First steps to a new life

You know, I’ve hinted to you recently that it may be time to move on from my sadly unsuccessful marriage. There is little chance that my beautiful wife will return to the fold and in any case, last time I saw her, she had developed a bit of cellulite and didn’t look much like the beautiful woman I married all those years ago. She’s put on a bit of weight around her middle and backside which I suppose is a result of too much chocolate, drink and television as the thrills of carnal activities with her young lover start to fade. So like the television, she is now widescreen too! They laugh at me at work you know - “He couldn’t hold on to his wife” or “she had to seek the pleasures of the flesh elsewhere”.  I’ve been reasonable for years now so being able to call her the Widescreen Wife seems fair after all this time.  Yes I know it isn't politically correct to stray into this territory.

Now I wouldn’t like all my fans out there to think that I had been living the life of a monk for the past wee while. Obviously an expert planner like me, occupying a prominent position in Scottish regeneration, is going to attract a lot of female interest.  Buy unlike most members of the RTPI though, I’ve always been attracted to beautiful women and this is reciprocated.  I remember one day I was out with the boy having a slap-up meal at Burger King in Elgin when this beautiful young gal sat down opposite us. I don’t mind telling you that when she started squeezing her tea bag my mind turned to other things.

A friend of mine suggested the other day that I might find a new wife on the Internet. Yes there are a lot of horror stories about people taking advantage of women called Svetlana from Belarus but there are also women called Svetlana McDonald who are ’at it’ over here - looking for a husband with a fishing boat in Peterhead for example. But to get back to my point, I wouldn’t say no to a game of chess with a Russian Grand Mistress. What do you think?

So if your name is Tatiana and you are reading this, please get in touch! You will be made to feel most welcome at my humble abode and we can start cleaning the place up and doing the dishes. There’s also a bit of sewing to do and after that I would take you out for a nice fish supper as a reward! We can talk about town planning for hours and you will never be bored again.

Looking forward to hearing from you in due course!

My terrible week

You know, it's been a terrible week - it's taken a long time for me to sit down and give you the benefit of my expert planner’s view of the latest events in Aberdeen. The double whammy last Thursday of the rejection of the magnificent proposals for Union Terrace Gardens designed by Sir Ian Wood and Keppies followed by Wee Stewartie Milne's withdrawal of the exciting New Pittodrie proposals for Aberdeen Football Club have dealt me a hammer blow.  My goodness - next thing will be the cancellation of the magnificent Western Peripheral Route.  I haven’t talked about that before but it's a magnificent strip of concrete and tarmac that will blitz vacant farmland with new development and bring new riches to the good people of the City. They certainly deserve it!

So one minute I've been angry and aggressive - the next, I've been blubbering intae ma keyboard. I found myself sobbing uncontrollably as I drove home that evening - I was weaving about on the road searching for the hankie in my trouser pocket. I imagined I saw armies of proles and philistines taunting me with their half eaten fish suppers and cans of Irn Bru.  I drove straight at them! They think they have won but let me tell you, Sir Ian and Dr Stewartie will be back!

You know, rich and clever people didn’t get where they are today by putting up with the stupidity of Labour councillors with their heads in the trough of the pigswill that is their limited ambition. People have said that Scotland is a frightened wee country -  I agree entirely. But you will see that Sir Ian will return with a new tactic that will forever sweep away the perverts, sheepshaggers and animal rights activists that inhabit the derelict gardens.

You know, a friend of mine told me recently that his young daughter had seen a young football supporter pleasuring himself on one of the benches in the Gardens while one of his friends drank a bottle of fortified wine. I won’t say what football team they were supporting but it is clear that this sort of thing is going to keep happening as long as Union Terrace Gardens exists and as long as Pittodrie is on its current site within the city.

It's a planning issue - and also a moral one.  The Labour Group have said no to the proposal - that is, no to progress, no to economic development, no to enterprise and no to beautification - but they've said yes to perverts, sex maniacs and drunkards!  Thankfully there is no doubt that this situation will be corrected and the matter resolved in favour of common sense and decency.

