The latest topical insights from Aberdeen musical sketch comedy team, The Flying Pigs, written by Andrew Brebner and Simon Fogiel.
Tanya Souter, lifestyle guru
I da ken about youse, but I wisnae happy tae hear that food prices is noo the maist expensive they’ve been for 45 year. And nae jist yer funcy stuff like olive ile, taramasalata and fruit – it’s yer dietary essentials an a’: hings like eggs, breed and Monster Munch.
It’s jist unasseptable ‘at, is it? Especially fan folk are a’ready struggling tae mak ends meet. Noo, dinna get me wrang, I’m nae starving; I am een o’ the lucky eens. But nae ab’dy has the advantages fit I hiv – nimble-fingered kids in coats wi’ big pooches fa can ootrun Aldi’s security.
Things is tough food-wise – they’re nae even letting’ Greggs open 24 hours in London’s West End cos o’ police fears o’ a wave o’ crime and disorder. They’ve nae thought ‘at through, though.
Fan they get tae the “baked goods” stage o’ the evening, yer average bampot his calmed doon fae ony earlier alcohol-related troublemaking, ken? By the time I get tae Thain’s on George Street, I’ve barely the energy tae chaw my macaroni pie afore haein a kip in a hedge.
But, if ye wint mair proof that the powers that be are oot o’ touch, jist look at the official dish for the coronation. A spinach, broad bean and tarragon quiche! Or, as it should be pronounced: “keech”.
I tell ye, I winna be makin’ een, and nae jist because buying a’ the ingredients wid cost ye mair than a new telly. I’m nae able tae eat it because of my specific dietary requirements. I’m “bowff intolerant”. Onything wi’ spinach in it gings straight in the bin in my hoose, so this thing widnae get fridge space. Jist looking at the state o’ it gie’s me the boak, like an aipple pie fit’s been left in a portaloo.
The good news is that it’s relatively easy tae mak unsuitable dishes accessible tae ab’dy by simply swapping oot a few ingredients and replacing them wi’ mair appropriate alternatives. For instance, in this case, I’m gaan tae replace the eggs, spinach, broad beans and tarragon for cheesy pasta and mak a mahoosive coronation macaroni pie.
Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who’s always appealing
It takes a lot to shock someone who has been around the clock as many times as Old Kenny has been, but some of the ongoings-on in the world of sport this week has been real turnips for the books.
Saturday seen a highlight of the horse-racing calendar in the Cordiner household. The Grand National is the only day in the year when my Melody doesn’t roll her eyes at me going into the bookies to put a line on. This year’s race was delayed when some protestants louped the fence and tried to glue theirselves to one of the jumps – because they think the race is too dangerous for the cuddies.
If VAR had been around back then, I don’t know how many times I’d have got sent off, but I reckon it would have been six or seven times a match
It’s a funny way to make a protest, if you ask me. If the fences is already dangerous for the horses to jump over, surely adding in some plonkers in pink T-shirts would only make it worser?
But, if it’s funny ways to make a protest you’re needing, look no further than Just Stop Oil, who interrupted the snooker when some gadgie climbed up on the table and covered it in orange powder. The Crucible hadn’t seen anything like it since the time Big Bill Werbeniuk had a family bag of Wotsits during the 1983 quarter final. The snooker boys couldn’t carry on with the match until all the powder had been hoovered up, because they couldn’t tell the difference between the yellow and red!
Which brings me to matters closer to home. I am sick of VAR and referees having it in for good honest footballers making good honest tackles, like Graeme Shinnie against the Ross County lad last week.
Shinnie won the ball, the ref gave a throw-in, but then the VAR boys stuck their beady noses in and Shinnie got his marching powders. When I was playing the game, I made tackles like that all the time.
If VAR had been around back then, I don’t know how many times I’d have got sent off, but I reckon it would have been six or seven times a match. To add in salt to his injury, when the Dandies appealed the red, not only was it not overgrown, but Shinnie’s ban was extended and the suits called it “frivolous”.
When I seen that reported on Sky Sports, I just couldn’t understand it, ‘cause I didn’t not know what “frivolous” meant.
I shouted through to Melody, I shouted: “Melody, what’s ‘frivolous’ when it’s at home?” And she says: “It’s the little yellow tomato they put on your pudding in the Atholl.” Mental.
Conversation