For all Trump’s mighty command of the English language he is definitely not impartial to using the word ‘fake’. And, I think he is also fully cognizant with its meaning. Like he understands ‘big’ and ‘sad’ and ‘bad’. Other mighty words in the vocabulary and his favorites.
However, ‘fake’ has become very much his own little mantra word and he is running avidly with it. In a big way you could say. Great even. Fake this, fake that, fake most things, apparently. Apart from the president himself of course. Except for maybe the hair bit.
But that’s America and I suppose you can buy everything. Well apart from a decent command of the English language, that is.
Anyway, enough of politics. It’s all about as annoying as that BBC 3 presenter Ian McMillan’s voice and the bird Steph who pitches up on Breakfast TV and drowns us out with her hideous vowels sounds. This mid-England regional fad is incredibly irritating.
The nags have been running awfully badly as of late and been about as inspirational as watching a Scottish football premier league match. My pal went to watch Hearts last Saturday against Aberdeen and said it was appalling. The major entertainment was in watching an Aberdeen supporter pick up the pitch-side microphone and strike the Hearts defender on the leg.
I suppose the chap may have been just a very bad loser or thought it was somehow fair game. You know the kind of reasoning like ‘well the microphone was just lying there and the Hearts guy was on the deck to I thought I’d just assault him’ A bit of a supporters off-pitch professional foul I suppose. If there is such a thing? There is certainly the on-pitch professional foul I gather and maybe it’s just spread.
Unfortunately it wasn’t off-camera though and so it didn’t turn out to be this fan’s brightest move ever. A visit to Edinburgh Sheriff Court endorsed that.
A friend caddied for the American actor Bill Murray and said he was a wee bit self-obsessed. And I suppose this is probably to be expected given his stature and apparent fame. Albeit, this doesn’t give the man a right to be objectively rude, as he intimated to the waitress in the Carnoustie eaterie that she should get her nose done. Sorry Bill but if that was an attempt at humour it missed the mark. And badly by all accounts. In fact, I would rather suggest that your nose was lucky to be intact after that chat. As my hunch is that even the most feminine flower in Carnoustie is nae a shrinking violet.
Otherwise life chugs along. The bistrot in Edinburgh should be open in February. 2019 that is. Yes, it’s taken two years to get to here, but the walls are coming down, the builders are in and we are just awaiting the license to come through and a bit of inspiration on the name.
This is hard. Naming a restaurant is very, very hard. I like The Inebriated Duck, but it’s hardly Sicilian. Sicilian Blue also strikes a chord as does La Bella Sicilia. Alessandros is too South Ken and Upper Roseburn is too subtle and trying to be too clever by far. Alessandro and Co is ok but a bit dull. Little Sicily has been overdone and Quartier Siciliano would need a resident soprano or a waiter called Fabiano.
I just love the Ubiquitous Chip in Glasgow.
Now that is a name.