stroppycow

I was told of Santa's non-existence by my pals' Dad, when I was six and excitedly on my way to the Girls Brigade Xmas Party. I was devastated but my parents and elder brother vehemently denied it was the case, and I went on half-heartedly believing until the following year when I marched downstairs and into the living room on Xmas Eve, to ask who'd won Mastermind (I was an odd child and we didn't have TV's in our bedrooms in 1975) and found mum wrapping up my Doll's Trousseau and frilly pink cot which I'd asked for. By that point I wasn't really bothered - just reassured that the right presents would continue to appear.

Older than virtually everyone here so not telling. Survived living in early 1980's Kincorth then escaped from Aberdeen for 7 years (college, work) but came back for a visit 13 years ago and stayed by mistake. Its not so bad. Not when compared to High Wycombe, where I also ended up by mistake. Bloody awful place.

Don't believe that one life for another is ever a sensible way of dealing with crime - no matter how heinous. Life imprisonment should mean just that. For the duration of the perpetrator's natural life, and somewhat more basic than a lot of prisons are nowadays. No mod-cons (bad choice of word), entertainment etc - just a very long time to reflect on their wrong-doings. And leave out the counselling - save that for those who have a chance of getting out again.

A friend of mine has Donald Duck on her upper thigh which would be bad enough in any case, but she is a large lady and has expanded by several stone in the past five years. Poor Donald now has stretch marks and is a funny shape. Ew.

Banana. Nature or nurture?

At least you know some of the ones I remember! being even more ancient, I liked these: Mary, Mungo and Midge Mr Benn Roobarb Noah and Nelly Itsy and Bitsy The Clangers Ivor the Engine (much better than bloody Thomas) Come Back Lucy (that was really scary....) Heidi (hilarious dubbing) Storybook International (I think thats what it was called)

Justin Timberlake

That is the best news story I have ever read. Ever.

I got one for writing a limerick about Goldie the labrador. I cant remember the limerick (which is probably for the best) and never went anywhere that the badge got me in free as my parents would only ever go on caravanning or camping holidays to improving (i.e. uninhabited) parts of the highlands with no running water, shops, amusement arcades and not even a National Trust place to get into free of charge. All of which Blue Peter would no doubt have approved of.

I don't suppose he ever set out to be an alcoholic with his own, and others around his, life in ruins. Not many people do. HIs mother was also an alcoholic. There is a strong genetic predispensity towards alcoholism. I have managed to get to nearly middle age without being an alcoholic or a drug addict, but I lost a dear friend to one of these illnesses earlier this year and I lived for a long time with someone who suffered from the other. Do I think it serves them right? No. Do I know how hard it is to live with someone in those circumstances? Yes. I try not to judge people on these issues nowadays.

Because he was the most amazing player ever to watch. Absolutely brilliant. And he was utterly beautiful when he was younger. That's why. And I'm sure we all deserve someone to care about us when we die.

A friend of mine went to a party as the shower scene from Psycho. She wore a shower curtain, with the shower head and hose round her neck, slashes in the curtain with fake blood and gore and a knife sticking out of her back. All topped off with fluffy slippers. Lovely. Her sister went to one a few years back as the rotting corpse of Princess Di. My favourite ever was a friend who along with a group of her pals, went to a party as the JFK assassination. She got to be the grassy knoll. I went to one as Alex from A Clockwork Orange a few years ago and actually frightened myself.

Total quality! Thank you!

Quality - thank you!

Well said. I forgot about the News Quiz. Further comedy genius.

MattJimF I feel so much better about life now. My kitchen is currently being ripped out and rebuilt, I am by nature a domestic slut, and my house is STILL tidier than that! Hooray!

Maggie has short black hair (when its been recently dyed), two moustaches (one black, one Irn Bru), and very unsupported bosoms. She is under five foot tall and has a penchant for large handbags and waterproof jackets.

Radio 4 is the only station worth listening to. The Archers is the only soap worth following in any case, and the comedy is fantastic. Deadringers just hasn't made the cross-over to TV successfully. Sorry I Haven't a Clue is without question the best comedy in any medium ever. I enjoyed Home Truths till John Peel stopped presenting it (I suppose he couldn't really help that right enough....) and I always listen to Today in the morning because its the only place I find folk that sound grumpier than I feel.

I love a good football chanting session. On the courtesy bus returning from a posh wedding out the road, I had a large proportion of the passengers bellowing such classics as: REFEREE! YOU'RE SUCH A FUCKING PENIS! REFEREE! YOU'RE A HORSES ARSE! and of course You rake in your bucket for something to eat You find a deid rat and you think its a treat In your Glasgow slum. How we laughed. Admittedly some of the brides elderly relatives didn't but that's their problem.

If I had a camera I would take a picture of my desk and the space underneath my desk. My desk is invisible under a morass of paper, printer, folders, stuff to go in folders, grubby mugs, stress ball, fan, a clockwork Cartman, handcream, phone, charger, coffee, food hygiene manuals, video tapes, books, cherry liqueuer chocolates, more paper etc. Under the desk there is a lot of paper, a paper recycling box (full), two gym kits, a lot of old hanging files, various copies of SLTN news, a flask, an Elvis lunch tin, various plastic tubs (some with dubious looking fungal growths), some 'useful' plastic bags, laddered tights, a bra and a spare top.

I spent ten years walking up and down King St to work and had many interactions with Maggie. She lives in supported accommodation (Glamis Cottage) and has never been offended if I say 'no I havent got any cash' or 'no I've ran out of fags' - she likes a chat anyway, usually involving how many injections she has now had at Elmfield House or how a taxi driver gave her a 'braw wee purse but she's got nithin' tae pit in it'. She once asked a friend of mine for a cigarette and when he said he didn't have any she said 'here - have one of mine'. I never mind giving her cash as she doesn't spend it on booze - her big vice is Irn Bru and the occasional flapjack.