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 love ‘is time o’ year cos o’ its traditions. Decorating the tree, hinging up yer stocking, and lounging aboot in yer jammies eating Quality Street for breakfast. It’s a’ pairt and parcel o’ Christmas, but dae it at ony ither time and yer the spik o’ the street.
Alang wi’ the aul traditions, we can adopt some new eens an’ a’. Thanks tae the internet, we is able tae fin’ oot foo folks a’ ower the globe celebrate. And, in the spirit o’ peace, love and un’nerstanding, we can even embrace some o’ those customs. At’s how, this year, I’ll be daen Christmas dinner jist like they dae in Japan – wi’ a Deliveroo fae KFC.
Jock Alexander, rural news
It’s a festive wik in the village, though we’re nae quite up tae speed wi’ a’ things Christmas yet, seeing as we’ve only recently converted tae Christianity. We dinna hae “Elf on the Shelf”, for example, but those o’ us fa bring wir livestock in for the worst o’ the winter div hae the next best thing: “Mineer on the Fleer”.
Onywye, Christmas here in the village is that happy time o’ year fan the combination o’ sub-zero temperatures, gale force winds and twa oors o’ daylight means we hae a lock-in in the village pub. Nae on purpose, but Storm Pia his blawn the door shut and we canna get it open.
So, we’ve nae choice but tae keep wirsel’s entertained wi’ some Christmas parlour games. Skittery Willie has suggested een – working through the contents of the bar in alphabetical order.
I’m up tae Cointreau, fit is affa festive seeing as it’s like drinking a Terry’s Chocolate Orange, but Feel Moira’s jist feenished a bottle o’ Zywiec and is reaching for the Absinthe, so it’s gaan tae be a very merry Christmas! Cheerio!
J Fergus Lamont, arts correspondent
My Christmas wish must be for the return of a musical colossus whose work is synonymous with the season of goodwill. You may not have heard of them, as they have garnered little or no publicity, but I speak of the musical artiste “LadBaby”.
How I have thrilled to each successive release of a lightly reworked version of a previously extant composition, elevated to majesty by the deft, nay, graceful inclusion of a reference to meat of indeterminate origin, wrapped in pastry.
Thus, as metaphor, LadBaby’s oeuvre counterpoints the simple purity of song – nourishment for the spirits, with the queasy satisfaction of meeting the basest needs of the flesh. I go so far to say of their meisterwerk, “We Built This City… On Sausage Rolls” – “all humanity is there”.
I turned on my radiogram in the hopes of hearing their latest festive gem, only to learn the devastating news of their retirement. Followed by All I want for Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey. I wept.
Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who is on the naughty list
Christmas is coming, and so is the goose fat. Old Kenny is hoping that Sunty Claws brings a bit more predictamability to the world of sport, to help for those of us in the betting community.
Whilst we do get the odd home banker, like The Rangers beating the Dandies in last weekend’s cup final, we is getting far too many coupon busters for my liking.
For example, you would have needed a crusty ball to have predicted BBC Sports Personality of the Year going to Wyatt Earp!
These swerveball results is doing my nut. I’m on such a bad run. I seen the lassie that runs the payout window at my local bookies in Tesco’s on Tuesday, and I says to her, I says: “Hiyah, Shannon.” And she turns round and says to me, she says: “Sorry, do I know you?”
Jonathan M Lewis, local headteacher
As another Christmas rolls around, like all headteachers, I wish all in my school’s community a merry Christmas and, simultaneously, breathe a huge sigh of relief that there’s now a full year before the next time I have to hear O Come, All Ye Faithful sung by the whole school at our annual Christmas assembly.
I defy anyone to come up with a more delicate powder-keg situation than a school hall filled with teenagers who are about to sing about “the virgin’s womb”.
In fact, my biggest Christmas wish has already been granted. I’ve made it to the end of term without receiving a letter advising me of an impending visit from the inspectors. Praise be, hail Mary and, indeed, hallelujah!
Davinia Smythe-Barrett, ordinary mum
Like all ordinary mums, Christmas for me is bittersweet. Time to spend with family, Emmeline and Fidel. Of course, it’s also a time to think of those who cant be with us, such as my dear departed husband, Milo.
He departed for Belize again on Tuesday – as soon as he saw the news about the hike in the top rate of tax. It must be beastly for him, all alone out there, with only his personal masseuse for company, but he’s so brave about it.
On the brighter side, I’m so pleased that au pair Snezanna could stay with us this year. I’ve been most concerned that she would be affected by the culture of fear whipped up by the Tories’ ghastly rhetoric on immigration, and I was right – she wanted to go back to Bulgaria! But I just couldn’t bear to be without her. So, I hid her passport. Well, someone has to do Elf on the Shelf, don’t they?
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