Yesterday, BB Junior arrived home from nursery with some homework.
You may be wondering exactly what kind of nursery hands out homework, which is a fair question. Don't worry too much though. When deciding on a nursery to send him to, we ruled out the local Nike Pre School Education and Sports Shoe Finishing facility and instead went for a more traditional fingerpaints n plasticine place.
So fittingly, his homework is aimed at us, his hapless parents. To whit:
1 small stuffed black and white toy dog called Henry.
1 A4 hardback diary in which Henry has to record his exploits.

Fuck.

I had a quick flick through the diary.
Given that the thing is handed out to a different set of parents every week, it's not surprising that it has very quickly become a weekly bulletin of barely concealed social competitivenes.
Honestly, the fear and bitterness drips off each neatly handwritten page. It is a great read!
I'm going to photocopy it and turn it into a script.

Week 1: I have enjoyed my visit to Sam's house and I was very happy that his mum and dad took us to the park and for ice cream.

Week 2: Angela's house is very big and I played on her playset in the back garden. Her mum said it cost £3000.

Week 3: I had great fun when I camped out with Brian and his friends in Brian's back garden. Brian's mum said that Angela's mum has a fur coat but no knickers. We went on a trip to Helensburgh too.

Week 4: I had the best time ever with Keir. His Dad is very rich and took us in his sports car to See celtic play in an executive box at Celtic Park. How'd you like that then, motherfuckers?

If I'm going to continue the trend of desperate oneupmanship, I'm going to have to set the bar so high, no fucker will ever be able to top it. Sadly, given how high the sodding bar's been set already, this is going to mean getting Henry a part in the new Harry Potter movie, along with trips to the World Cup final, Eurodisney and the Magical Land of Chocolate. All documented with lively, rich and colourful action photos and artfully posed black and white shots.

Not going to happen, in other words.

So, what to do? What to do?

I had considered the following:
Sending BB Jnr back to nursery next week with the diary but minus Henry. Our diary entry would be a single line, either

• Henry ran away.
• Henry ran under a bus.
• Henry got into a fight with a Pitbull, but I learned a new word - dismembered.
• Henry bit a wee girl and had to "go away".
• My dog ate my homework.
• Henry had an accident with the lawnmower.

Sadly, I've had to put this plan to one side on the grounds of taste and decency. Plus we kind of need to keep taking Jnr back to that nursery and we'd like to do so without being picked up by the Social Work Special Interventions Unit any time soon.

I've admitted defeat and am going to treat Henry to a weekend of wholesome and enjoyable family fun.
I took Henry and Jnr to Mugdock Park today and then went for lunch.
When we got home, Jnr introduced Henry to the dog and the cats.
I even took photos.

I haven't made any plans for tomorrow yet, but whatever we do, I need to remember to leave room for me and Henry to sit down with a load of beer and watch UFC 60.

From The Scotsman.

'Big Brother' plan to store every baby on computer

EVERY newborn child in Edinburgh and the Lothians faces being stored on a "Big Brother-style" national database under a major shake-up of Scotland's child protection system.

The computerised files would be kept "live" until the child reaches the age of 16 and will include personal details of their health, family life and education.

The child's file will be closed when they reach 16, but it will then be kept on record for up to 75 years.

Teachers, police, GPs and social workers will be able to access the files to check for signs of abuse.

The scheme is set to be piloted in the Highland region and may be rolled out across Scotland.

Great idea. Collate the identities of every child in the nation. Allow records to be searched and added to by multiple agencies. Because as we all know, computer systems are never hacked and mistakes are never made.
Never, ever.

This particular paving stone on the road to Hell is engraved with the words "It is for the children!"
This makes the cost, the dubious worth of the scheme, the privacy implications and the guaranteed built in inefficiency and incompetence that comes with a Government IT project (it's a feature!) all worth it.
Anyone who disagrees is clearly some kind of baby eating savage.

I've just seen a new advert on TV:
The camera pans along a railway track, focusing on small pieces of debris - personal things. Glasses, a wallet, a mobile phone.
Whats happened, you wonder, a suicide? What can they possibly be advertising?
As the camera tracks further, we see more, rescue workers picking up more wreckage, even a baby's car seat.
The shot widens to reveal the smouldering wreck of a car at the side of the track being hosed down by Firemen.

The voiceover man intones his message. In not so many words, ignoring stop signs at level crossings is pretty fucking stupid.

