Allelujah!

That's me back in Unst after a month of tearing up 'n' down Airstrip One shaking my white ass for works nights out. During this time I had few notable experiences. Only really the RTD stalking of the previous post and an enlightening little gay date out to IKEA with my pretty blonde posh chum Neil.

During our "man-date" I went to releive my self in the "toaletter" when I was suddenly overcome by the love of our lord Jesus Christ.

He appeared to me in a piece of saw milled Swedish elm.

Well, of course, I had to go back and wash my hands.

He wished me a commerce free Saturnalia, I wished him a happy official birthday and went about my cushion admiring business.

Hoppas ditt 2009 ár mycket bra!

S.x.

RTD! OMG!!!

This week I’ve left the fun, wind and drink of The Auld Rock and come down to visit our celtic brothers in Cardiff.

I am wandering through Cardiff Bay with top bog-trotting comic and Doctor Who Fan extraordinaire Johnny Candon, spouting crap about Torchwood as if I know what I’m talking about when Johnny goes “Oh. Look.”

-And who is sitting there at a wee cafe reading his paper and smoking a fag?-

-None other than the great man himself Russell T Davis! Recent Úberlord of all things Whovian!

And of course, Queer As Folk- the programme that made it ok for straight blokes to have gay mates. Not the intention of the show, but a nice by-product (or bi-curios-product, if you will)

Well, it takes us five minutes of saying things like “What if he tells us to fuck off? I couldn’t recover,” and so on to each other but we finally go and do the shakey hand thing.

Loveliest bloke in the world! No kidding. A pleasure. AND it's my birthday. What a gift? I thanked him for inspiring and entertaining me with his book The Writers Tale, a pressie from my wife which I’m reading just now, and told him in a voice like a teenager in the midst of dropping his balls “I’m a writer too!” Yeah, I know. A bit pathetic. But his book says you have to be bold and just go for it! Put yerself about a bit. So it’s his own fault.

Honestly, though. Nicest guy you could meet.

And of course we get the photo. Check out below this fabulous image of tri-celtic, sci-fi homo-erotica (or two sadcase, fanboys pushing 40, pestering a hard working man who is just trying to have a fucking coffee break.)

Up Helly Ha Ha.

Last friday saw the graduation night of the Shetland Adult Learning Stand Up Comedy & Public Speaking course, taught by my very good self over the past cuppla months. Sold Oot! They came out to The Sound Hall, Lerwick in their droves (well, 60 capacity) through a snowy blizzard (True. Check the vid below and previous posts for the weather report,) and laughed into the night.

All my nervous little stooges delivered wonderful routines. I felt like a proud father watching them generate, command and respect the laughter. Not just funny but proffesional too.

With any luck this will be the prototype for The Shetland Comedy Club and we will see more of the same happen, with professionals from the mainland and locals.

Now check out dis widdar!

Dog Bites Fish.

Hungry dug? Gie her a fish!

(Model: Tess, the dug next door and a random cod.)

"Da winters are nearly as bad as da simmers..."

Well that's the winter well proper started in Shetland. Check oot ma back windae!

And check ma bike!
That wilny be goin' anywhere for a while. Not that it went far anyway. Shops and back mostly. And look, this is the south side of the lovely village of Voe halfway up the mainland.
The word Voe is auld Norse for "a big long bay", whereas the word Wick, as in Norwick means "a big open bay" like the kind of bay we might call a bay.

And here's me in my daft hat posing against a snowy Lerwick backdrop
I know it's a daft hat but I'm a Norrlander now. Okay, mibby if I swanned down Byres Road with it on, yes, I'd be one of those tits that swans down Byres Road in a daft hat (much like I was when I lived there) but now I live 30 miles south of the artic cirlce so it would be daft if I DIDN'T wear one.
As you can see I'm very pleased with it. At first I had the black yin, but then my wifey said, "Oh aye, nice bunnet. I'll be havin' that." So now I have the the browning version. Dead waarm!

Safe as Houses.

Anybody want to buy this?
It's former military base RAF Saxavord, now Saxavord Hotel and Resort in the north of Unst, frequented by archaeologists, ornithologists and folk just wanting a remote piss up location with lots of fresh air and coastal walking.
It was originally a strategic outpost for watching the Ruskies during the height of the cold war. Built to withstand a nuclear holocaust. As you can see it already looks a bit post-apocalyptic. But after the curtain came down and Russia was a mate again it became superflous and was sold as a leisure complex.
Well, now it's up for sale and it's yours for a cool 8 mill.

And get this! On the same day that this guy makes history:
This guy: ...Russian President Dimitry Medvedev, in his first state-of-the-nation speech, blames the United States foreign policy for the recent conflict in Georgia. He's sticking some nukes in Kalliningrad right next door to the USA's Polish ones.

So once that all flares up again you'll be in the safest place in the world.
Now there's a marketing strategy!

Walpurgisnacht!

Guising is pretty big up here. Taken very seriously indeed. So we had to pull out the big guns.

Disco Bride Of Frankenstein.


Deady Boy.