PRESS RELEASE FROM LOCAL HEALTH CENTRE

It has come to our attention that our new locum doctor from the middle-east, Sheikh Da Bottle Ali, suffers from a previously undiagnosed case of dyslexia, resulting in some errors in recent referrals and prescriptions.

Could patients please note that artichoke is not a medical term for blocked arteries. Anyone prescribed with Miracle Grow for their artichokes should report immediately to their cardiologist for further tests.

Dr. Sheikh Da Bottle Ali has a particular problem with his ‘oids’, first discovered when irate local resident Big Maggie Ann MacPhee turned up for an appointment at the IT & PC Hardware Repair Department of the local hospital. It was soon discovered that Ms MacPhee had a thyroid complaint, and not an android condition.

However, the chef aboard the island ferry was relieved to resume his daily order of The Sun, The Daily Record and The News of World on Sundays. The reason he vomited in the broth was due to typhoid, not a tabloid.

Finally, a third ‘oid’ mistake was spotted when 'ananbolic steroids' were wrongly prescribed for 'Anna Pollock’s schizoid' condition. Anna should now be considered armed and very dangerous. Any sightings of Anna should be reported to either PC Hugh Dunnett or Sponge Bath Square Bob, who now assists part-time at the local sanitarium.

Could all recent patients who feel they have been misdiagnosed, or if you suspect a wrongly prescribed medication, please call the health centre for advice or leave a comment in the appropriate box below.

MISSING PERSON

Local entrepreneur and aviator Cyril Nosecone, age 73, was last seen on August 12th, beating grouse at a high stakes game of craps. Local police constable, Hugh Dunnett, suspects that after the final flutter, Cyril Nosecone disappeared into a grouse butt and has not been seen since.

When last seen, Cyril was wearing Harris Tweed plus-fours, a maroon, silk smoking jacket and carrying a pack of cards and a large bag of money. Cyril is below average height and might not be seen above large clumps of heather.

Anyone with any information about Cyril or his whereabouts is asked to contact the local police station.
Very guilty-looking grouse, pictured by Fred Twitter.

RECRUITMENT - JOBS VACANT

H.I.S.A. (Highland Island Space Authority) are seeking highly motivated individuals with aeronautical experience, to join their expanding team on the new space mission. (Details of mission to follow.)

Must have a good understanding of clapdarnach fuel and ignition systems, demonstrate ability to supervise large onboard flock of ewes, and prove experience and understanding of alien languages.

Must have own compass, binoculars, wet suit and crash helmet.

Apply below, in comments section, by November 15th, 2009.

(Photograph by kind permission of chief sheep astronaut Rudolpho Kuschelschaf.)

Local fracas due to fuel shortage on the island

Wullie Spanners, proprietor of the local garage, utilised drastic measures (literally) to deal with the current fuel shortage on the island.

Assisted by Daft Uidean, Wullie was seen replacing the fuel pumps with bar optics, then dispensing fifth of a gill measures for petrol and sixth of a gill measures for diesel.

However, customers grew wary when Wullie handed out sausages on sticks and cheese canapés.

When interviewed, PC Hugh Dunnett said, “Customers began calling the station, saying that the petrol tasted suspiciously like Torquil’s cooking whisky. They were unsure if the diesel was really Torquil’s 2007 Clapdaranch Wine or if it was an older vintage.”

By early afternoon, PC Dunnett had made two arrests for breach of the peace and treason, when a pair of staggering Japanese tourist set up a karaoke machine outside Wullie's garage and began singing Sydney Devine songs. Seventeen arrests were made for being drunk and disorderly in a public place.

Commenting further, PC Dunnett asked the public for assistance. “As the jail is currently full, can all guest house owners with B&B vacancies please contact the police station? I need three non-smoking double rooms, one with sea view and mini bar, four twin rooms, two smoking and two non-smokings, and two single rooms with Jacuzzis and vegetarian breakfasts. Handcuffs will be provided until the courthouse opens on Monday morning.

