Spatchcock!

I've just realised it's been a week since I last posted. Things have been a bit hectic and to be honest and I haven't had the energy to post anything of any substance.

Over at Seven Days, things are winding down to an end on the 27th of November. A full year of photographs, mainly taken in and around Glasgow, interspersed with odd trips to strange new worlds, have been posted on a daily basis. I'm in the process of making the tags clearer to allow navigation of the blog. I'm also adding little bits of annotation to the site to augment the visuals.

Next, as most of you will be aware, I like to swear my little fucking head off on this here blog. Most therapeutic it is too. Clairwil brings to our attention the absurd notion of being taken to task for uttering the odd profanity. On one's own blog!

Apologies to Clairwil if I'm covering the same ground as she did, but I just found the whole thing so deeply amusing. I'll admit that the Devils Kitchen, like Pickled Politics, is one of those places I don't lurk about in, mainly because I'd end up saying something I'd regret or making a total tit of myself. I'm fine if I'm sober, but a few drinks and a shit day behind me and I come perilously close to the sort of belligerence that would make Terry Kelly blush. I find it best if I stick to subjects that no-one really gives a fuck about.

Anyway, it just amuses me the way political bloggers, a generally confrontational and forthright bunch of fellows, can get so touchy when it comes to 'unparliamentary language'. Some of the naughty words on DK seem to be swearing for the sake of it (What better reason can there be?) , though often there seems to be a genuine rage behind it. Been there and done it. Sometimes calling someone the most appalling thing you can imagine is all that stands between you and eating the nearest piece of furniture. If DK is reading this, he's free to come over and use whatever language he wants here. ;D

In all honesty, I could do with a mother hen type to disapprove of my reckless language. Sometimes when I go to my tracker, I see the things people have been entering on Google and they make my hair stand on end, simply because of a preponderance of four letter words on my blog.

Lastly, three cheers for Glasgow and it's successful bid to host the 2014 Shit Olympics.

Sorry, that's the Commonwealth Games................

I shouldn't be so snide. The total cost of hosting the games in Glasgow looks to be less than what London are spending on their main Olympic arena. The infrastructure is all there and it looks like Glasgow's East End is going to get a much needed boost out of it. Hopefully.

Of course, a few of our southern chums are smugly reminding us that we're a bunch of 'Scrounging Jocks' and that they, personally, will be paying for this folly via their tax money. Sadly, this isn't entirely true, as most of the funds will come from money raised by the Scottish Government*. I can't help feeling deprived of the chance to watch the Kelvin McKenzies of this world turn purple as we spend their pennies on Velodromes and Swimming Pools and other such frivolities.

I really do feel a sense of loss in that regard................

Ok, I should be back on Friday, God willing...................

*Yes Yes, I do realise Westminster subsidised our parliament and our little dry run at self government. It's very nice, cheers!

Reading through the BBC 'Have Your Say' link, it's plain that there are as many, if not more English people who are happy enough about the Commonwealth Games coming to Scotland than those who want to use it as an excuse for a bit of Jock Bashing.