THE PEEPPUL'S STORY

No matter how they try to hide it, the dark side of Peeppuldum (is there a light side?) keeps crawling out for us to see. Take the Daily Record and its seemingly innocuous story about there not being enough cans of Buckfast to supply Glastonbury. I say seemingly innocuous because the mere mention of Buckfast is enough to get some self-righteous hun crawling out from under his sister to bang at the keyboard. Sure enough, one John Johnston, a regular contributor to DR forums, arrived right on cue:

"I find it astonishing that roman catholic monks who it is claimed have a social conscience should continue making and marketing this scourge of our youth, many of whom claim to be incapacitated by this firewater as they commit crimes they can remember nothing about".

I find it astonishing that anybody can be that thick. Take a walk into any prison and it'll be full of innocent men and women, who'll tell you that it 'wisnae their fault' they 'goat picked oan by the bizzies' or they were so drunk that they can't remember what they did. I suppose they should just get a wee pat on the head and told not to do it again?

Throughout history all manner of substances have been abused. Half of Victorian Britain was addicted to laudanum, while in the early 20th Century a novel alternative was found when there was no money for drink. A rubber hose from the gas mantle into a glass of milk or water, a quick scoosh of gas, gulp it down quickly and some state of inebriation could be reached. In my own lifetime I've seen folk sniffing glue, inhaling lighter fluid and cleaning products, while I knew one enterprising soul that managed to acquire strychnine and took a small pinch before going out of an evening. One character swore by half-a-dozen soluble aspirins dissolved in a glass of Harvey's Bristol Cream!

With all these DIY methods of getting smashed it seems churlish to pick on one product; but pick on it they do. The fact that it's made by Catholic monks gives some folk a good excuse for their bigotry, while masquerading under the banner of social conscience. When Helen Liddell went down this route, playing the Uncle Tim to try to appeal to the voters of Airdrie it was the first time I started to have reservations about the Labour Party. Surely she, and the rest of them, must realise that if the monks stopped making Buckfast then folk, as they always do, would move onto something else. Perhaps they would prefer them to be smoking crystal meth or injecting Krokodil?

The Daily Record also sees fit to tell us the 'story' behind the famous photograph of the razor-wielding thug attacking an older man on a crowded street. I always thought the older guy was reaching into his coat for a blade but it turns out that he was actually a police officer that had tried to arrest the ned. Anyway, the story goes that this character was a 'Loyalist' from Bridgeton, who had attacked somebody at a march protesting against British troops in Northern Ireland. The ex-cop recounting this tale (not the guy in the picture, by the way) says that it was naive of the council to allow the march. So there you have it: a thug runs amok with an open razor and it's all the fault of Republican marchers and the council! Hunbelievable!

Meanwhile the anti-Islamic organisation called Britain First is offering free classes in martial arts to the lunatics that belong to it. The advert for these 'Fight Clubs' says, “We feel this is a vital part of building a real movement for the future struggle to take back our country.” And it's not just Muslims that should feel threatened. The halfwit that runs this mob, Jim Dowson, is an Orangeman and a former member of the BNP, who lives in Belfast and gets involved in Unionist activities over there. I would imagine that 'taking back our country' probably envisages not only fighting against Muslims and one wonders what this shower would get up to in the event of a 'YES' vote in September.

Another militant, right-wing extremist, David Knowles, has been jailed for nine months for beating up his girlfriend. This character is a member of the Scottish Defence League, which is allied to the English version and are usually to be recognised by waving Union flags, wearing Rangers tops and trying to fight with Muslims. I had to laugh when some clown commented on the DR forum that he looked 'like a Celtic fan'. Obviously the huns have no sense of irony!

They guy is a frightening looking individual, with teeth like something out of a horror film; a zombie in fact! He's far scarier than the agnivores I've got on the front cover of my book! Speaking of which, most of you still haven't bought a copy - why not? Click on the photo of this ugly bastard to go to the details page on Amazon. (P.S. I see Amazon has reduced the price yet again for the paperback - it's only £5.22 now!)

How the hell did this creature get a girlfriend?