The latest topical insight from Aberdeen musical sketch comedy team, The Flying Pigs.
Tanya Souter, lifestyle correspondent
I da ken aboot youse, but I am real excited that Aiberdeen’s been drapped doon tae Level 1. Course, jist fan we’re allowed tae visit each ither indoors again, it’s been ‘at het naeb’dy wints til.
Fit a sun ‘is wik, eh? I ken some folk that ging for walks or dae gairdening fan it’s sunny, but ‘at’s just mintil, is it? I celebrate the arrival o’ fine weather by plonking my bahookie on my foldy chair oot the backie and nae moving till I reach the specific shade o’ reed fit I cry “angry tomato”.
But getting doon tae Level 1 is a big deal, even though it’s nae the lowest, there’s still Level 0 aneth ‘at, and even then there’s still some restrictions. It might be Level 0, but it’s nae nithin.
The new rules means that eight adults fae three different hooseholds can meet, inside, in a pub, wi booze, fit can stay open till 11 at nicht! It’s gan tae be like the last days o’ Pompeii doon Windmill Brae the nicht.
For the last year Big Sonya’s been running an illicit spikeasy saft play in her gairden, wi’ a builder’s chute and a skip full o’ polystyrene
But it’s nae a’ good news. Saft play cinters are allowed tae reopen which wanna please my pal Big Sonya.
For the last year she’s been running an illicit spikeasy saft play in her gairden, wi’ a builder’s chute and a skip full o’ polystyrene. This change is gaan tae pit her oot o’ business.
She canna compete wi’ places that offer a’ that extra facilities, like cafés, wifi and child safety.
Professor Hector Schlenk, senior researcher at the Bogton Institute for Public Engagement with Science
As a scientist, people are always asking me questions, like: “What is reality?”, “Do we have free will?” and “What can I get you?”
But this week they have been mostly asking me about space junk, as a small hole has appeared in a robotic arm on the International Space Station.
We think of outer space as a vast, serene emptiness, and for the majority of the last 14 billion years that has been the case. However, since 1957, we humans have rather made up for it, and there are now millions of tiny objects hurtling around in orbit, some as big as a car (I’m looking at you, Musk) others no bigger than an eyelash, but still able to break bulletproof glass when travelling at 10 times the speed of a cruise missile.
It is, of course, unsurprising, that we would allow millions of bits of debris to proliferate in orbit, when the average earth family are incapable of putting their rubbish in a bin three feet from a picnic table.
But this is a potentially serious problem. In one hypothesis, a chain of collisions in space could spiral out of control, eventually cloaking the earth in an impassable field of debris which would could take thousands of years to clear. Like an orbiting version of the contraflow at the Haudagain Roundabout.
Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who always fulfils his media obligations
With the Euros fast approaching, Old Kenny is on tinder hooks! After 23 years absinthe from a major tournament, I can’t wait to see the boys in blue get stuck in. And by that I mean the Scotland team. Not the police. Unless it’s on the England fans.
Even though he is a baldie, Scotland gaffer Stevie Clarke must have been tearing his hair out when midfield metro John Fleck tested positive for Codona’s virus. That ruled him and several of his team mates out of the friendly with Neverland. Still, the mic-shaft Scottish lineup managed to hold the Duchess to a 2-2 draw.
After the game, Clarke was waxing clinical about the lads in his press conference. But over in Paris, at Roland Stavros, there was one player who controverbially wasn’t up for meeting the boys from the Frothy State.
Tennis star Naomi Osaka says she gets the hump when the journos ask questions about how come she was so rubbish whenever she loses a match, so she decided she wasn’t going to do any more interviews.
The organisers said they might boot her out if she done that, because then the reporters would end up packed in a little room with no windows asking a bottle of mineral water: “How do you feel?”
So she called their fluff and quit. Melody says to me, she says: “I bet there’s no ‘love’ lost there, eh Kenny?” and did, like, two rabbits with her fingers.
“Put that in your column,” she says. I done that, even though I don’t not know what she’s on about.
