Glasgow Urban Myths (2 page)

There is a moral to this story

This can’t possibly be true – who would be that stupid? – but it’s got enough legs to make people, especially engaged women, just a bit nervous.

A young couple were married in Glasgow Cathedral amid much joy and hoopla. The wedding was a large, elaborate festival – the bride was radiant and the groom handsome. Both families were delighted.

During the reception, the bride’s father placed his dinner jacket on the back of his chair and went off to dance and socialize with his guests. Later in the evening, he looked into his jacket pocket for the three grand in cash he had brought to settle the bills with the band and several other people who had provided services. This gives it a wee ring of truth for me, as musos always want paid in cash. The money, of course, was gone, as was his wallet. What to do? His daughter’s wedding couldn’t end in disaster. Fortunately, one of his closest friends had a gold credit card. The guest paid all the bills, and the next day, the bride’s father repaid him. But both were still astonished that a wedding guest had stolen the money.

A week later, the video photographer delivered the wedding video to the bride’s family for checking before final edit. The father was amazed and a bit less than pleased to see footage of his new son-in-law removing his jacket from the chair and trousering the cash and wallet.

And the moral is, look for video cameras before you steal anything.

Getting ahead

I have been told that this is a genuine reply to a guy who had been pestering the Uni, but I don’t believe it. It does have a kind of studenty feel to it, though, but the grammar is too good.

Paleoanthropology Department

Glasgow University.

Dear Sir,

Thank you for your latest submission to the University, labelled, “211-D, layer seven, next to the clothes pole. Hominid skull”. We have given this specimen a careful and detailed examination, and regret to inform you that we disagree with your theory that it represents, “conclusive proof of the presence of Early Man in Priesthill two million years ago”. It appears to us that what you have found is the head of a Barbie doll, of the variety one of our staff, who has small children, believes to be the “Wedding Barbie”. It is evident that you have given a great deal of thought to the analysis of this specimen, and you may be quite certain that those of us who are familiar with your prior work in the field were loath to contradict your findings. However, we do feel that there are a number of physical attributes of the specimen which might have given you a clue or two to its modern origin:

1. The material is moulded plastic. Ancient hominid remains are usually fossilized bone. No, they are always fossilized bone. They are never, ever plastic. Really, not ever.

2. The cranial capacity of the specimen is approximately nine cubic centimetres, well below the threshold of even the earliest identified proto-hominids.

3. The dentition pattern evident on the “skull” is more consistent with the common domesticated scabby dug than it is with the “ravenous man-eating Pliocene whelks” that you speculate roamed the swamps of Scotland during that time. This latter finding is certainly one of the most intriguing hypotheses you have submitted in your history with this institution, but the evidence seems to weigh rather heavily against it. Without going into too much detail, let us say that:

A. The specimen looks like the head of a Barbie doll that has been chewed by a dog.

B. Whelks don’t have teeth.

It is with feelings tinged with melancholy that we must deny your request to have the specimen carbon dated. This is partially due to the heavy load our laboratory must bear in its normal operation, and partly due to carbon dating’s notorious inaccuracy in fossils of recent geologic record. To the best of our knowledge, no Barbie dolls were produced prior to the 1950s, and carbon dating is likely to produce wildly inaccurate results.

Sadly, we must also deny your request that we approach the Phylogeny Department with the concept of assigning your specimen the scientific name, “Scottijockodus Gaunyadancer”. Speaking personally, I, for one, fought tenaciously for the acceptance of your proposed taxonomy, but was ultimately voted down because the species name that you selected was stupid, and didn’t really sound like it might be Latin.

However, we gladly accept your generous donation of this fascinating specimen to the University. While it is undoubtedly not a hominid fossil, it is, nonetheless, yet another riveting example of the great body of work you seem to accumulate here so effortlessly. You should know that our Director has reserved a special shelf in his own office for the display of the specimens you have previously submitted to us, and the entire staff speculates daily on what you will happen upon next in your digs at the site you have discovered in your back green. We eagerly anticipate the trip to visit us that you proposed in your last letter, and several of us are pressing the Director to pay for it. We are particularly interested in hearing you expand on your theories of the “trans-positating fillifitation of ferrous ions in a structural matrix” that makes the excellent juvenile Tyrannosaurus Rex femur you recently discovered take on the deceptive appearance of a rusty 9mm shifting spanner.

