SNP 1 Alba 2 – Great Result 

There was a wee bit of a stooshie on Twitter a couple of days back when some professor lady took it upon herself to tell people that their faith was all nonsense as the dead can’t rise.  Disappointing, but hopefully I can get a refund on these wee blue tablets.

However, that was nothing compared to the all-out war that broke out when members and representatives of the new Alba party started putting forward their strategy to vote SNP1 & Alba2 in the hope of getting a super-majority into Holyrood.  The SNP then became the first political party in history to hurl abuse and venom at people telling the electorate to vote for them.

I got quite a bit myself – “traitor”, “you’re no’ even Scottish”, “ya Tory c***”.  The last one stung I have to say.  I haven’t been so insulted in a long time, mainly because there’s been a lockdown and I haven’t actually gone anywhere.

If you’ve got more patience than me you could try explaining to the arithmetically challenged that giving their list vote to the SNP is like setting fire to your ballot paper.  I don’t get why they can’t/won’t understand it.  It wouldn’t be so bad if they were open to a reasoned discussion on the matter, but it’s a bit like asking Ivar the Boneless if he’d mind not sacking your monastery.

Just today I read that the Alba Party is actually a ploy set up by Westminster to take votes away from SNP1/2 and therefore prevent the SNP from getting an overall majority.  What you can take from that is if you wake up during the night, lean over to check the time on your clock, crack your skull on the edge of the bedside cabinet and erase all your education back as far as Primary 3, you still won’t be as thick as that guy.

Looking at the numbers and scenarios, I HAVE to do the very thing that I really don’t want to do and vote SNP in the constituency ballot if I want our excellent Alba candidate returned on the list.  If the people here voted out the SNP then there’s a good chance that they’d get the list seat and not Alba.  Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.  Not so much hold your nose and vote SNP as put full NBC suit on with an oxygen tank strapped to your back.  (In the early stages of the pandemic I actually used to don one of these NBC suits every time I went round to the newsagent’s.  I wasn’t scared of the virus, more that the neighbours might see me with my old dear’s Daily Express.)

The other good thing about voting SNP1 of course is that it’d keep Sturgeon’s wack-jobs from sneaking into Holyrood on the list.  Can you imagine all these wee man-hating, power-dressing NS clones proclaiming Alex Salmond’s guilt every time they were let near a microphone?

Still, it does provide a tenuous link to a really bad joke…

One of my sources revealed that SNP High Command have secretly been in touch with the Roslin Institute, world famous of course for the cloning of Dolly the Sheep.  (As an aside, tell me why on earth anyone would clone a sheep when the damned things all look the same?)

Back to the story and the Institute’s brief was to produce some duplicate Nicolas, created in her very own image, programmed to look like they’d sooked on a lemon at the very mention of “Alick Salmon”, for the special purpose of standing as list candidates.

The hush-hush project was left in the care of Professor “Mad” Maguire who decided to clone himself in the first instance as a sort of beta test before moving onto the real thing.  After lots of trial and error, one dark and stormy night he finally succeeded, but in true Frankenstein style, he found to his dismay that his creation was far from perfect. Instead of being blessed with his razor-sharp intellect, the clone was abusive to all it came into contact with. Think Begbie from Trainspotting in one of his less conciliatory moods and you get the picture.

Worse was to follow as the clone gained in confidence and started venturing out on its own. Simple “good mornings” from the locals, unaware that they weren’t talking to the real Professor Maguire, were met with “**** **** ** *******”. It got so bad that Maguire found himself being shunned in the village. He was kicked out of the golf club, his bairns got bullied at school, and his wife found that she was no longer welcome at the local coffee mornings.

“This experiment cannot continue and I must destroy this monster I’ve created,” he finally resolved. “The SNP can keep the £600k they’ve paid me.”

So one evening when he knew that everyone would be attending a concert in the local community centre, he lured the clone to the ramparts at the top of nearby Rosslyn Castle. Distracting the creature, he quickly moved behind it and hurled it to its demise on the rocks below. However, he hadn’t noticed the two policemen in the nearby squad car who saw the whole drama unfold.

Inevitably, there was a knock on his door shortly after he arrived home. “Professor Maguire,” intoned the constable he found himself face-to-face with. “You are under arrest for making an obscene clone fall…”

A Cybernat

If you’ve enjoyed this article then what’s wrong with you?  You can share it using one of the buttons below though.