SPOTTED (published April 3 2000)
Despite rigorous efforts by local councils to ban wasps from public places, several sightings of the winged irritants have been reported throughout the country. This signals the official start of summer.
It is expected that many thousands of erstwhile sensible citizens will shortly be seen running around like lunatics in a vain attempt to avoid contact with the insistent little devils.
One man from Tillicoultry who wishes to remain nameless but is in fact the well known warehouse sale announcer Dougie Donnelly, was stung on the arse yesterday as he settled into a Parker Knoll ultimate recliner.
The wasp is understood to have insinuated itself into the upholstery by means of having flown in there from somewhere else, a leading expert said yesterday.
As the nation braces itself for a summer of flailing arms and whoops, the Reckless advises all its readers to stay indoors and seal all possible means of ingress. You have been warned.
The Scottish Parliament is to be seriously sexed up by the inclusion of a mosh pit. The idea, proposed by Dame Davina Style, is based on the aggresive mosh dance popularised in the U.S. in the 1980s, and still continuing today, involving wild limb flinging, jumping up and down and crashing into others.
It is understood the MSPs in the chamber will raise their arms to catch any punters who may wish to hurl themselves from the public galleries into the arena. The ministers would then pass the punter overhead, possibly punching and pinching as they go.
Dame Davina said:
'I think it's a great idea. It was mine you know. It will bring the people closer to the politicians in a very literal way and give the public the chance to see how their ministers represent them in a robust physical fashion.'
Hen Broon, king of Scotland, was yesterday trembling in anticipation at the thought of grappling with the great unwashed.
'Come and have a go if you're Kierkegaard enough!'*, he cried.
Security guards, initially understood to be slightly vexed by the proposals, have subsequently been placated by learning that they are entitled to give punters a good kicking and throw them down the outside stairs.
As the news broke, queues of excited moshers began forming at the parliament in expectation of a good pummeling. They love it, apparently.
*copyright Robert McNeil 2000
POSTPONED (published April 10 2000)
Sopious Soutar, the richest man in all Caledonia, is said to be beelin at the Electoral Reform Society's rejection of his Keep the Clause campaign.
Sopious was hoping to expose his poll in front of the Scottish people but it seems the ERS don't want to play.
The pathetic excuse pedalled by the ERS is that they cannot produce a balanced question to put to voters. We here at the Reckless have a few suggestions:
1. Dear Punter
That should do it. The Reckless says, Let the People Decide and while you're at it why not ask them if they would like free beer and fags and bigger sticks on their toffee apples?
RETURNS (published April 17 2000)
Since the news that Johnny Depp is to play Rabbie Burns in an upcoming movie and Brad Pitt is to star as William McGonagall, there has been a resurgence of interest in Scottish poetry and several ghostly sightings around the globe.
In a Pittenweem chip shop yesterday a punter nearly dropped his deep fried mars bar as Rabbie Burns himself hovered by looking for a white pudding supper. It is understood that since re-emerging on the planet the poet has developed an enormous craving for soggy mush.
Meanwhile in R S McColl's in Dundee a poltergeist type incident involving Tunnocks caramel wafers, several stunned pensioners and a concussed Chihuahua is believed to have been instigated by the troubled spirit of William McGonagall.
Doon Mapantry (an expert) said:
'Aye right then! Obviously the hysteria generated by the thought of yet more Hollywoodification of Scotland has seriously messed with the punters' sense of perspective, i.e. they're a bunch of bams.'
The Reckless welcomes any resurgence of the world's interest in all things Scottish, but poetry? Is that no just for pansified fudgepackers? Apart from the great Rabbie of course, who we like to think of as a great womanising macho rapscallion even if we don't understand a word he wrote. What's wrong with Philistines anyway?
BABIES BUG (published April 17 2000)
Several cases of Boingus Elasticus Syndrome have been reported in maternity units throughout Scotland.
A spokesperson for The Fat Ladies Have Spawned support group said: 'Babies are bouncing all over the wards. No, really. One midwife told me that foam walls and ceilings are being installed in all hospitals to prevent serious injury from, like, happening and shit.'
