Sitting In?

Given my comments on the Commercial Irritation rant earlier, it may seem a tad hypocritical of me to sample the 'experience' of going to Burger King on Friday evening. A fair point, I concede but given I finished work a bit later than expected and I was heading for a drinking session with fellow of the Hibernian persuasion, the prospect of consuming alcohol on an empty stomach was not one I wished to consider. So I opted for the quick and convenient option. Although those words soon disappeared when I headed to the counter to wait patiently for the spotty faced youth to serve me.

'Can I take your order?'

'I don't know - can you?'

She looked at me somewhat bemused. Given she was not from these shores and her use of grammar was not, perhaps, the best, I decided to help a little. Only a little, mind.

'I would like a cheeseburger and some chips please' I smiled.

'Do you want a meal?'

'I would like a cheeseburger and some chips please' I smiled again.

'Cheeseburger?'

'Yes, I do believe that was what I asked for -twice.'

'Regular fries?'

'As opposed to irregular?'

'No - what size of fries?'

Now my irritation was increasing. 'Just give me some chips'

'Do you want to go large?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Do you want to go large for an extra fifty pence?'

'Excuse me young, lady, that's a very personable question and one that doesn't warrant an answer'

By now, twenty stone Nora from Niddrie who was standing behind me with what seemed like half the contents of the local Lidl store was struggling to conceal her anger. 'Hey, pal, can you no jist get yer meal and go forth and multiply?' (I've translated what she actually said into a form of English)

I sighed 'Just give me a cheeseburger, chips and a small Coca Cola - please!'

'Sitting in?' asked the girl behind the counter.

'Does that cost extra?' I asked. Another bemused look. 'If I can find a table that doesn't have remnants of left over cold burgers, chips - sorry, fries - and onion rings, then yes.'

Burger King - they say they do it your way. Sadly, they won't be doing it my way any more.

Worst Group - An Apology

Not from me - from them. First Bus has apologised to its passengers for a "significant number" of delays caused by roadworks. The company said the problems were being caused by an extensive programme of roadworks. All First services from East Lothian, Midlothian, West Lothian, the Borders and Queensferry are affected, they said.

Here's the bit that made me laugh:

"Therefore, it is important that we advise our passengers that they may need to alter their travel arrangements to take account of the impact these external factors are having on our ability to deliver the regular, fast and efficient services our customers expect - and deserve."

Here's my message to Sir Moir Lockhead - I already have altered my travel arrangements. I now use Lothian Buses instead.

Something Different

I knew when I went out this morning there was something different about today. Aside from the fact this is the last of my three days leave from work (back to the office tomorrow, ochone, ochone...)

The streets looked cleaner than usual. There were no roadworks near where I live and no sign of any temporary traffic lights so beloved of Midlothian Council. No noisy binmen taking half the rubbish away and leaving stuff they can't be bothered emptying or making up new rules about recycling (can't take that empty plastic carton, mate, the cap's still on it...)

No screaming infants being dragged to nursery school, no older children smoking at the bus stop and generally taking the Michael out of anyone passing by. No telephone call from some spotty YTS kid from the Council HQ telling me I haven't paid my council tax when it was paid a fortnight ago.

Today, local authority workers - not necessarily an oxymoron - went on strike. To protest about poor wages, many of them have decided not to work today.

Any chance this dispute could be prolonged...?

Those Wedding Bells

A bride and groom are celebrating their special day - without the worry of being thousands of pounds in debt. Odette Fenwick, 19, and 21-year-old Chris May spent a grand total of £480 on their wedding day in north Devon. Wearing a £52 dress bought on eBay, the radiant bride looked a million dollars and said she felt "like a princess". The groom hired a suit for £90. The Ilfracombe couple exchanged vows and rings, which cost £19, at a civil ceremony in Barnstaple.

From the BBC News website

Now, speaking as a father of a girl who plans to get married in two years, I have to say I like this story. In fact, I may well print it out - in font size 48 - and pin it on the wall of Michaela's bedroom. Younger daughter has set her sights on tying the knot to her beloved at Edinburgh Castle no less. Now while having the bridegroom stand in front of Mons Meg and having the wedding at one o'clock does contain a good deal of appeal, my alternative suggestion of holding the wedding at another castle - Tynecastle for example - hasn't gone down well. But, I plead to deaf ears, think of the cost of getting married (and I'm talking financially here - don't get me started about the human cost...)