But what about me? Well sometimes I feel I just can’t go on. The forces of darkness seem to be in the ascendancy. Here at my lovely wee Auchterness the rain is fair pelting down - both literally and metaphorically! Just when I thought that development led planning spearheaded by a vigorous and dynamic property development industry was victorious, the black rancid syrup of the Labour Party seeps under my door to clog up the works.

My personal life has not improved - I will write more on that later but suffice to say that my young son is being brought up very badly by my beautiful wife and her young lover. He is a young hooligan now and it grieves me to say that he is becoming a Ned and a future member of the Tory party.  A selfish young fool with no respect for his elders. He doesn’t want to see me anymore so our happy weekends when we used to go to visit retail parks across the country are a thing of the past - just a little warm memory in the cold world of junket loving, spineless, unambitious, public sector nincompoops.  I will leave it at that for now but we will talk again soon.  Till then, Cheerio.

That electric feeling

You know, I haven't written to you since my post in January of this year.  I'm ashamed of that although one person commented and said they were glad that I had stopped blogging.  Yes I've thought about giving up my lovely wee blog because there isn't much more to say.  It is already victorious in its assertion that planning has been vanquished and that the property development industry has triumphed over the petty bureaucrats. Auchterness, Dave Thompson and others like me have won!  These include Dr Donald Trump, Sir Ian Wood and Sir Ewan Jamieson of Clydeport - long may his apron and compass dangle free!

I was in Aberdeen the other day.  You all know what I think of that marvellous city -  the buzz of unfettered enterprise coursing through its veins is absolutely infectious. Spellbinding!  I had a bit of business to attend to in the morning but in the afternoon I went to Duthie Park.  It's a popular public park but also a well known retreat for vagrants and down and outs - in other words, a bit like Union Terrace Gardens.  As I was licking my nice wee cone, it suddenly struck me that this would make an excellent development site.  In fact, why hadn't it been developed as a housing site or a business park - both!?  You know, we planners have to be a bit less backwards about coming forwards - as an expert planner I am full of good ideas like this and others should follow my example. Ideas like that would endear any planner to Wee Stewartie Milne and the other dogs of war prowling around the city's property market.

Later down at the docks I picked up a puncture.  I sat in the car waiting for the AA to show up and wondered about this magnificent city. I felt I was sitting in a dynamo of economic growth. I was intensely aroused by the sparks of enterprise crackling around me with their pounding pistons of profit and the arcing blue flashes of free enterprise generating a blizzard of well being fuelled by the turbines of growth. It's a completely unique feeling that you only experience in World Cities like Aberdeen or New York.

I had just been in Union Square, the new indoor shopping mall beside the railway station that also has a giraffe according to the web -  although I didn't see it. The Mall was crammed full of shoppers enjoying a little bit of retail heaven. It was a thrilling experience - so different from the derelict rat-infested slum that is Union Street. I was literally perspiring with the pure pleasure of it all. Even my cup cake was perfect!

Half and hour later I was still waiting on the AA when I was approached by a lady of the night. She was licking her lips and looked as though she needed a sausage supper, perhaps with mayonnaise on the side.  She asked me if I was from these parts. I said no but mentioned my important position at Auchterness and I'm pleased to say she knew immediately what I was talking about.  Apparently the great developments at The Best Golf Course in the World have been the subject of much discussion in her line of business.  Clearly it has been identified as a growth area - just as I have been saying for years.  Those whingeing mealy-mouthed windbags who have tried to play down the dramatic effects of Dr Trump on the local economy of Aberdeenshire must be eating their humble pie now. I'm thinking of the farmers' wives who queued up at Dyce airport to polish Dr Donald's shoes on his frequent trips to his homeland here or the local plumbers who are in a u-bend of ecstasy at the thought of the vast quantity of work clearing drains at the Trump golf course. This is trickle-down in real-life action!  Don't knock it!

The AA eventually turned up and I was on  my way again.  I know this has been a bit of a ramble but perhaps it will get me writing again.  See you soon and remember, if you are ever in Auchterness please drop in for a wee cup of tea and a natter.  You're always welcome!