing your town from the great muskrat crisis of '08. I love you Merkans. So much blog fodder just sitting there...

My new motto: Any solution that depends on people not being lazy morons will never work. So true...

New government health and safety initiative: Children to be put to death "for their own good". That'll keep the pedos at bay. Except the necrophiliacs, I suppose. Feck, this blog is going to get a lot of hits for all the wrong reasons.

Coming soon: Farty's Fuckit List. Are you on tenterhooks yet?


How about now?

A Brief History of Scotchland - Part 7

'Twas in the year 1689 that the Mobile City of Dundee launched a furious, but ultimately abortive attack on the scourge of Scotchland, Janette and Ian Tough. This epic pub brawl went down in the annals of history as the Battle to Kill The Krankies.


A couple of early casualties in the meleé were the Earl a' Murraymints and his beautiful wife, the Lady Mondegreen, who fought and ultimately died side by side just a century beforehand and a hundred miles to the north. Or south. What do you want, accuracy? Sheesh. That's what Uncyclopedia's for.


Only one intrepid Scotchman escaped the battle unscathed. Mr Donald MacBean of Auchtershoogle was out walking his pet haggis, Shuggy, when he heard the rumble of the approaching city. Without a moment's hesitation, he lifted up his wooden kilt, yelled, "I fart in your general direction!" and let loose an almighty blast.



The force of the resulting eruption, thought to be fuelled by mashed neeps (turnips), propelled Mr MacBean clear across the river Garry to safety. Shuggy's fate is not recorded.



Sadly, although Dundee won the match 5-0, The Krankies lived to fight another day and can still be heard murdering the Scotch language at Christmas pantomimes and TV specials (rates negotiable).

Any resemblance of the above tale to historical accuracy is purely coincidental.