When I got married in 1982, the wedding cost £1,500. My bride and I had to pay the cost of the wedding ourselves. In fact I was counting the cost soon after...It was a simple ceremony and a simple honeymoon. There's nothing wrong with Blackpool - and in an age before satellite television it meant I could still see the infamous Scotland-Soviet Union World Cup game (the one where Alan Hansen ran into Willie Miller and the Russians scored) The missus wasn't best pleased but then she was never one who was easy to please...

So I take my hat off to the couple from Ilfracombe. What a sensible pair they are. By a remarkable coincidence, I had also said to my bride in 1982 that she looked a million dollars - all green and crumpled. She wasn't best pleased (see above)

Who needs to spend a bloody fortune on what is little more than a big party for friends and relatives you never hear from anyway? With every chance the marriage may end up like the cake - in tiers....

Olympic News

Sadly, there is some bad news for Team GB at the Olympics in Beijing. The widely fancied carpet-fitting team, from Glasgow, have been sensationally kicked out for using stair rods.


Glasgow girl competing in the Olympics who told her pal in the Olympic village: "I think I'm pregnant."

"Have you had a check-up?" asked her pal.

"No, a Greek," she said.


A Scots competitor in the track and field asking a chap with a pole: "Are you a pole-vaulter?"

Altogether now: "No, I'm German. But how did you know my name was Walter?"

Three Scottish workers who had been building the stadium didn't have tickets for the opening ceremony, but the first grabbed a length of scaffolding they were dismantling and confidently strolled into the athletes' village telling security guards he was a British pole vaulter.

The second grabbed a sledge hammer at the construction site and breezed in telling everyone he was competing in the hammer throw.

Alas, the third came a cropper when he grabbed a roll of barbed wire at the site and told security he was competing in the fencing.


See what happens when you have three days off work?

Commercial Irritation

It is, perhaps, another sign of me ageing not terribly well. But one of the many things that irritates me about 'modern life' is commercials. In this digital age of multi-channel television and radio stations by the score on digital radio and via the internet, it seems that whenever I channel hop - whether it's television or radio - inevitably each non BBC channel or station is playing commercials. And bloody irritating they are too.

At the end of tonight's Sunderland-Liverpool game on Setanta Sports - a game which rivalled watching paint dry for excitement - I flicked through the various Freeview stations. That there was nothing worth watching was hardly surprising - for multi-channel read multi-rubbish - but the fact that channel after channel were showing commercials at the same time annoyed me so much that I switched the television off (if my gruesome twosome daughters read this, yes televisions can be switched off)

The ten zillion radio stations were the same. I have to say I quite like the idea of the likes of Q Radio and Mojo Radio being 'DJ less' - those of us who can remember the likes of Tony Blackburn and Dave Lee Travis on Radio One in the 1970s are thankful that such gibberish is no longer on mainstream radio. But the commercials are annoying as hell. I particularly dislike those ads for cars or loans where the obligatory 'terms and conditions apply' paragraph is read out at the end by a voice which sounds like the Crazy Frog on crack cocaine.

There is one commercial presently being shown on television which I find disturbing. As if having Burger King outlets in this country isn't bad enough, we have commercials which are not only annoying but, in the case of their latest offering, quite disturbing. A young lad on a bus is sitting staring at an old lady laden with shopping bags who is standing beside him. As he finally gets off the bus he thinks to himself 'that old lady wanted my seat' The tagline is 'take yourself to your dark side with a Burger King something or other burger' (I forget the exact wording due to my haste to switch it off)

At least Burger King won't fall foul of the Trades Description Act. Like some of their products, this commercial has little taste...

Captions Welcome

'What's that you say, Bill? The Ruskies have invaded Georgia? Hell, I'd better get over to Atlanta real quick...'

'Mr President, have you tried switching your brain off then on again?'

'Hey, Bill - that Eye Phone you sent me. Can't find anywhere to insert the dimes'

'Bill, I don't know what the hell we're doing here. We should be where every other American is right now - in Edinburger in good old Scotsmanland'