No shit.

I think this must be the first time since the early 80s that I've seen this style of public information advert. You used to get them all the time about road safety, swimming safety, stuff like that.
People stopping their cars on level crossings must be a real problem then, I thought, if the Department of the Fucking Obvious has gone to the expense of producing a TV advert and broadcasting it nationally.

I looked it up. The figures are shocking!

"“At level crossings, [in 2005] there were 16 collisions between trains and road vehicles; four resulted in deaths of road vehicle occupants."

A whole 4, eh?
Terrifying.

Although I take the piss, I am grateful that I've been made aware of such an insidious danger. I did have vague plans to park on a nearby level crossing sometime soon, as it has lovely views of the Old Kilpatrick hills.
If I hadn't seen that advert, why, I would have had no idea of the danger I'd have placed myself in! I could easily have become yet another statistic. Another victim of the terrifying menace that may claim as many as 10 lives this year alone.

Be careful out there.

Have a look at this self taken photo of my huge freckly forehead.
Notice, as if you could miss it, the mysterious triangular mark almost square in the middle.

I know what you are thinking - "how did one man get so much forehead?"

I have no idea how I have become so blessed in the heid department. One of those things, I suppose. Superior genes and regular shaving of my head probably help a bit.
However, I'd much rather explain the curious mark I've been sporting today.

I've had a couple of entertaining suggestions as to it's origin from colleagues:

1. The impact mark of a Toblerone section fired at high velocity at me.
2. The only physical evidence of an abduction by aliens.
3. I've joined a cult and this is their traditional symbol.
   

The boring truth is, I went back to Muay Thai last night and the mark on my head came from either a beautiful jab that rattled my jaw like it was on springs or from an elbow strike.
Those elbows hurt, even through pads.

I've been away from Muay Thai for months and didn't realise how much I missed it.
I missed staggering in my front door with my left thigh like jelly from being kicked, back sore from trying to stay upright in the clinch and my arms like wet noodles from trying to punch and keep my guard up in a pair of 16oz gloves.
I really did miss it.
It was good to be back.
I'm as rusty as hell though.

Now to the point of this post - Another MMA highlight reel I wanted to put here to share.
I didn't just want to dump this on here, like I did the Genki Sudo video, so, cunning fox that I am, I set the scene with a wee tale about my martial arts training and related mishaps.
Clever, eh?

There's lot's of this kind of thing on Google Video and YouTube, some good, some awful.
This one is the best I've seen.
It's theme seems to be the will to succeed, despite the pain.
The music really seems to fit the images well and for a change it's not a dodgy NuMetal or Rap track.

Enjoy!

Like it?

I found the banner picture in some guy's Flickr account - it's of the old Titan crane and the wreckage of the shipyards in Clydebank.
I thought a wee explanation of what a bawbag is might be handy for some people too.

Theres a bit of tinkering to do, if I can ever be bothered, but I like it much better than the old look.

"So, anyway, I telt him tae his face that he's a an arseho..."*BRRINGBRRINGBRRING*
"Whose turn is it to answer the phone? Mine? Aw fuck, hold on a sec...Good afternoon, IT"

"Hello, who's that?"

"It's Bawbag, how can I help?"

"Bawbag? Seriously?"

"Very."

"Anyone ever tell you your name is really offensive?"

"Lots of people. But, one of the joys of this multicultural age we live in is that you all need to put up with it. What can I actually help you with?"

"Well I'm having a wee problem with Excel crashing."

"Right, so, any error messages?"

"Yes one, but it just looks like a string of rubbish...whatdyoucallit...binary?"

"Ok, I'll connect to your PC and have a look then.
Heh, binary...as we always say in IT, there are only 10 kinds of people in the world. Those that understand binary and those that don't! HAHAHA!"

"What was that meant to be? Some kind of IT joke?"

"Well, kind of. It's like, well binary is all 1's and 0's..."

"I know what binary is. Just fix the fucking computer."

