Wouldn’t it be nice if Cardiff City took the FA Cup out of England on Saturday?

Nothing against Portsmouth because if they win it takes it out of the big 4.

Me though?

I’m with my Celtic cousins.

“Fingers twitch over keyboard.

Mind wanders off to the wilderness of Arran.

As the prospect of conflict weighs heavy.

On the soul.

Bring it on.

The Auchrannie Quaich.

To the victor. The spoils.”

Yes. I’m off in search of the trophy. Shame I’m pish at golf.

I will, of course, win best dressed man.

Ok.  Let’s get Raef out of the way early.

He dressed up like this…

…to sell thongs.

Prick.

He said “People who are size 16 are that size for a reason, because they eat cake.”  Well, as Marie Antoinette said “Let him eat cake.” Tittyboy. (She didn’t say the last bit).

Aside from that he was just your average run of the mill, run of the mill posh contestant.

Lucinda, on the other hand, rises above her poshness increasingly and is my current idea of the winner.

Claire has been on a “debooting” regime and is becoming not only marginally likeable but a contender too.

Michael Sophocles however is the real villian of the piece this, and pretty much every, week.

When, having gained a six hour “passion” for selling Wedding cakes, someone said no to his extremely hard sell approach that lacked entirely in sympathy, he exclaimed “You’re making a mistake.  I mean God above…” and then gave the camera a wee insight by claiming they were all “dum dums.”  Takes one to know one Michael.

Frankly there is only one word for this tosspot.

“Goodbye.”

I don’t like this little nyaf very much.  He has a habit of making you want to punch him, very hard, very often, in the testicles and follow that up with a bit of bashing them between breeze blocks.

Sarah had to go, in due course, but not this week.

Her only crime was averageness.

Whatever.

I can hardly believe that Tommy Burns has passed away. Tommy was not an old man (only 52) and was First team coach and head of the Celtic Youth Academy until he was taken ill. Tommy was certainly worthy of the title “Celtic legend” and was a thoroughly decent man. Who can forget him going a whole season undefeated (or maybe he lost only one game?) and yet not winning the title as Celtic manager during the reign of King Walter

It was well known that he had been suffering from cancer but I was unaware of how serious the situation was. What a terribly sad piece of news and it renders reports on last night’s Rangers match versus Zenit St Petersburg redundant.

Amy has worked incredibly hard for the last year in preparation for her exams and off she slunk at 8.45 this morning for her first Highers exam; English. She’s sitting five in total including Art, Maths, Geography and Chemistry.

Good luck Amy.

If you’re thoughts are turning to the garden and what to plant this year.

Will I have hanging baskets or containers, or will I just stick to cutting the grass?

Why not come along to the Gyle this Saturday or Sunday between 10 am and 4 pm, all activities free of charge.

Carole Baxter of Beechgrove Garden fame is headling up a Flower Power weekend with garden advice and plant clinics. However, more importantly, Suntrap Garden will be there showing you how to plant your hanging baskets and containers.

There will also be lots of activites for the kids with a stilt-walker, table decorations to be made and lots more.

I’m not especially adept at Chinese, either written or spoken, myself; not having any Chinese clients and all that.  And the Chinese aren’t that good at English either, on the whole, so given that the world is about to descend on Bejing maybe these sorts of oversights might be better off fixed.

Things like this….

and this

and this

and this

My golf, as regular readers will know, is a mixture of disappointment and disaster mixed up with a smattering of anger, frustration and bad luck.

I am never, ever lucky and when push comes to shove I always lose on the last - like last week in the club doubles.  Add to this the fact that, on account of my putting so badly on Sunday, my putter is now in putter hospital (ICU) I was not feeling overly confident about beating my mate ‘Senor (El Bandirto ) Chris Rough’ in the Club Handicap championship first round

When he announced that, far from his handicap being cut because of his Mexican tendencies, it had just gone UP and consequently I was faced with the challenge of giving him a full six strokes my heart sank.

Disaster loomed.

Sure enough, I quickly surrendered an early lead to go one down but scrambled to the turn all square.

Neither of us were playing the beautiful game.  In fact it was like an East Stirling v Dumarton relegation play off match.  Huff, puff and a lot of fecking swearing.

But gradually Chris succumbed to my pressure (Actually he just drove like Nikki Lauda - on the burny day) and I found myself on the 16th tee two up.  Sure enough, he won the 16th to take it back to one and somehow I managed to grind out a half, despite giving him a stroke, on the 17th.

Dormy one.

All there to lose.

Chris hit his best drive of the night to the par three 18th (20 feet from the pin).  I hit a piece of shit to 40 yards, left, in the rough.  My second was so-so leaving me a 15 foot downhill putt from off the green.  Chris, meanwhile,  was 10 feet away from a three.

That was when life deviated from the script.  The pin removed; Gorman stood over the 15 footer, gently nudged the ball holeward and with the very final roll of the ball it dropped.

Victory.

Poor old Chris.  How will he ever live it down!

After all the fuss about referee Mike McCurry’s performance in the Rangers v Dundee Utd match last Saturday the SFA is in no position to defend his behaviour as this photo of the linesman demonstrates.

Doh!

Apparently a West Lothian councillor has had to apologise after claims she referred to Fauldhouse as a town of inbreeds.  Hailing from Broxburn, Councillor Ellen Glass was in safe territory as it takes one to know one.

Although I guess I shouldn’t say that as half of my family originated from Broxburn.

Apparently she raised the issue at a health meeting, saying she was worried because of inbreeding in the town, before being told to “shut it” by her colleagues.

What a cracker.