Round 234: Hail Caesar!

Darts Thrown: April 25th/26 2019

Blog Written: April 27th 2019

Highest Score: 140

Lowest Score: 7

Sixties: 39
100+: 8
180s Missed: 1

Blogger's Note: Written in haste, so there will be spelling mistakes and slapdash grammar.

Arguably one of my best ever *cough* sessions. Nearly hit a 180 (again), and 3 140s within 5 throws isn't bad in anyone's book. And don't quote me on this but 39 60s may be my best tally, or at least close to it.

Just watched Celtic stumble to a 1-0 victory against a parked bus Kilmarnock. I don't think Lenny's getting the job, as much as I'd like for him to get it. Hopefully Aberdeen get a result against Ranjurs tomorrow, and that will put it all to bed for another season.

The book in the picture? Carl MacDougall's The Light's Below.  Have I read it? I have; many, many years ago. It was during my read any author with Mac or Mc in their surname phase. (A longer phase than you might think.) That's not the copy I read. That's long gone. The copy of the book in the picture I picked up for a dollar at The Strand on Broadway. Christ, I miss that bookshop. Loved it. Or at least, I loved the bookcarts outside the shop with all the cheap books that they were trying to punt. I spent many a happy hour scouring through all the old books.

Did I enjoy the book? To be honest, I can't remember. It must be twenty years since I've read it. However, I have read MacDougall's Stone Over Water twice, and that's a novel I really enjoyed. It was very much in the same spirit as Alan Spence's Glasgow novels and short stories, and that can't be a bad thing.

A couple of links:

• A nice wee blogpost about the late Billy McNeill and how he forged his connection with Celtic.
• Carl MacDougall's discussing the short stories of Iain Crichton Smith.

Stone Over Water by Carl MacDougall (Minerva 1989)

Tuesday, Aprll 22:
Helen ls too attentive. I think she knows more than she pretends to know which would not be hard since she pretends to know nothing.

Miranda's eyes are everywhere. On Monday I phoned her and she phoned me today. The message is always the same.

Last night I went to the attic and found three pages typed on the Underwood. It's bad enough discovering your father was a closet radical without extra evidence arriving daily.

If I find more of my father's writings, I'll burn them.

SOME OBSERVATIONS ON SCOTTISH DEFINITIONS WITH A VIEW OF THE NATIVE PHILOSOPHY

The ensuing remarks are not intended to trespass upon the domain of such specialist publications as The Scottish National Dictionary or Dwelly's Gaelic-English Dlctionary. I merely wish to inform our English and foreign visitors of certain usages which are common throughout the Lowlands, Borders and most tracts of the English-speaking Highlands and Islands.

HOW SCOTSMEN DEFINE EACH OTHER

A Braw Bugger(1)
One who can shite(2) with the best of them.

A Dour Bugger
One who cannot shite yet refuses to take the medicine.

A Thrawn Bugger
One who can't shite, takes the medicine yet refuses to shite.

A Canny Bugger
One who can't shite, takes the medicine, still can't shite, returns the medicine and has his money refunded.

An Uncanny Bugger
One who can't shite, takes the medicine, won't shite, returns the medicine, has his money refunded, then shites.

Note that the Braw Bugger and the Uncanny Bugger, the alpha and omega of this spectrum, have one common characteristic - their bodily functions are unimpeded by normal imperatives.

1: The term bugger when applied by one Scotsman to another has no sexual significance, even even in sheep-rearing parishes. Since, to the Scot, a man is the highest form of created life, to call a man 'a man' is to overpraise him.

2: The male Scot prefers excretion ro sexuality because, although both are equally inevitable, the first is less expensive.