Last night I was glitzing it up at trendy PR venue The Centre for the launch of Zoe's magnum opus, "My Boyfriend is a Tw@" - the book. It was quite a bash, with journos, celebrity bloggers, even a European Commissioner, which outranks real royalty in Belgium. The fragrant Margot Wallstrom (for it was she) actually announced the full title of the book without batting an eyelid, and then used the T-word again - twice, and correctly - when talking about certain visitors to her own blog. I do hope someone has briefed her that it's not a word you should go bandying around the Berlaymont willy-nilly. If Commissioner Mandelson heard her say such a thing he might have a fit of the vapours. Zoe has recently been asked if she would agree to the blog being studied for GCSE meedja studies or something. I can foresee some apoplectic parents when young Chardonnay comes home with her homework.Anyway, Zoe was looking lovely in royal purple, as befits the Queen of Blog, the Tw@ himself looked spiffy in a suit and signed my copy of the book under the disclaimer "It's all lies". Rather postmodern canapes were passed around and inhaled in seconds, and it was all terribly well-behaved. The bloggers scrubbed up quite well, Spanish Goth was in his best opera cloak and I met some friendly Belgian blogging fans of Zoe and the Tw@, one of whom, Bibil, has posted a photo of the happy couple on her blog.
Apparently my new hairdo is knocking everyone sideways. Can't imagine why, I only popped in for a quick wash-and-blow-dry the other day and have apparently come out looking like Angelina Jolie. At the time I complained about having to pay 8 euros (5 quid!) for a dollop of hair conditioner ("a treatment" they call it), but judging by the amount of compliments I have received, I now think it was a wise investment.Today is St Andrew's Day. In Poland, all chaps with the first name Andrew (Andrzej in Polish) are entitled to have an "Andrzejki" party. It's like having two birthdays, unless of course you were born on 30 November, which is just tough turkey. The only two saints who get to have a special party named after themselves are Andrew and Barbara, who are very important to the Poles for reasons too long to look up on Wikipedia right now. Saint Andrew was the brother of Saint Peter, and bits of him are buried in Patras, Greece. Babs' feast day is next week (4th December) and I shall be telling you all about her then.
So happy Andrzejki to all you Andrews, Drews and Andys, out there, and to all my admirers in bonny Scotland. St Andrew is also, as you all know, the patron saint of Scotland (as well as of Romania and Russia) and his feast is also the Scottish National Day. Sadly I couldn't find any pictures of a famous Scottish Andrew to post up, but here are some reminders, ladies, of why we love those rugged hairy sporrans north of the border (except when they come down south and move into 10 Downing Street) :
The Big Yin
The even bigger Yin. Does Sir Bond keep his moneypenniesin his shporran, I wonder?
Honorary Scotsman Liam Neeson, as the virile Rob Roy McGregor.
Also a Big Yin, if the stories are to be believed.
Also a Big Yin, if the stories are to be believed.
Yet another Big Yin, Robbie Coltrane. There wasn'tenough tartan in Scotland to make him a kilt
Hamish Clark (Duncan from Monarch of the Glen).A wee yin, but beautifully put together.
Ewan McPhwoarr. Well, his head anyway.
Doctor McWho
Wee Jock and his co-star in "Hamish MacBeth"
And my personal favourite:
JOHN (WE'LL SET ABOOT YA) SMEATON
The hero of Glasgow airport
Ye can set aboot me ony time, big man
16 comments:
Size, as I always say...
There's a rich seam of material here. Cabers, sporrans, scruttocks, Ben Nevis, Ben Doon and Phil Whateverhisnameis, etc.
He was injured in the Trossachs, etc.
Is there money in the box?
No, I'm in here mysel'
The world seems to be full of fake Scotsmen. Rod Stewart is one (according to Misssy) and I'm sure Dr Maroon said that Sean Connery is Spanish. Thank heavens there are no fake gorillas.
thanks for the write-up, daffers, old girl - and thank you for coming along :) i'll probably write up about it tomorrow - am knackered.
check on marianne for me will you - i'm worried about her.