Yours most sincerely,

Name withheld by request.

I’m going to join

Dear Friendly Wee Pal,

How many times have you wanted to fill that yawning spiritual void in your life but just weren’t able to find the time or the energy? How often have you wanted to form a more personal relationship with a Higher Authority but just couldn’t get turned on by that same old tired selection of Supreme Beings? Haven’t you ever wished there was just one religion out there that understood you, Friendly Wee Pal, that indulged you, one that fitted in with your creative, dynamic lifestyle? Well, at last, thanks to the creators of Weegieism, there is. Finally, there’s a faith that works for you, Friendly Wee Pal, instead of the other way around. After all these years, and following an in-depth market research study, Weegieists Worldwide (a non-profit agency not affiliated with anyone) has come up with a religion that draws upon the best features of some of the world’s most popular denominations, but does them all far better.

Yes, Wee Pal, that’s right! Weegieism is everything some religions are and much, much more. It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure; it’s everything you always wanted in a God and less. Designed using the latest in CAR (Computer-Aided Religion) technology, here are just a few of the features Weegieism offers:

Guaranteed Salvation. Guaranteed.

Other religions require you to behave a certain way in the here-and-now in order to make it to the hereafter, but with Weegieism, you can do whatever you want, because your salvation is guaranteed! Weegieism realizes you’ve got enough to worry about in life without having to be nervous about where you’re headed after you die, so relax! As a Weegieist, death means never having to have said you’re sorry. Whatever heaven you want is yours, or, if you’d rather just be dead, that’s fine, too.

Your Choice of Supreme Being.

No more arguing about who is more all-powerful: Jesus or Mohammed, Buddha or Joe Smith. Stop fighting about whether Allah could beat the Holy Ghost in a wrestling match. End the endless bickering over whether the Supreme Deity is a He or a She. With Weegieism, you can choose. Using the patented Godolyzer, you make God in your image. Combine Jesus’ hairdo with Mother Nature’s eyes. Add the musical flair of Krishna to the sexual swagger of Zoroaster. You want a Lord who’s vengeful but also knows how to rock? No problem. Using the Godolyzer, with or without the templates provided, it’s
your
choice.

Eat Whatever You Want.

Remember fish on Friday? Or how about unleavened bread? Kosher, who needs it? As a Weegieist, you’ll never have to tongue another eucharist wafer off your palate or nurse another hangover brought on from sacramental wine again. Glut your gums however you’d like, whenever you’d like. Take all you want, just want all you take.

More Efficient Commandments.

Some religions take as many as ten Commandments to lay down their laws. Weegieism, using the latest in data-compression techniques, has significantly reduced the number of Commandments and has also managed to dramatically decrease their stringency. Think of them simply as a Couple of Suggestions, and if you’d rather not, hey, Wee Pal, that’s quite all right, too.

No Sexual Taboos.

Has anything turned more people away from the power above the heavens than the power below their waists? Weegieism doesn’t have this problem because, as a Weegieist you, Friendly Wee Pal, can stick or get stuck however you want with whom or whatever you want whenever or wherever you want. As long as no one gets hurt – or just if they want to – Weegieism says have fun. And be safe.

More and Better Holidays.

Even the most fun-loving religions usually have only half a dozen or so major holidays a year. And often several of these are days of atonement or fasting. Weegieism, on the other hand, features a full complement of 365 full-scale religious holidays a year! 366 for a leap year. And all include presents and feasting.

No Stupid and Dangerous Joining Rituals.

No hitting with sticks. No drenchings in water. No knives aimed at your privates. No bits hacked off your penis. No rolling up of your trouser leg. Need we say more?

