Thoughts From The Abyss
She's a bit of a slapper, Glasgow. A bright orange tart in white high heels, fuelled by Bacardi Breezer, pre-programmed to chew the face off anything male and conscious. Well, male
| 15 Feb 2006
A Comedian's Rant
Sibling Rivalry
If you are a comedian and interested in contributing to Thoughts From The Abyss email: comedy@skinnymag.co.uk
Nice place, Edinburgh, innit? Great views, lovely buildings, and festivals. More culture than a pro-biotic yoghurt drink. Soooo much more upmarket than that blowsy city at the other end of the M8. She's a bit of a slapper, Glasgow. A bright orange tart in white high heels, fuelled by Bacardi Breezer, pre-programmed to chew the face off anything male and conscious. Well, male.
But Edinburgh is a snobby big sister with a soap-opera shady past. When Glasgow was just a country lass who got excited about a peck on the cheek, Edinburgh was a roaring Vice Queen happy to supply sex, drugs and venereal disease straight to your door.
Prostitutes even had their own user-friendly guidebook, 'The Directory of the Ladies of Pleasure." This handy little volume was written in 1775, by a young man called 'Ranger'.
Our bold Ranger listed all the ladies working up on the High Street in the establishments of the time. He was a romantic soul, and given to descriptions that would make any marketing manager blush, he reviewed the girls according to appearance, their temper and their abilities.
He liked Miss Inglis at Mrs Walker's house; "She is remarkably fond of performing the silent flute and can manage the stops extraordinary well. She twists around you like an eel and would not loose a drop of the precious juice of nature, not for a kingdom." She sucks, she swallows…
He's more ambivalent about Miss Moffat. A bit shop worn, being "about 30 years of age and almost worn out in the service. However, she still likes to mumble a piece of gristle." No, I'm not sure what he means either.
But the mighty Lady Agnew had Ranger screaming for the exits. "This drunken bundle of iniquity is about 50 years of age, lusty and tall... She regards neither decency nor decorum, and would as willingly lie with a chimney sweep as a lord. Her desires are so immoderate, that she would think nothing of a company of Grenadiers at one time. Take her all in all, she is an abandoned piece." She might have been an abandoned piece, but what a model of social inclusiveness. It's the sort of thing Jack McConnell would applaud.
Of course, these were the glamour gals, the ones with exotic abilities and teeth and stuff. Most of the ladies hoiking up their skirts weren't in that sort of league. Take Lizzie Brown for example, who was arrested for being a drunken wanton, and sentenced to the stocks.
Now you don't want to be stock standing when you have a hangover. It's bad enough feeling queasy on the bus, but imagine being tied to a post in the street whilst folk line up to hurl the contents of their bins at you – things like rotten veg, dung, jobbies and mud. A decomposing cat or small dog really added something. A good eye and a steady hand were very, very important on stock-chucking day, on account of the fact that Town Guards would be standing close to the chuckee, and, like today's modern constabulary, tended to frown upon getting excrement in the face. This ability to aim accurately could explain why the Scots are so good at darts.
Anyway Lizzie duly got the full farm-fresh facial – well, if the farm is for sewage.
Undaunted, three weeks later, our Lizzie is dragged before the magistrates again, only this time for being a "lewd, drunken wanton". Back goes Lizzie to the stocks. A mere month after this, guess who reappears in the Toll Booth? Yup, none other than crowd favourite Lizzie Brown, who was this time arrested for being a "fornicating, lewd, drunken wanton". You see what Lizzie is doing here? She's climbing the career ladder, expanding her options, multi-skilling, and moving up from a mere wanton, to a fully qualified FLWD wanton, although I can't imagine a non-fornicating wanton. I assume she only had amateur status prior to conviction.
Anyway the city magistrates tired of Lizzie and her madcap ways. She hadn't actually stolen anything of value high enough to get hanged – such as a loaf of bread - so, in desperation, they imposed the one sentence they had left in the armoury. They exiled Lizzie – to Glasgow.
