Sky Wan

I am indebted to RE for forwarding the following.  No doubt it's already been doing the rounds of t'InterWeb, but it's the first time I've seen it so here goes.  Oh, and if there are enough requests I'll provide a translation in a future post!


Sky are rumoured to be close to launching their own dedicated Scottish Channel later this month, and have previewed what they are intending to broadcast.  Here's a selection of the listed programmes:

9am News and whaur it's pishin doon

9.30am How clarty is yer hoose?
This week the ladies pay a visit to a man whose wife shot the craw only three days ago to find the entire hoose under five inches of stoor and the cludgy honkin o' pish

10am The Mags Hainey Show
Early mornin chat show hosted by big Mags Hainey in which neds and Sengas settle their petty differences by screaming obscenities and attacking each other with furniture for the amusement of the viewing public. This morning's episode is entitled "Whaur's ma effin hoosekeepin money disappeared tae?"

12.30pm News and whaur it's pishin doon

1pm Neeburs
Soap opera set in the village of Kinghorn in Fife. This week Archie accuses Morag of being in league with Lucifer and has her burned at the stake.

2pm Film
Angels wi Manky Coupons

4pm Tam the Tank Engine
Tam goes aff the rails and the Fat Controller is chuffed tae bits

4.15pm Boab the Builder
Reality show where Boab is investigated by the Inland Revenue

6pm News and whaur it's pishin doon

7pm Doaktir Whae
In this week's episode the Scottish time traveller takes the TARDIS back tae 1966 and breks Geoff Hurst's legs wae a sonic Glesca screwdriver

7.30pm Torn Faced Cockney Wankers
Eastenders wi' subtitles. In tonight's episode, Pauline gets her jotters fae the steamie while the rest o' the cast stoat aboot wi' faces the length o' Leith Walk

9pm Fitba Player's Burds
Drama surrounding the players of fourth division Auchtermuchty Rovers and their off-pitch antics. This week Boaby is worried that the club is facing relegation while Moira is gettin' it baw-deep from the Aberfeldy Academicals goalie. 

10pm News and whaur it's pishin doon

12.30am Merrit Wi Weans
Re-make of the popular American sit-com 'Married With Children.'  In this week's episode Al sits in front o' the telly scratchin his baws while Peg is still chokin' for her Nat King Cole. 

1.30am The Beechgrove Back-Green
The boys plans tae dae up a gairdin in Niddrie are scuppered when local neds eff off wi the wheelbarra

2.15am Close Doon

Weegie Rhapsody

With apologies to Queen and the (unknown to me) author of this rather rude parody. Enjoy!

Glaswegian Rhapsody

Is this the real life?
or is it the methadone?
stuck in the Gorbals, no cred on my mobile phone
open yer wine, an' talk wi' a whine... like meeeeeeeeee!

Ah’m just a weegie
gie us yer Sunny D
cos I'll chib yer pal,
rip yer da,
slash yer dug,
ride yer ma,
anyway the Clyde flows,
disnae really matter tae me,
tae me.

Haw maw, just decked some bam,
Buckie bottle tae the heid,
Noo the fuckin bastard’s deid,
Haw maw, am just oot on parole,
An noo am headin back tae Barlineeee....
Haw maw .... oohoooh ooh
Never meant tae steal yer purse,
But if am no full o' smack this time the morra',
Carry oot, carry oot,
An' we'll go oot on the batter,

Too late the bailiff's here,
Sends shivers doon ma spine,
Gubbed 10 jellies just in time,
Goodbye all my muckers, I've got to go,
Got to go and rip some wank fae up the scheme,

Haw maw... oohoooh ooh
I'm a jakey bam,
Sometimes I think I've never been washed at all,

I see a little silhouetto of a bam.
Adidas! Adidas! Can ye get me some Kappa,
Thunderbird, White Lighting,
Very very frightening, me!
Twenty Mayfair? (Twenty Mayfair!)
Twenty Mayfair? (Twenty Mayfair and some skins!)
Magnifico oh oh oh oh!
I’m just a fat boy, naebody loves me
He’s just a fat boy fae a fat family,
Spare us a pound for a wee cup o' tea?
Get tae fuck, skanky slob, will ye get a job?
For fuck sake.... NO! I will not get a job,
Get a job,
For fuck sake.... I will not get a job,
Get a job.... Willnae get a job,
Get a job.... Willnae get a job,
no, no, no, no, no,
Oh gonorrhoea!
Gonorrhoea, gonorrhoea and the clap,
Then doon the pub, has the barman put aside for me?
For me, for meeeee!?

So you 'hink you can slash me and pish in my eye?
So ye 'hink ye can chib me an' leave me to die?
Haw bawbag, can't dae this tae me bawbag!
Just wait till I'm oot, just wait till I'm right oot ma nut!