It is understood that babies born with a high degree of bouncability are on the increase. They can simply slip from their mothers' wombs and go pinging all over the place. A doctor said yesterday:
'It's true. It would appear that women who chew gum throughout their pregnancy are most at risk from having bouncy bairns. We urge expectant mothers to severely curtail their chuggy habits or someone is going to get hurt.'
As we spoke a tiny toddler came shooting out a nearby ward. Luckily the doctor utilised his vast medical experience and headed it back through the swinging doors and straight into its crib. As medical staff stood by applauding, your intrepid reporter retired to the sanctuary of the A&E department.
CAT P OUTRAGE
(published April 24 2000)
The Campaign Against Thick People (CAT P) initiated by poverty stricken tycoon Brian Soupcan has come under fire from thick people across Scotland.
Iam Dense, spokesperson for the Orange Order Of Intellectually Challenged Kitizens (OOO ICK) grumbled:
'It's no fair. Just cos we dinny understand big words and think Jim Davidson is funny disny mean ti say that we dinny likesay.., eh..ken wot I mean? Yoor panel's gettin' severely pummeled by the way pal if you keep askin me stupit questions an that.'
Brian Soupcan's campaign, ironically believed to have been motivated by sheer stupidity, is understood to be understood by no-one. It would appear the people he is attacking are the very people who have helped him amass his enormous wealth. What an erse.
Although the Reckless condones acts of utter bigotry by millionaires as a matter of principle, we feel that once their fortune begins to crumble it's time to jump ship.
We're with the schemies on this one. The Daily Reckless hereby proudly proclaims, Sing If You're Glad To Be Thick.
The uniquely Scottish trait of miserableness in the face of evidence to the contrary has been officially recognised as a natural part of wur biological make up by medical boffins.
The gene, named grumpius thatllbe right, was identified by leading scientific egghead, Rippling Forehead. He said:
'This is incontrovertible proof that Scots can't help being dour. They are biologically programmed to expect the worse in any given situation.'
As an experiment, several Scottish people were sent to a sun soaked beach in the Carribean. It was found that, upon arrival,the hardy Caledonians pointed ominously upwards and exclaimed en masse, 'It looks like rain.'
The news was greeted with relief by members of the public, several of whom live within spitting distance of the Reckless offices and look decidedly grubby. We asked them for their opinion. Most responded with, 'Eh?' or 'Aye right then.'
The Reckless, while concurring that whatever happiness heads our way we'll pay for it, is now reconsidering its stance on the CAT P issue.
Classic thirties western, Stagecoach, is to be given a 21st century revamp in the light of recent dramatic developments in the bus company of the same name's fortunes.
The John Wayne character, made famous by John Wayne, is to be updated by a Sopious Soutar character, at present muted to be played by that Blakey bloke from On The Buses.
It is expected that the film will feature a central dramatic scene where the brave bus owner and fellow bigots are ambushed while attempting to drive a turbo powered omnibus through the wild gay streets of Edinburgh.
Surrounded by a circle of whoopin an a hollerin poofters, the stoic gang attempt to defend their pernicious prejudices by shouting out names and waving wads of cash around.
As the hapless hypocrites attempt to force their way through any sense of dignity they are ironically swamped by a wave of capitalist retribution in the shape of spectacular losses on the stock market.
Heroically, even as his stocks and shares tumble, the stubborn Sopious, guns blazing and shooting from the hip, makes one last desperate attempt to save face by setting up a referendum.
Digging deep into one of his plastic carrier bags, Sopious produces a small booklet and proclaims:
'I have in my hand a lined jotter. We will have no poofs in our time! Please help me, please.'
As the blubbering fool wobbles off into the sunset, the world is left a better place as peace, love and harmony breaks out all over the place dead fast.
The Reckless says, must we force this shite on our weans?
Dolly clone mania has exploded into the world of haute couture. Our picture reveals the extent to which this horrendous development has manifested itself among the image conscious in Motherwell.