No Annual Fee.

Because of low overheads (no Gothic cathedrals to keep up, no sacred texts to maintain, no Crusades to mount) Weegieism is offered to you entirely free! A letter now and again would be nice, but hey, don’t worry about it.

100% Compatibility.

Weegieism does not require you to change or upgrade any of your existing religious or sectarian beliefs. It is in no way mutually exclusive. You can be a Weegieist and anything else you want too, even a Tory.

Leave at Any Time.

No forms to fill out. No one will phone you. You can be a Weegieist one day and something else the next. Change hourly if you’d like. By the second if you’d prefer. Or, be a Weegieist forever. It’s entirely up to you. So, there you have it, Wee Pal, in a nutshell – a pistachio to be exact. With Weegieism, you get all the plusses of other religions with none of the minuses. It’s like having your cake and eating it, too. It is, in fact, like owning the whole baker’s shop. And because you, Friendly Wee Pal, are who you are, and only sometimes somebody else, you have been selected to participate in this charter membership offer. As a Weegieist, you’ll enjoy the benefits of the world’s only computer-designed faith as well as the peace of mind of knowing that if Armageddon does come, it’s not your fault!

So join today and start receiving the benefits immediately. All you have to do is whatever you want. Make no phone calls unless you feel so inclined. Write no letters unless it strikes your fancy. Send no money, unless you want to.

Be a Weegieist or don’t be. You are still surrounded in a warm cone-shaped cocoon of love.

Very sincerely, or perhaps not,

Snakehips McGunnagle

P.S. This offer never expires. Relax and breathe deeply.

The above is obviously nonsense. I know Snakehips, and he is an atheist.

The Nae Luck of Any Kind Awards, and penguins

Following an intense forest fire that burned several hundred acres, firemen were surprised to find a diver, in full wetsuit, fins, mask and tanks, hanging dead from the charred remains of a tree. Investigators were stumped (like many of the trees) at first but eventually came up with a unique theory.

The Scottish Fire Brigades recently began using a helicopter with a drogue that can scoop up large volumes of water from the sea or a loch, fly to the scene of a fire, dump its contents and quickly put out a fire.

Thus the theory is that the diver was scooped up by the plane and dropped over the fire.

A bricklayer working on a three-storey tall chimney had set up a pulley system so that his hod man could raise the bricks up to where he needed them. As he was working, his helper was complaining about how difficult it would be to get the last of the bricks up to the flat roof of the building. Just then, another contractor had some material delivered and it was placed on the roof by a forklift brought to unload it. The bricklayer asked if the driver would load his bricks up there as well, and for a fiver the driver agreed. The brickie realized that he would not need his mate any more and sent him home.

As the bricklayer completed the chimney he noticed that he had quite a few bricks left over and that the forklift was no longer at the site. Now he had to work out how to get the spare bricks back down by himself. If you drop bricks from that height, they break, and it is dangerous. So he decided to use the pulley that he had set up to lower them down.

First he went down to the ground and raised a large metal bucket up to the roof level using the rope and pulley. Next, he tied the rope off on to a railing, climbed back up to the roof and loaded the bricks into the bucket. Then he went back down to the ground.

He knew that the bricks would be heavy, so he wrapped the rope around his hand a couple of times and then untied the end of the rope with his other hand. The bricks were just that wee bit heavier than he had imagined and, with the laws of physics being what they are, he was immediately launched upwards at a high rate of knots.

As he was racing up towards the roof he encountered the bucket full of bricks coming down at an equally fast rate.

He collided with the bucket and broke his nose and his shoulder. The bucket passed him by as he sped upwards. He reached the pulley just before the bucket hit the ground and broke three of his fingers as they were pulled into the pulley. When the bucket hit the ground, it tipped and the bricks spilled on to the ground.

Close your eyes and visualise the scene. As the now light bucket sped upwards, the mason took an eye-watering dunt in the groin when one of his legs slipped into the empty bucket.