I made an oblique reference to IT humour in an earlier post and foolishly said I would investigate the matter.
So I did.
I've been having a wee look around for evidence that such a thing actually exists and, well, I'm still not sure.
I found something on a website today that someone obviously thinks is funny, but honestly? It's not.
If the concepts "funny" and "not funny" can be characterised as opposite sides of the same coin, this shit is...well, something else entirely. The coin thing just doesn't cut it. Let's say it's a piss-soaked carboard tube from a toilet roll lying in a urinal somewhere.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

1. Home is where you hang your @
2. The E-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail.
3. A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.
4. You can't teach a new mouse old clicks.
5. Great groups from little icons grow.
6. Speak softly and carry a cellular phone.
7. C:\ is the root of all directories.
8. Don't put all your hypes in one home page.
9. Pentium wise; pen and paper foolish.
10. The modem is the message.
11. Too many clicks spoil the browse.
12. The geek shall inherit the earth.
13. A chat has nine lives.
14. Don't byte off more than you can view.
15. Fax is stranger than fiction.
16. What boots up must come down.
17. Windows will never cease.
18. Virtual reality is its own reward.
19. Modulation in all things.
20. There's no place like http://www.home.com
21. Know what to expect before you connect.
22. Oh, what a tangled website we weave when first we practice.
23. Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day: teach him to use the Net and he won't bother you again.

Personally, I think they are so bad, they kinda warp reality round themselves and somehow become sort of good.
So I'm spearheading a campaign to use them at work.

Anything that gets you through the day, right?

Because I work in IT, know a little bit about computers and spend far too much time online, people regularly accuse me of being a geek.
I disagree.
How can I be a geek? I fuckin hate computers. I don't like Star Wars, Star Trek or most Sci Fi. I am married with a child, so am clearly not a virgin.
Surely these are all prerequisites for your genuine geek?

I will admit to certain geekish tendencies though. Nothing major, just a wee personality quirk. I own a Leatherman Multitool, for example, though I don't clip the thing to my belt. That would cross the line into wanky.

Certain things I am into, if you look carefully, are a clue to these tendencies which I normally keep so carefully hidden:

• Certain Sci Fi films and TV shows - Stargate SG1, the new Battlestar Galactica, Firefly/Serenity
• Lord of the Rings
• Terry Pratchett's books
• Online FPS games
• War movies
• End of the world theories
• Martial Arts

But, I usually manage to keep the lid on it.

So, the geek levels were pushing critical when I read that we are due for a close thing with Comet 99942 Apophis in 2036.

Apophis was the ancient Egyptian God of darkness, chaos and evil.
A good name for a potential civilisation buster and quite an interesting wee story in it's own right, I thought. Not enough on it's own to have me clipping stuff to my belt though.
No, what really got me reaching for my geek outfit was the fact that the comet is actually named after the Apophis who is a bad guy on Stargate SG1.
Now THAT had the geekiness fair streakin oot me.
I had to sneak away for a quick geek out in my full geek battledress - for you norms, that's a white short sleeved shirt with pens in the pocket and my full rig clipped to my belt - Leatherman, mobile phone AND a PDA I had to steal off somebody.
Geek powers, activate!

Incidentally, Mrs Bawbag doesn't think I'm a geek either.
No, she thinks I've got Aspergers Syndrome.
I have no idea what she's talking about.

Scotland is fucked.

A hard drinkin, heavy smokin 11 year old West Lothian girl is about to become Britain's youngest mum.

At first I was going to go off on a rant about how there's 2 kids at risk here, and if something is done quick enough, maybe the damage could be limited a bit and both could have a shot at a decent life.
Then of course I realised that the wee girl will never, should she be so inclined, need to do a days work in her life as the state will no doubt provide plentiful benefits.
Score!

Her mum said

"I'm not ashamed of my daughter at all - in fact, I'm proud of her for keeping her baby."

Therein lies the problem.
The woman shouldn't be ashamed of her child. What could your child ever do to make you ashamed of them?
No, she should be fucking mortally ashamed of herself for failing as a parent so spectacularly.
Fucking hell! Your 11 year old daughter smokes, goes out on the piss in Edinburgh and is having a fucking baby!
Some cunt, somewhere in authority needs to take the fucking kid gloves off and say enough is enough. You, missus, have fucked up royally.
Would it be too much to expect someone, somewhere to suggest that there may be a charge of neglect to be answered here?

Please note, before anyone sticks the boot into me about blaming the woman, the only reason I'm blaming the mum is because she appears to be the sole parent here.
If there was a Dad present I'd be ranting and raving about him being a fucking waste of space too.

I predict the Executive's initial response will be to fling money at the problem, because the evidence clearly points to this being the best solution for everything, ever.