Island Blackmailing - the plot thickens

Island terrorist Al MacQaeda, pictured kneeling down in full Al MacQaeda Highland Island tartan regalia, was spotted 'acting suspiciously' at the marquee tent down at the ferry termial in the wee hours of Saturday night. MacQaeda was 'caught in the act' by ornathologist and keen amateur photographer, Fred Twitter, liaising with his merry band of fellow Al MacQaeda hoodlums, whilst tampering with the electrics.

News just in suggests that the group of rebels were plotting to pull the plug during the third half of Saturday night's ceilidh, when they were interrupted by Fred Twitter's camera flash.

PC Hugh Dunnett said, "We are not sure at this point what Al MacQaeda planned to do once the lights were out."

When asked if he thought that this attempt to pull the plug was connected to Torquil's recent blackmail letter, PC Dunnett said, "We can't rule out anything at this point but can I ask everyone not to panic, to stay alert, and to report any further suspicious behaviour to the local police station.”

He continued, “Meanwhile, I am studying Fred Twitter’s photograph very carefully and trying to establish the identity of the other Al MacQaeda rebels. If you recognize anyone in the photograph, please contact me immediately by leaving a message in the comments section below.”

Ah! I'm being blackmailed

I deciphered the message – “Surrender your clapdarnachs.”

Who would want to threaten me?

(Darn, I forgot to pay my garage bill to Wullie Spanners.)

Mystery Hate Mail?

I received a sheet of plain paper in the mail, with four giant words cut from newspaper headlines pasted on the front.

CRUNCHED DRY SNORER SLURP!

Is there a dyslectic blackmailer on the island?

or. . .

Is it an anagram?

Help?

Scottish Highland Island Tourist Enterprise

In a recent meeting at the Dangly Crystal Balls Dance Hall, the ladies of the church knitting guild decided to form a volunteer tourist information group, calling themselves the Scottish Highland Island Tourist Enterprise.

S.H.I.T.E. will be available down at the Dangly Crystal Balls Dance Hall from 10 a.m. until 11 a.m. and from 3 p.m. until 4 p.m., Monday to Friday to coincide with the arrival of the morning and afternoon ferry. Initially the service will be available only during the busy tourist season.

Members of S.H.I.T.E. elected Edith Twatt as chief coordinator, due to her extensive experience designing and erecting signposts in the Orkney isles. Edith is picutred here beside one of her self penned autobiographical signs. Well done Edith!

Dippy Seamus tries to fathom new road network

Every time Dippy Seamus lays some tarmac he changes his mind and alters the direction of the roads. Mayhem rules and traffic remains at a stand still.

Big Maggie Ann is getting awful cross, as she can't get to the beauty salon.

(Trust me, she needs to go!)

Farquar Bogg Promises Jim'll Fix It!

In a desperate dash to restore the island’s road network, Farquar Bogg of the Agriculture, Rumba-dancing and Sanitation Department, consulted with Coinneach, the psychic crow, in a top secret meeting down at the wool shop.

At 1:30 p.m on Monday, PC Hugh Dunnett, accompanied by Woodworm Willie’s three-legged sniffer dog, Tripod, inspected the back room of the wool shop for bugging devices. PC Dunnett then radioed an ‘all clear’ message to Farquar for the meeting to begin at 2 p.m. and stood guard in the corridor outside the door.

Meanwhile, in the back yard, local window cleaner, Phillip MacBucket, reported the following conversation coming from the building.

“Thanks for coming so quickly, Coinneach,” said Farquar.

Coinneach puffed out his feathers and answered smugly, “I got here as the crow flies.” Then, tapping his foot rhythmically, the wise crow entered a trance and offered these words of wisdom concerning the mayhem caused by the Antique Road Show. “Caw. Jim’ll fix it!”

Later that evening, local jazz musician and island’s IT specialist, Hacker Bilk, divulged that Farquar Bogg received an ‘out of the office’ reply from his email to Sir Jimmy Saville. Hacker said that Farquar Bogg remained positive and wrote to various other Jims, looking for a quick fix.

