Thursday, 28 June 2012

The Shame of Scotland's High Streets !

Promenading along the main shopping thoroughfare of the respectable cathedral city of Dunblane, I was horrified to discover this window display in full view of children and sensitive pensioners.

What sort of depraved individual would patronise such a den of iniquity ? I spoke to one young man who was attempting to shuffle out  unnoticed with his purchase in a plain brown wrapper. He claimed that he had only gone in for a mince round, and by the look of him I could well believe it !

Saturday, 23 June 2012

Reasons for posting on my blog N0 67

I'm totally, completely and utterly fed up.
So there.
Just thought I'd share that with you.

Monday, 18 June 2012

What an absolutely lovely day for a walk !

Yes it's our "Unlikely things to read on an outdoor blog in 2012" round.

Sunny, blue skies, fluffy white clouds, about 17degrees, just a hint of a breeze, and no distant haze.
Just wish I could have done it justice, but I did manage to stagger up into tbe Ochils for a few precious hours.

and another light goes out

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Goodbye Skateboarding Duck.

A typically witty piece  of ephemera from Richard Stilgoe, one of the less bland recipients of honours in today's list. His inclusion means that the list can trully be said to include "hoors and comic singers" to use a local expression.
Other names that spring out are Armando Iannucci - along with Peter Capaldi - a scion of the Scots Italian community which was so shamefully treated during WW2, and my near neighbour who is now "Sir" George Reid. That'll maybe cheer up the torn-faced wee sod.

Nothing for yours truly once again. I take this as good news, as it means that the medical people have told the Palace that I will probably survive until at least the New Year list.

Sunday, 10 June 2012

Half of what I say is meaningless

On Thursday I set off to walk  the old turnpike road along the Hillfoots to Tillicoultry. There's a fork in the path through the woods at the back of the graveyard. I knew my route went along the right-hand low-level path, but it was a nice day and the left hand, uphill path looked very inviting So, off I went. I just don't care, me.

As I expected, it took me up through Yellowcraig Woods, through the rhododendron tunnel, to the top of the crag

My intended route is along the bottom of the escarpment

I circled round the fringes of the Shirra Muir and looked for  orchids in the usual places. I didn't see any which is not to say there were none to see.

On Friday I set off to do the walk planned for the previous day. Taking the right-hand fork, I hadn''t gone 100 metres before I noticed this little fella right at the edge of the path. Aah

Put out more flags ?

Blairlogie village

Wildlife photography - piece o' piss ! Eat your heart out, Mark.

As a result of the recent lack of posting, our music clip warehouse is bulging at the seams, and, in order to make room for expected deliveries of new stock, we will be featuring some Multisave offers.
Fill your boots.

Monday, 4 June 2012

Ah yes, walking.

I have been doing some. Honest.
Nothing spectacular, and with mixed results, this weekend being a case in point.

Saturday I did one of my regular local jaunts - 6 miles/800 ft - no sweat. Actually, I was freezing..

The whin bushes on this stretch of road are just about over, but they started flowering in January !

Cast a clout ? I should coco. Bloody freezing

Got to breath in on this bit of the path !

Yesterday, as a loosener, I took the long way round to the shops and "hit the wall" after about a mile of walking on the level. Dead buggin' !!

However, the weekend was not a total write-off. I hate to hear a grown man sobbing so.....

There you go, Danny

Friday, 1 June 2012


I hear you ask, "is an old Trot like you doing to contribute to the outpouring of jollity and celebration that is currently engulfing the entire nation from Croydon all the way to Watford ?"

Fair question.

How about some jolly celebratory music for starters ?

And then a true (aren't they all ?) story ?

Once upon a time, I was walking round a building site in Maghull. It's where Myrrzeezide kinda morphs into rural Lancashire. My companion was a fearsome looking Scouser - shaven head and tattoos on his spit - of the Blue persuasion. On rounding a corner, we espied a guy from the Portaloo company connecting  up the hoses to pump the contents into a waiting tanker.
He was wearing a LFC top.

"Oi" shouts my companion, and the Portaloo guy did a rather superfluous double-take. "You" came the second shout, accompanied by a totally unambiguous pointing finger.

The poor shit-shifter was now obviously shitting himself and  apparently suitably set up for the coup de grace - delivered from close-up without a hint of a smile.

"You taking the piss ?"

There's no answer to that.