Green MSP Patrick Harvie said the case showed that deficiencies in Scottish sex education must be addressed.
Mr Harvie, co-convenor of the Scottish Parliament's cross-party group on sexual health, said: "I think we need to do away with this notion that sex education is everywhere and that young people have got all the information they need.

"There are a lot of myths out there and sex education is quite patchy in this country.

"The sexual health and relationships strategy from the Scottish Executive - the implementation of that is going on at the moment - needs to lead to much more comprehensive sex education."

nobody's mentioned sex ed in Primary schools yet, but you can fucking bet it's in the post.
How fucked does a society need to be to start teaching primary school children about the realities of sex?

The thing is, if this was anything like a freak occurrence it wouldn't be so bad, but I bet shit like this goes down in every town in the country virtually every week.

All is not totally lost. This is an example of the bold leadership Scotland sorely needs right about now.
Duncan McNeil for First Minister!

3 weeks to go till I surrender my identity and become Corporate Drone #767202, serving the greater good of Giant German Engineering Corp.

Someone in the office was wittering on about big corporations having corporate anthems, which just sounded like a load of old shite to me.
But as ever, I'm wrong.

Granted, that anthem is for Fujitsu, not my new employers.
My brief bit of research suggests that they don't actually have one, which almost seems a shame, as being German, I bet it would be a fucking beauty.

Windows Vista brings clarity to your world, so you can more safely and easily accomplish everyday tasks and instantly find what you want on your PC. Explore entertainment, such as TV and music, on your Windows Vista-based PC like never before. And with Windows Vista, you'll more conveniently stay connected to the people who are important to you, from home or while on the go - Microsoft's Official blurb on the new Vista OS

A cruel and vengeful God decreed it was my bitter fate today to attend a seminar on Windows Vista.
For those of you who don't know, Vista is Microsoft's next OS release.

If the guy hosting the seminar was to be believed, Vista is both "cool" and "awesome".
I would advise caution. His biog described him as "a self confessed technology evangelist". Decency surely demands that such people be burned at the stake. No court in the land would ever convict me.

Vista is a ground-up rebuild of Windows that, reading between the lines of the sales crap I was force fed today, removes all of the niggly little annoyances from your Windows Experience - things like having to think for yourself, as Vista will quite literally try to do everything for you.
No more having to go to the trouble of phoning some smart arsed IT guy when things go wrong, because there won't be any smart arsed IT bastards any more! Vista will allow your company to fire all us all, because as well as doing everything for you, it apparently doesn't do anything wrong.
I think the implication is that it is you, the user, who is in the wrong. This is not a problem as the new Vista Re-Education Experience, no doubt on the way with Service Pack 1 (with USB 2 compatible electrodes!), will optimise your thoughts to run properly with the operating environment.

I almost sympathised with those crazy Linux nazis, holed up in their log cabins, ranting on about bloatware and the simplicity of command line interfaces and open source code. Vista's recommended system requirements are hefty enough to choke a horse. Surely, if they left out all the stuff they've nicked off Mac OS (Gadgets! The Aero desktop!), Firefox (tabbed browsing! RSS feeds in IE!) and Linux (stuff I don't care to understand, because Linux is not for people who have had sex ever!) they could have brought the system requirements down a bit? Does an OS need to do half the things being claimed of Vista?
As I said, I almost sympathised, but as I'm not a complete and utter wank with deeply held feelings towards computer software, I just couldn't.

Who fucking cares anyway, Vista will be Windows for Halfwits. No doubt it'll be bigger than Jesus.

Maybe I'll get lucky and be made redundant in the Great Vista Massacres of 07.

I must be the worst IT support guy on the planet. Folk at work, or in the pub try to talk about IT stuff like I'm supposed to have an opinion about Windows v Linux or the new Internet Explorer update or the drawbacks of dual core processors.
I don't care. I know about Windows stuff, as that's my job. That's it. I'm not interested otherwise. I don't read IT publications, books or websites unless I need to. I don't engage in witty IT banter with other techy types.
Is there even such a thing as witty IT banter? Must find out.

God, I feel worse after writing this. Like I've actually diminished as a person for spending so much about something that makes me so weary.
My line of work makes my soul tired.

