A bloodshot view through a puffy eye streaming with tears, usually of laughter, occasionally of anger. Rather reluctantly, I attended a Mothering Sunday lunch last week. I have nothing against mothers per se, let me [more…]
Ah mind tha otha day there we aw’ thott the stashun wiz gettin’ attocked wi’ wan o’ they deadly nerff ayjunts fae Rusha. It wis aboot hoff eight in the mornen an’ the Sarge decidet [more…]
ACT 2 SCENE 4 The Coast of Uraemia. Enter TILDA, VULPECULA, ETTY and JESSICA, all garbed as Peasants.
Sally and her son were up early, just after dawn, to find Martha and Iltud already drinking tea at the kitchen table, their porridge slowly bubbling away on the range. They smiled at her as [more…]
She had called him straightaway, the excitement breaking into her voice as she told him the good news. He said he would pop round when convenient for her. “Why any time, now if you want”? [more…]
Ah’ve bin stuck oot in f**kin’ Airdrie aw days cos that Toammy Roabertson c**t’s hingin’ aboot the court an’ the chief coanstabul is pure sh*tin’ hissel’ that he might stert committin’ fer right hate crimes. [more…]
Something truly remarkable happened last Sunday and it featured in every newspaper and TV station in the land. Under the circumstances I thought I would devote this entire section of Septic Eye to this extraordinary [more…]
ACT 2 SCENE 3 A Road in Uraemia. Enter FELIX, VISCUS and SOLDIERS.
Hearing the banging and voices, smelling the cooking breakfast, Sally came down leading her son. The atmosphere of the house had changed in an instant, Martha’s tidy home had almost been overwhelmed by dirty, smelly, [more…]
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