Saturday, 14 February 2009

Slumdog Flash and the Pink Pink Pants

Tuesday night saw me finally scramble out the ghetto where i grew feelin second rate (Corstorphine): for a coupla decades i've harboured a nane too secret desire to give out the Message in a live music situation - finally i mustered the baws to git up and do it. Grandmaster Flash might have been furious as fuck as i mumbled my way through the bits i dinnae ken too well (what's a sacrophiliac?) . But my bud, Ben, who also popped his live gig cherry with some blindin ragtime geetar, telt me i sounded like a Beastie Boy. More Brooklyn than Bronx? I'll take dat shit. Guid laugh aw roond - cheers to Leigh and Tom for funky flipflop backin.

Wednesday saw a bunch o us catch Slumdog Millionaire on a big screen made outta 2 bedsheets. I now get the hype. Based on Vikas Swarup's interesting enough novel, "Q&A", Simon Beaufoy's written a crackin wee screenplay for Danny Boyle's dip into India. It looks and feels very much like the India, and specifically the Bombay, that i've seen - right intrigued to hear what the local lads reckon when they watch it up at Tantra hoose. Anyway, beautiful performances from Dev Patel, Freida Pinto and Anil Kapoor. And i laughed ma flippin heid off (hahabonk!) at the joke about Kingussie. Being a bit o a shinty buff, i'd have liked a quick mention o Beauly but hey, even monster smash hits cannae have it all.

Then i read this barry bitto stuff in the Times of India. It's always a bit dodgy gettin too opinionated bout political/cultural stuff goin on in other countries, even if you spend months on end there (bet i spend more time in India than Shir Hun Connery does in Shconnie Botland). But there's clearly nothin wrong in standin up against right wing thugggery wherever it happens. So when the Shri Ram Sene went breengin into a Mangalore pub and whacked awkunt inside cos they dinnae dig burds havin a bevvy, i didnae need askin twice to nash into Chaudi firra pair o pink pants. As Mr X would put it, "FUKKUN!"

Saturday, 7 February 2009


Back in frosty Embra, if some radge stuck a bunch o green and white swastikas wi orange and maroon elephants atop ma front door, i'd probly take sumfink of the hump. Not so oot here tho.

Both Hindus and Buddhists have long used the swastika to presage good luck and general barryness. The swastika is seen all over India on buildings, buses, shops and items of jewellery. Unlike Sid Vicious, most Indians refrain from wearin it ironic stylee on their t-shirts.

The fat Jambo elephant is cool gadge mos pop god in Hinduism, know as Ganesh. Unlike Sid Vicious, many many Indians do indeed wear Ganesh t-shirts, tho mibbies no in ironic stylee. I've even got a Ganesh t-shirt masel and, if i can just shift a bit o the current Ganesh style flobby belly, i'm plannin to sport it through the long hot summer months in the greater Leith area. (My best pal, Shan, out here pointed at said belly the day and went, "Hey Donaldo, this has gone in." Shan never lies so i've clearly firmed up a bit in the midriff region. Bonus!)

So anyway, i was right chuffed when Raju (Roxy protector) came round yesterday and stuck thon hand crocheted number above our front door. His brother makes them. Talented gadge. I may well order a few up as prezzies for some o the luckier cats of ma ken back home.

Apart fae that, the sea's now gettin a bit too warm. Still, it's ay a refresher and it appears to help bellies to go in.

Monday, 2 February 2009

Scots Wi Whae?

Last 25th o January we celebrated Burns day in fine traditional fashion by getting loadsa Indian, English, Belgian, Welsh and even some Scots peeps to make total fuds o thimsels. We made"kilts" outta last season's almost tartan tablecloths fae Tantra cafe. The English mob slapped blue paint on their coupons (it's true, they've all seen Braveheart and they really think that William Wallace shagged the future queen of England - so who are we to disabuse them of such a ridiculous notion).

We got reekin drunk all afternoon then i stood up and declaimed Tae a Fert, which went down right well (the radge gadgies who couldnae get it were pished enough to laugh along wi everyone else). We ate the very traditional veg pakora and i shwallied 2 miniatures o Bells that Scottie gie'd aes afore we went. All in all a rather tiptop day and i'm sure Mr Burns would've been proud of our bevvied up banter.

Next year i'm bringin nae clothes and a rucsack full o poems, whisky and haggis. Bring it on!