THE REAL CRIMINALS

"WHAT IS ROBBING A BANK COMPARED TO OWNING A BANK?" (BERTOLT BRECHT)

A HAPPY AND POIGNANT EVENING AT ST. FERGUS’S CHURCH AND SCHOOL.

20/06/2012 - 7 pm. Accompanied by the boss to the beautiful church of St. Fergus for a celebratory Mass for this term's school leavers followed by a prize giving ceremony over the road in the school. Beaming children in lovely school gowns and mortar board hats were the stars of the show as they participated in the service and at the presentations. I watched these 12 year olds speak with such confidence and authority to the congregation in church and to the assembly in the school and, not for the first time I reflected that when I was that age no amount of coaxing or threats could get me to stand up and speak to such a crowd. What a pity I'm not still like that I hear some of you murmur.

I was delighted to hear and join in with some of the hymns which I have got to learn over recent years, always referred to by me as "new hymns" At the age of 63 years I doubt if any of these "new hymns" lovely as they are will ever take the place of those that I learned and grew to love as a boy, I still only have to hear the opening bars of 'Hail Queen of Heaven' or 'Sweet Heart of Jesus' and I am completely unmanned. It is by the way worth your while to attend Mass at St. Fergus's Church to sing hymns along with Father Oliver who can croon along like Bing Crosby.

One of the things which has always impressed me about St. Fergus's School is the intense loyalty on show from teachers who have dedicated the major part of their careers to teaching the children of Ferguslie Park, they are an impressive bunch of professionals and two of them who have served 71 years between them at the school were at their last leavers 'do' last night. Big bouquets of flowers were presented and a few eyes glistened while the love and affection between these ladies, their fellow staff members and above all their pupils was palpable. Not everyone gets to have such a long career doing something they love and come out the other end of it able to say "I made a difference, I did my best, I'm glad I became a teacher" these two retiring teachers are entitled to say this. They looked happy, a wee bit sad as well as contented and proud and so they should be. So should everyone at the school, I wish them a long happy retirement and best wishes to the latest batch of students to move on to "the big school" Best wishes also to the 2 ridiculously young looking teachers who will be replacing the retirees. Also a big thanks and congratulations to acting head Maureen and all her staff.

THIS IS NOT AN EXAMPLE OF PRIME MINISTER CAMERON’S STUPIDITY, IT’S AN EXAMPLE OF HIS ARROGANCE.

Jimmy Carr the comedian has been keeping his money in what is described as "an aggressive tax scheme to avoid paying his dues. Tory Prime Minister David Cameron has described this as "morally wrong"

 

I'm not often stuck for words and I can't think of anything funny to say about this, can you?

I HAVE POSTED FURTHER REMARKS ON MY ARTICLE OF MAY 7^TH. 20 12 – THIS ARTICLE HAS CAUSED TROUBLE WITH LOCAL LIBERAL DEMOCRATS.

SEND HER VICTORIOUS, AN EGG BETWEEN FOUR OF US, THANK F**K THERE’S NO MORE OF US. GOD SAVE THE QUEEN. (A SONG I LEARNED FROM MY LATE DA, MAY GOD BE GOOD TO HIM)

I dipped in to the Royal River Pageant quite a few times over a period of over 4 hours. Why did we have a 'B' list celebrity as host (Eamon something) assisted by 2 women, neither of whom I could name? Dotted around the river on various vessels were numerous nonentities who clearly should never be asked back, it was shambolic and the main attractions; the Royals had neither the personality or initiative to rescue any of it. One was left hoping that someone would throw them self off the Royal barge in to the Thames for a bit of a laugh.

The Royal vessel we were told rather helpfully by some unknown clown (who probably now sleeps with the fishes) was a converted rubbish barge which a couple of weeks ago was clearing rubbish up and down the river, they chose the vessel carefully then. The Royal Family were subjected to an unremitting and unforgiving 4 hours of close up which showed them huddling around against the elements like a bunch of cretins. My money was on the Queen and her half wit husband finding a warm place asap with a large G n T and saying thank f**k that's over at least we won't have to go through it again in another 60 bloody years.

A regiment of highly talented planners and presenters of entertainment could not have devised anything so boring and downright embarrassing if they were tasked to do so. I was "singing in the rain, just singing in the rain, what a glorious feeling Etc. Etc. Blessed be "the gentle rain from heaven, it provided mercy of great quality for us Republicans.

 

STAND FAST REPUBLICANS AND FREE THINKERS EVERYWHERE AS THE UK ENTERS SEVERAL DAYS OF UNSEEMLY GROVELLING, FORELOCK TUGGING AND BOWING AND SCRAPING. PASS THE SICK BUCKET.

My irritating provocative Chicago cousin Arthur never misses a chance to point out just how backward and hidebound we are here in Britain. His comment is elsewhere in the blog and I reply in all honesty as follows. Over the next few days Arthur, all the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men, and women, will deposit on the streets of London the biggest load of bullshit seen since the glory days of Rome and the 'bread and circuses' the clever Romans provided for their own gullible mob. I find it scary that so many people still need someone to crawl to. Let's vote to put an end to this costly corrupt Ruritanian farce, oops, sorry we can't vote for that; can we?

"One" will now sing for you. Ah one, two ah one two three four!!! To a popular tune called I believe "marching through Georgia"

"Hurrah, hurrah, my diamond jubilee, hurrah; hurrah the bevvy is for free.

Guess whose gonnay pay for it I'll tell it's no me, 3 cheers for my diamond jubilee.

Ye'll see my husband Phil. if we can get him oot the pub.

Drinking wae his cronies in the Greek ex seaman's club.

Sinking pints of ouzo and shootin aff his gub.

Nae help wae my diamond jubilee.

Then my boay oor Charlie, he's called the Prince of Wales

He loves tae go oot sailing in stormy seas an gales.

An when he cocks his lugs up we don't need any sails

nae help wae ma diamond jubilee.

Etc. Etc.

This lovely provocative little ditty ( only a few verses shown) comes from the pen of one of Renfrewshire's finest wordsmiths, folk/ blues/ragtime musician, singer and writer of many more comedy songs and stories. I refer to my old and dear friend Peter Ross , a perceptive and hilarious commentator on current affairs, politics and off the wall and sometimes off the planet thinking. Look him up and be prepared to laugh and think!