I like to think that the city of Glasgow owes Edinburgh a serious debt here. Every weekend you will see lewd wantons lurching about Glasgow city centre, screaming blasphemy at cars and intent on fornication. They are Lizzie Brown's daughters, free from the danger of a rancid pussy in the face. Well the girls are anyway…
Sibling Rivalry
If you are a comedian and interested in contributing to Thoughts From The Abyss email: comedy@skinnymag.co.uk
Nice place, Edinburgh, innit? Great views, lovely buildings, and festivals. More culture than a pro-biotic yoghurt drink. Soooo much more upmarket than that blowsy city at the other end of the M8. She's a bit of a slapper, Glasgow. A bright orange tart in white high heels, fuelled by Bacardi Breezer, pre-programmed to chew the face off anything male and conscious. Well, male.
But Edinburgh is a snobby big sister with a soap-opera shady past. When Glasgow was just a country lass who got excited about a peck on the cheek, Edinburgh was a roaring Vice Queen happy to supply sex, drugs and venereal disease straight to your door.
Prostitutes even had their own user-friendly guidebook, 'The Directory of the Ladies of Pleasure." This handy little volume was written in 1775, by a young man called 'Ranger'.
Our bold Ranger listed all the ladies working up on the High Street in the establishments of the time. He was a romantic soul, and given to descriptions that would make any marketing manager blush, he reviewed the girls according to appearance, their temper and their abilities.
He liked Miss Inglis at Mrs Walker's house; "She is remarkably fond of performing the silent flute and can manage the stops extraordinary well. She twists around you like an eel and would not loose a drop of the precious juice of nature, not for a kingdom." She sucks, she swallows…
He's more ambivalent about Miss Moffat. A bit shop worn, being "about 30 years of age and almost worn out in the service. However, she still likes to mumble a piece of gristle." No, I'm not sure what he means either.
But the mighty Lady Agnew had Ranger screaming for the exits. "This drunken bundle of iniquity is about 50 years of age, lusty and tall... She regards neither decency nor decorum, and would as willingly lie with a chimney sweep as a lord. Her desires are so immoderate, that she would think nothing of a company of Grenadiers at one time. Take her all in all, she is an abandoned piece." She might have been an abandoned piece, but what a model of social inclusiveness. It's the sort of thing Jack McConnell would applaud.
Of course, these were the glamour gals, the ones with exotic abilities and teeth and stuff. Most of the ladies hoiking up their skirts weren't in that sort of league. Take Lizzie Brown for example, who was arrested for being a drunken wanton, and sentenced to the stocks.
Now you don't want to be stock standing when you have a hangover. It's bad enough feeling queasy on the bus, but imagine being tied to a post in the street whilst folk line up to hurl the contents of their bins at you – things like rotten veg, dung, jobbies and mud. A decomposing cat or small dog really added something. A good eye and a steady hand were very, very important on stock-chucking day, on account of the fact that Town Guards would be standing close to the chuckee, and, like today's modern constabulary, tended to frown upon getting excrement in the face. This ability to aim accurately could explain why the Scots are so good at darts.
Anyway Lizzie duly got the full farm-fresh facial – well, if the farm is for sewage.
Undaunted, three weeks later, our Lizzie is dragged before the magistrates again, only this time for being a "lewd, drunken wanton". Back goes Lizzie to the stocks. A mere month after this, guess who reappears in the Toll Booth? Yup, none other than crowd favourite Lizzie Brown, who was this time arrested for being a "fornicating, lewd, drunken wanton". You see what Lizzie is doing here? She's climbing the career ladder, expanding her options, multi-skilling, and moving up from a mere wanton, to a fully qualified FLWD wanton, although I can't imagine a non-fornicating wanton. I assume she only had amateur status prior to conviction.
Anyway the city magistrates tired of Lizzie and her madcap ways. She hadn't actually stolen anything of value high enough to get hanged – such as a loaf of bread - so, in desperation, they imposed the one sentence they had left in the armoury. They exiled Lizzie – to Glasgow.
I like to think that the city of Glasgow owes Edinburgh a serious debt here. Every weekend you will see lewd wantons lurching about Glasgow city centre, screaming blasphemy at cars and intent on fornication. They are Lizzie Brown's daughters, free from the danger of a rancid pussy in the face. Well the girls are anyway…
Susan Morrison is a resident compere at The Stand and one of the breakfast show presenters for Talk107. You can catch Susan during February at The Stand in Edinburgh on Fri Feb 10, Sat Feb 11, Fri Feb 24 and Sat Feb 25, and at The Stand in Glasgow on Fri
http://www.thestand.co.uk