An instant messenger chat with my Brother today got me thinking about my son and how terrified I am for when he starts High School.
See, I remember school. A fucking gladiator academy it was. And that was 21 years ago!
My god....I started High School 21 years ago....I'm older than I realise.
If I was in Logan's Run, I'd be dead by now!

Anyway.

I'm just being a soft old dad, but BB Junior is only little. The thought of some pack of predatory neds setting their sights on him makes my fists itch.
Again, maybe it's just because I'm a doty old bastard now, but the shit that kids do to each other and need to put up with nowadays seems a hundred times worse than when I was wee.

The advice in our family has always been to fight back against bullies. Even if you get a beating, you'll get some respect and not be marked out as a soft touch.
This, on the face of it, seems sound, plus Mrs BB and myself, both being 3rd dan black belts in Karate, with experience in Muay Thai and Judo, are probably in a better position than yer average ma and da to dish out some advice on the ancient and noble art of bootin baws and breakin jaws*.
But then, is the advice to fight back the best way to go now?
Say some neddy gangsta wannabe decides to have a go at wee BB Junior, who then kicks the guys arse in front of all his mates.
What's going to happen then?
Is this going to earn him some peace and quiet or a screwdriver between the ribs in a revenge/face saving excercise?

Fighting back served my Brother well. He stood up to a much older guy in 2nd year, punched him in the mouth and promptly got the shit kicked out of him.
No fucker bothered him again in the remaining 4 years at that school.
But that was 16 years ago.

Speaking of my Brother, here's his plans, from our IM conversation, for preparing his oldest daughter for the reality of school.

Bawbag's Brother says: i need to toughen F up
Bawbag's Brother says: ahm gony stand her on mums mantle peice and tell her tae jump aff, that ahll catch her
Bawbag's Brother says: then ahll move tae the side, let her crash to the floor
Bawbag's Brother says: and go
Bawbag's Brother says: TRUST NAE CUNT
Bawbag Himsel says: hahahahahalol!
Bawbag Himsel says: best advice ever

Certainly a valid, if controversial approach.

Ach, I dunno. Things probably aren't as bad as all that.
Theres a long time to go before BB Junior reaches High School anyway, he's only 3!
I think I'll probably choose to instruct the wee fella on some basics and let him know that it's only for defending himself. And that it's always right to defend himself, no matter what other adults might say.

Nobody mentioned this, back when we announced Mrs BB's pregnancy, it was all talk of sleepless nights, nappies, teething, but oh god, it's worth it all, blessem.
Nobody thought to mention the constant terror.
Fear of illness, cot death, accidents, developmental problems, abduction, paedos, getting knocked down, violence, drugs, fuckin terrorism....ad fucking nauseum.



*a thousand humble apologies to the Dinky Ninjas MMA team for kind of pinching their slogan.
It's just too good not to use. Please don't hurt me.

Just back from training, where I kneed a woman in the head (accidentally!) and was slammed onto the back of my neck from about 5 feet in the air.

I'll just keep telling myself that excercise is good for me, over and over. Like a mantra.

It's really obvious that you could get fucked up quite easily doing Judo and tonight is the closest scrape I've had.
Thank fuck the guy throwing me had the skill to control the throw and the foresight not to commit his weight onto me or I'd have been up shit creek.
It was quite funny, once the guy hoisted me onto his shoulders, being a big fella, I had a long way to fall and a long time to ponder my fate. I seem to remember my thoughts going something like -

"ohshitohshitohshitfucknonotthebackofmyneckAIEEE! Hey! Still conscious. No pain. I CAN STILL MOVE!"

Still, without the threat of imminent pain or maiming, my life would be a little sterile. Or so I keep telling myself.

Remember back when Nazeem Hamed was fighting? One of the things he was famous for was his "flamboyant" ring entrances.
This guy kind of puts him in the shade - Genki Sudo.

He's a Japanese pro MMA fighter and Kickboxer who has managed to combine his background in performance art and wrestling into a bizarrely successful fighting career.

I've been aware of him for ages, but only actually saw him fight recently. A recent K-1 match was on Eurosport featured him fighting in a full Kung Fu outfit, rather than the usual lycra short shorts those guys wear, after performing a lengthy Drunken Kung Fu dance routine on his way to the stage.
The thing is, he performs a different, hugely choreographed dance routine every fight he does.
He must spend as much time practicing his entrances as he does training!