It took me a while to figure out that I shouldn't be talking [to my mother] about 'the blogger whose boyfriend is a tw@'. Didn't even know what tw@ is...that's what happens when you live at the end of the world, you don't know *things*.
Now, it's 'Zoe in Belgium'.
You left out Mel Gibson, the yummiest Scotsman with the 1/2 Aussie accent.
Och, Doc, there'll be nae Scotsman jokes on this blog, I'd be too feart of my granda's shade coming back, drinking the contents of my cocktail cabinet and peeing on the carpet. Not to mention the webmeister who might do something very very nasty. I'm counting on him to track down the little oik who spray painted my garden wall.
GB, McChe agrees that Rod Stewart is a fake Jock. He doesn't even live in Scotland. A bit like, er, McChe. Fake gorillas - are you kidding? What about King Kong? And those two in East Enders?
Zed my dear, mwah! mwah! (we're "new journalists" now, doncha know). Your book launch was the high spot of the social season, and you were the star of the show. It was all about YOU (for a change). We both got a mention on Margot Wallstrom's blog (in the comments - by her minder I think - who probably writes the blog anyway). I thought my days in the spotlight of international politics were over when I managed to shake off the Libyan secret services. You will probably be asked to speak at the European Parliament now. I would settle for a candlelit dinner with Mandy.
GG - go and wash your mouth out! I hear the sound of porridge snorted out through Scottish nostrils all over the blogosphere. Mel Gibson has nothing to do with Scotsmen. He's not even a real Australian. A much more cuddly and authentic Scotsman for you (who doesn't do controversial religious views or hitting journalists) is
Hardeep Singh Kohli.
He doesn't wear a sporran, but he's got a massive turban. (Thanks for dropping in again - I do read your blog but don't always comment).
Dr McWho - popularly known as David Ten-Inch, apparently!
Kilts, hmm.
Well, what can I say ?
I look fabulous in my kilt*.
Cameron of Ericht, if anyone is asking.
*Even though it was invented by an English factory owner.
NOT Friedrich Engels.
It was nice meeting you too! I now feel like I should have complimented your haircut as well...
Bless you for that Daphne - I almost felt I was there- the launch - and great to see the photo. Alas none of you. I love the Scots - not wild about ex Bond but one must be charitable to the elderly.
St Andrew'w Day is special to me and - unwittingly - it inspired the name of my first-born.
I also wondered if Margot Wallstrom new the other use for the word. She did seem to say it with out worrying :)
Farty, another Big Yin then? Is it a Scottish trait? Don't answer that.
Che, I'm sure you do dear, with your matching Doc Martens and dreadlocks.
Bibil, as you didn't know what my hair looked like before, you are exempted. The damp Brussels weather is not good for my luxuriant chevelure.
Pat, I have an exclusive contract with Allo Allo magazine, which means my picture cannot be posted up anywhere else.
Stu, had I known you were there I'd have introduced myself. You must have left your Viking helmet in the cloakroom, where I stashed my fruitbasket hat.
Who in hell is singing Flower Of Scotland over on the side there?
'Belgian blogging fans.??
two twatty dutch and a partridge infirmary?
(do like the scrumpiffiti though)...
Watch it with that photo of Dr McWho. That particular image firm have come after a couple of bloggers already, and it was very expensive for them.
Sam, that's the only version available on Deezer. It's off an album of rugby anthems. Sounds like some earnest bearded bespectacled folkies in Arran sweaters and corduroy trousers playing on the prow of the Skye ferry. Perhaps Maroon or Farty can help out here.
Goth, what in bejasus is a partridge infirmary? I'll pass on your compliments to the Webmeister. Spread the word - he needs his dinner money for Saturday.
Aunty Em, I don't have my name on the door so I'd like to see them try. They could join those two Libyan secret agents running round Brussels looking for a woman in a flowery hat. It's starting to feel like the closing credits to Benny Hill.
That's awesome
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