Fuck all really matters, anyone can see
Fuck all really matters.....
Fuck all really matters.....
Tae meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... eeeeeeeeeeeee... eeeeee



And in the interests of clarity here are some definitions to assist those unfamiliar with the Glasgow patois:

Methadone = Green coloured liquid Heroin substitute, available on prescription

The Gorbals = an area of Glasgow south of the River Clyde

Wi' = With

Weegie = Glaswegian, or native of Glasgow

Gie = Give

Sunny D = Sunny Delight, a foul orange flavour drink full of sugar

Chib = assult with a weapon, usually a bladed one

Pal = Friend

Rip = Slash or cut with a bladed weapon

Da = Dad, Father

Dug = Dog, Canine

Ride = Have sex with

Clyde = The river which flows through Glasgow

Disnae = Doesn't

Tae = To

Haw maw = Hey mother

Decked = Knocked over, assaulted

Bam = An idiot, usually a derogatory term for another person, also known as Bampot

Buckie = Buckfast Tonic Wine, made by the monks of Buckfast Abbey and used extensively by the underclasses to get very drunk very quickly.  It's foul!  It's worse than foul.

Heid = Head

Noo = Now

Deid = Dead

Oot = Out

Barlineeeeeee = Glasgow's Barlinnie Prison

Smack = Heroin

The Morra' = Tomorrow

Carry oot = Alcohol bought to take away and drink

Oot on the batter = Night out for the main purpose of consuming excessive amounts of alcohol

Bailiff = Effectively a debt collector

Doon ma = Down my

Gubbed 10 jellies = Swallowed 10 tranquiliser pills, normally Benzodiazepines such as Temazepam, a controlled drug which is illegal to possess unless by prescription

Muckers = Friends

Wank = To masturbate, but in this context it's short for Wanker, a person who masturbates.  Not a compliment.

Fae = From

Scheme = Council housing estate

Jakey = An alcoholic, usually to the point of being pretty much a tramp or derelict

Thunderbird = Cheap strong alcohol

White Lightning = Cheap strong alcohol

Mayfair = Brand of cigarettes

Naebody = Nobody

Skanky slob = Excessively unclean person

Willnae = Will not

The clap = Gonorrhoea

The pub = Public House in which alcohol is bought and consumed

Barman = Bar Tender

'hink = Think

Pish = Urinate

An' = And

Bawbag = Ballbag, Scrotum

Dae = Do

Oot ma nut = Out of my mind on alcohol and/or drugs

Weegie Pie

Entirely possibly because it's pretty rude, this is one of my favourites, with apologies to both Don McLean & the (unknown to me) author of this parody. Suffice to say for the moment for those unfortunate enough not to hail from Glasgow (!) that Milngavie is pronounced Mill-Guy:

Glaswegian Pie

A long long time ago,
I can still remember how
Those weeji bampots made me laugh,
And I know if I had a chance
To see those Neds and Sengas dance,
I'd laugh my fucking arse off once again.
'Cos don't they realise it's not clever,
Drinking Buckfast doon the river,
Tucked in trackie bottoms,
They look just fucking rotten!
I can't remember if cried
When I saw these bams in East Kilbride,
But it amused me deep inside,
The day the mucker thrived!

And they were singin'........
Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

Did you write the book of shite
"Can I borrow ten bob, gonnae gee'za light?"
Bugger off yer full o' pish!
Oh and do you belive in hard core techno?
Huv ye gubbed 5 eckos fur a night at the Metro?
An’ can you teach me how to speak reeeaaallll slow?!
You can tell that she's in love wi' him,
'Cos he's fae Ibrox and she's a Tim,
They both kicked off their socks
And those manky old Reeboks.
He was a scrawny youth with a GAP pull over,
A sovvy ring and a stolen Nova,
They fell in love when he muff dove 'er, (sorry!)
The day the muckers thrived....
And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

Now for ten years you've been on the dole,
Hingin' aboot at the Paisley Toll,
And that's just how it's always been.
When the mucker screamed at the Polis van,
In a coat he'd stolen fae TopMan,
And a fag that came from you or me.
But while the cop was looking dapper,
The wee bam chibbed him on the napper,
Dressed all in Kappa clobber,
As he shouted, "suck ma dobber!".
While wee Tam stole a shirt fae 'Mark's',
And Boab slashed some cunt in the park,
They all buzzed petrol in the dark,
The day the Mucker thrived....
And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

Helter Skelter, if the wean cries belt 'er
Writing mentions on the old bus shelter,
Eight days straight drinking Faaaaaaaaaast!
Doin' six month for selling smack,
The chip pan diet and the heart attack
A night out at Archaos wi' the burd.
The Sengas reek of cheap perfume,
While name-tags jangle round the room,
Each one grabs her geezer,
A fag and lemon Breezer.
The lack of class is hard to hide,
They cannae wait to get inside,
A stair-heid winch and a door-way ride,
That's how the Muckers thrive
And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

You'll see them in their usual places,
With silly hats and ugly faces,
Ootside the offy acting hard.
So Shug be nimble, Shug be quick,
And get an ounce of speed on tick
Then cut it up and sell it to yer pals.
All lined up ootside the "Paki's",
A rainbow of exotic trackies,
Giein' abuse tae grannies,
Ya fucked up bunch of fannies!
And as the day turns in to night,
The neds may gang up to start a fight,
But on their own they're soft as shite!
I've made a Mucker cry!
And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