So, bored as I was in work today, I spent some time looking for some good highlight videos of him to share.
I found this.
He's a crazy, slippery little bastard who has a wicked way with a flying triangle. You'll love him.


His official website.

Here's a question:

Say you are looking for a job and need to get a CV together, what would you do?
Make one from scratch?
Get a template online?
Copy a mates and use it as a template?
Maybe even get one done professionally?

Those all seem reasonable answers.

How much of a fuckwit do you think you'd need to be to think the best idea would be to:

• Phone the IT department of your ex employer, whose employment you left 6 months ago.
• Ask for access to your old computer account so you could get your CV from it.
• When told no, it can't be done, as the account has been deleted and even if it hadn't, you wouldn't be getting access to it, ask for the CV to be recovered from backup.

I think you'd need to be the biggest fuckwit on the planet.

Competition is fierce for such a prized title, but the guy who called us today and asked exactly what I wrote above has to be in the running.

Horst: Homer, could we have a word with you?
Homer: No.
Horst: I must have phrased that badly, my English is, how you say, inelegant. What I meant to say is: "Can we have a brief friendly chat?"
Homer: No!
Horst: Once again I have failed. (brings out a phrase book) "We request the pleasure of your company for a free exchange of ideas."

This morning, I underwent the first phase of my indoctrination...er, transfer to my new employer, who, not naming any names, are a gigantic German engineering company.

I was kind of hoping to see a friendly wee chubby German guy, like Horst up there with Homer. Sadly, Horst the friendly German didn't make an appearance.
We got half a dozen English guys in suits.
Not the same.

Things are looking good for my new, high flying career, as I managed to stay awake through the entire 2 hour session! Pure professional me!

I still can't quite believe that there were no decent freebies in our welcome packs.
No freebies at all, in fact.
Not even a pen or a fucking coaster! Shocking.

Oh well, my exciting* adventure in IT outsourcing has officially started.


*"exciting" in this case may alternatively mean "tedious, dull and very shortlived"

Apparently, Scotland's youth are withering in the grip of a skin cancer epidemic. Step forward Labour MSP Ken Macintosh.
He has proposed a bill calling for tighter legislation of sunbeds and tanning salons.

Tommy Sheridan is giving it his full backing.

The Scottish Executive have been prodded into action.
They have announced that they, along with Scotland's Police forces, local authorities, the Orange Order and Cairde na hÉireann are going to put an end to the sectarianism associated with religious marches.

About time too, though I am sad to see that they have chosen not to implement either of my solutions:

1. Arm both sides with a variety of entertainingly lethal weaponry and fit each participant with a remote controlled explosive collar that can be detonated on command, by say the Police, or preferably, me. We would schedule Orange and Republican marches to happen at the same time, in the same, sparsely populated, low value area (Dundee, f'rexample) and let them go at each other in a Battle Royale of spectacular, visceral and above all, lovingly filmed violence.
2. Should you lack my vision and sense of theatre, I suppose we could, oh I dunno, make the march organisers pay every single penny of the extra costs of Policing their march, pay in full the cost of cleaning up after their march and reimburse local businesses for loss of trade on march days.
   I have no idea if they do any of this already, but I suspect if you hit them hard in their pocket, they'll soon clean up their act.
   

I don't actually think the marches should be banned. There's far too many cries for stuff to be banned in Scotland as it is, so I'm not adding to them.
I'd rather just make it so horrifyingly painful, financially or physically, to hold a march in Scotland that folks just won't bother anymore.
Put them through a fraction of the hassle they cause everybody else, that'll show 'em.

I just kinda get the feeling that they are pishing into the wind a bit here.
While it's commendable that they are taking some sort of action, the problem is too deep rooted to be fixed by this sort of media friendly publicity blitz.
We need something that will take effect right at the grass root level.
Given the mentality of the buggers that go in for this kind of thing, it might be more effective to issue an official edict that anyone involved in Republican or Orange marches shall, without fear or favour, be officially recognised as gay.

In a joint statement issued today by the Grand Orange Order of Scotland and Cairde na hÉireann, spokespersons for each organisation said:
"look, we urnae bent, right! Shutit!"

Aye, whatever you say boys. Funny your parade routes always seem to go past Bennets but, eh?

This could be one of they win-win situations.
Even if the thought of being labelled gay doesn't drive the marches off the streets, adding a gay pride element to them would at least liven them up a bit.

What would an Orange/Gay Pride march look like?