Birthdays– who’d have ’em?
Nearly a year since I revolutionised my shopping and went online.
Methinks oor precious wee yins are among those who’ve suffered most in the lockdowns.
Eeee-ha! That’s me Covid-vaxxed. Fit a relief.
Can you believe it’s nearly a year since the first Covid cases hit the UK?
I suspect we’re all beginning to sound like one of my heroes; the late, great Rikki Fulton’s institutionally pessimistic Reverend IM Jolly.
Fit better wye to lift the spirits during this affa time than tae look back at the good al’ days?
As someone once dubbed the biggest gossip in town, I’m fair strugglin’.
Thanks to Black Monday, it was tatties-ower-the-side to oor happy new year wishes.
Since most folk have probably had a very quiet Hogmanay, let me be one of the first to wish you a happy new year. And cripes, do we all need a good-news, healthy 2021.
How was it for you? Whether you were with family and friends or on your own, I hope you had a happy, relaxing day.
I wish you a very early merry Christmas. That’s because there’s no EE next Friday, but my column will be in Saturday’s Boxing Day paper.
What drama. Live on telly. William Shakespeare couldn’t have written it better. In fact, Oor Willie was responsible for the whole, amazing scenario and put himsellie at the centre of it.
Right after Black Friday and Black Monday came the blackest day of all for our high street stores.
Damnt masks are driving me skite. Of course they’re vital for battling Covid and I’m well hacked off with folk who shun them. But I can’t seem to find one that’s right for me.
Two EE stories this week had my life flashing before my teary eyes.
Tributes have been paid to a "superb" former Evening Express photographer who died at the age of 77.
Three momentous events in one week. Nice-but-nobody-special Joe Biden scrapes through to the US presidency. A lovely couple, who sound like the legendary scientific geniuses Louie and Marie Pasteur, crack the Covid vaccine. And … Mo finally gets her flu jab. Fit next? Trumpie conceding he wisnae swicked?
At last, sense has prevailed. After weeks of protests from the beach-loving public, Aberdeen City councillors have U-turned.
It can happen to anyone, often at the worst possible time.
Up hands if you’re desperate for a roarin’ good laugh to cheer you up?
My spies tell me the stress of lockdown is turning us into harrumphin’ al’ grumpfutticks.
It's like half a century is just yesterday away.
My heart goes out to our young folk who’ve just started university.
Where did it all go wrong? This week I should be laid oot on a sunbed perfecting my tan by an aquamarine pool, sippin’ a cocktail and thinkin’ o’ you peer folkies back in Aiberdeen as the autumn weather kicks in.
Fit next? This pandemic is fair diggin’ in. Plunged into lockdown in March, most of us thought it would all be over by summer – autumn at worst.
It's been a week of Covid firsts. First time at the dentist since October, having missed my six-month check-up and hygienist rake-oot in April.
There may not be a Braemar Gathering tomorrow, but Her Maj seems to have had a superb gatherin’ of her ain folk over the past week.
I am excited, but also infuriated. Monday’s Evening Express brought me the great news of plans to stage an open day in our beloved Bon Accord Baths to mark its 80th anniversary.
I wonder if most of the rest of the UK is having a right good laugh at Aberdeen.