(Slowly with feeling)
I met a girl who sang 'The Sash'
I asked about her pant moustache,
But she just told me to fuck off!
I went down to the local chippy,
Where the Neds hung out and the staff were nippy,
And the muckers there harassed me for some fags.
Baseball hats at stupid angles,
The girls each wore three dozen bangles,
Hair done up with scrunchies,
Munching crisps and Crunchies.
But the three meals they enjoy the most,
Are chinky, chippy, beans on toast,
Come Glasgow fair they hit the coast,
The day the mucker thrived
And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Fray Bentos pie,
Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,
Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July
Singin', "There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"
"There's that posh wee cunt fae Milngavie!"

Nedivity

I originally created this post on 19th December 2007, almost exactly a year ago, but I like the image so much I think it's worth bringing back to the top of the pile for now, particularly after my recent post about Glasgow Neds.

Happy Christmas folks!

Whiny things

Went to a Thanksgiving party last night in the east end of Glasgow, which was a really good occasion. On the way there though RE and I, who had been in The Lansdowne having a beer and watching the All Blacks work it up England, went and collected GS and GS to give them a lift to the party. Needing some alcohol to take to it, well I was anyway - RE was driving (and had not partaken of beer while watching the rugby), we stopped outside an off licence in Maryhill Rd and I nipped in to do the necessary.

Now, dear gentle reader, I am no snob. Not in a real way anyway. But I do have certain standards, and I recognise that there are different, ahem, cultures living cheek by jowl all around Glasgow (and other places too).

One sure fire way of spotting the sort of area you're in is to walk into an off licence. For example, the ones in the west end, the trendy studenty west end, of Glasgow are bright welcoming places, often with large stacks of wine and beer from all around the world invitingly lying in the middle of the floor, from which you can make your selection if there's nothing on the wall shelves which takes your fancy. This is of course after having lifted down a few bottles to read their labels in an effort to aid the decision making process.

Not so the one in Maryhill Rd. You walk into what is essentially a cage three feet wide by six feet long. Everything is behind either metal bars or what looks like bulletproof plexi-glass. There's a tiny hatch which can be opened by the staff when they swap your money for their products. The important thing is that you can not touch anything, so you can't steal anything.

So into this cage I went, with two young chaps standing in front of me in the queue, both dressed in the ubiquitous ned uniform of white trackies (tracksuits to you and me). The first one, who was already being served, handed over his ten pound note, which at first the staff member attempted to refuse. When asked why, she told him that "half of it's missing!" In a uniquely Glasgow nasal whine, which sadly I really can't do justice to in the written word, he pleaded his case, hampered only slightly by the fact that he was clearly ripped out his tits on something rather stronger than mere alcohol. If you know what I mean. After not very much bargaining, the staff member relented and accepted the torn cash, at which point junkie boy was most enthusiastic in his offering of thanks. By the way.

So that left one person in front of me. He wasn't an obvious junkie, but looked like your average young ned. In a clearly well practised routine, he handed over his passport to the staff member, without being asked to, who checked his age and handed it back, and in a similar, yet less ripped to the tits, whine, he requested a bottle of fortified wine, and a packet containing ten cigarettes. Well, he actually said "a boattle 'o Buckie an' ten Mayfair", but I knew what he meant, speaking fluent ned when required due to that requirement often being called upon in a previous occupation.

So far so normal. In some places anyway. But there was a follow up question from the staff member, clearly well versed in the partaking of said Buckfast Tonic Wine, which caused me some surprise. She asked him if he'd like one from the fridge. Neddy boy merely whined "Aye!" in a tone of whine that suggested "of course you silly lady, why ever would I want a warm one?".

So, my educational horizon has been expanded yet again, every day being a school day and all that guff. In my years growing up in deepest, darkest Lanarkshire I was obviously aware of the presence of Buckfast. I even tasted it once. And I served it, ironically of course, insisting that all present tasted it, at the housewarming party in my previous flat on the grounds that I'd moved back from Renfrewshire to Glasgow, which is technically in Lanarkshire, so I should serve the local wine! But until that moment of Epiphany last night, I never knew it was apparently best drunk chilled! I can't wait for next summer!

So, he departed and that left me. I asked for some bottles of Corona beer, which the staff member walked away to get. While she was away though, another three people came in behind me. Nedettes. In all their glory. "Oh shit!" I thought, knowing what else I had been tasked with obtaining. The Corona was brought to the counter (still behind the screen though, you don't get it passed out until the money, torn or otherwise, has been given over) and I was asked "anything else?". Clearing my throat I asked "have you any ..... fruit juice, like Schloer or something?". She looked at me, making eye contact for the first time, and just sadly shook her head while saying "naw son, we don't have anything like that here, try Tesco". I paid for my Corona and squeezed past the three nedettes to the outside world and my friends in the car.

The party was great!