WHIT’S the world coming to? When a former First Minister and a former SNP chief cannae bury one wee body in their ain garden?
There may no be an independent Scotland, but ma garden’s ma ain, ken? And if ma husband and I have been doing a bit a late-night digging, whit business is it of yours?
The English media are all ‘this is a disaster for the SNP’. And A’m ‘this is nothing to do with the SNP. A bad Deliveroo order is nothing to do with the SNP. It coming withoot sweet-n-soor ribs is not the SNP’s fault. Wheesht.’
Thit’s all thit happened. The pair of us are a wee bit stressed, we order Chinese, the guy’s cheeky on the phone when there’s no need and it arrives withoot the ribs. Pure liberty.
And aye, it’s ma husband skelps him the first blow. Fair takes the top of the Deliveroo lad’s heid off with the scraper we keep by the door. And A can see where the wind’s blowing so A join in and chibbed him, because A’ve some frustrations of ma ain from recent times.
He’s deid in seconds. He didnae suffer. It’s us who suffered with no Chinese and having to get the spade oot and dig a shallow grave. Fair ruined the night.
Now the polis are round and it’s all SNP finance scandal. It’s no the SNP. It’s no but a wee murder like you’d see on Taggart in the day. So och awa’ and dinnae talk pish.