Jim McColl, of Beechgrove Garden fame, replied, saying, “Sorry, I can’t help re-pave the roads just now Farquar. I’ve spilled fence paint on my corduroys, causing a bad case of greenfly.” In another reply, James Taylor said that he’d seen fire and he’d seen rain, he’d seen sunny days that he thought would never end, he’d seen lonely times when he could not find a friend but, sorry, he couldn’t see a way to fit the roads back together again.

Morag the librarian added to the report. “Running out of Jims, Farquar Bogg entered the library van and asked for a Gaelic dictionary from the reference section. He opened it and dragged his index finger down until it rested on ‘James’. “Aha! Of course. . . Seamus,” he exclaimed. When the ladies from the knitting circle called out, “Shhh!”, Farquar inhaled a deep breath and ran out to telephone Dippy ‘Seamus’, Daft Uisdean’s cousin, from the public phone box across from where a road used to be.

“Hello, Dippy Seamus,” he said. “Coinneach Crow said that you would help me to put all the roads back where they belong. Can you do it, please?” A smile of relief spread across Farquar’s face. “You can? Great! Meet me at the ferry terminal in ten minutes.”

To be continued. . .

Meanwhile, Big Maggie Ann walked into the pub with a slab of tarmac under her arm. "A pint of Tenants," she said, "and one for the road."

Farquar Bogg hits out at Michael MacAspel

During last night's six o'clock news, an urgent plea hailed from Farquar Bogg of the Agriculture, Rumba-dancing and Sanitation Department. "Could everyone please switch off their JCB engines and listen," he shouted.



A quiet hush spread across the highland island. No one had ever seen Farquar so agitated before.


"Thanks to Michael MacAspel's offer to value pieces of antique roads, the island has been stripped completely barren of its entire transportation infrastructure – in short,” he shouted, “there are no roads leading from or going anywhere.”

While the patrons of the bar down at the ferry terminal could be heard cheering and calling for a lock-in, phone calls began to flood into the local emergency services from distressed islanders in need of assistance.

A furious Big Maggie Ann dialed the local police station to say that the post van, stranded on the north side of the island, contained her eBay purchases and, in particular, she needed the ‘Full set of dentures – BNWTs (Brand New with Tobacco stains)', for a date tonight.

Local funeral home director, Woodworm Willie, telephoned the mortuary to report that the hearse, complete with deceased occupant, was stuck in the middle of a hump-backed bridge, and if the high evening temperature did not drop he would be forced to lower the corpse by rope into the cool of the river below.

“The biggest catastrophe,” Farquar claimed, “is down at the ferry terminal, where enormous mountains of tarmac have been dumped.” He shook an angry fist in the air. “As chairman of the local Agriculture, Rumba-dancing and Sanitation Department, I demand that next Sunday’s filming of the Antique Road Show is cancelled. Michael MacAspel should be held accountable for the mayhem he has caused.”

The incoming evening ferry turned back to the mainland, as landing proved impossible.

Antique Road Show

The island’s own Michael MacAspel will be hosting another outdoor Antique Road Show, to be filmed on Sunday August 30th at 3 p.m. down at the Ferry Terminal.

Anyone with any pieces of antique roads are invited to bring them along for valuation, including drove roads, yellow brick roads, roman roads, fender roads, zara or gary roads, rolling roads, or take me home country roads.

During the commercial break, by kind permission of PC Hugh Dunnett, a dangerous cycle path will be on view outside the padded cell behind police station.

Entry is free but please register your exhibits in advance by logging them in the comments section below.

Looking for a good read?

The ladies of the church guild knitting circle propose the following book recommendation.

‘Disappearance of a Sheep Masseur’ by Torquil Mor

Synopsis – Can you really make a sheep talk using the ancient highland art of sheep massage? Sponge Bath Square Bob has an unusual talent. A geriatric nurse to trade, through sheep massage he can also enter the minds of the flock and persuade them to divulge the latest hot gossip.

What do the sheep tell him that leads to his mysterious disappearance?

P.C. Hugh Dunnett embarks on a course of Indian head massage and Woodworm Willie learns the art of reflexology in a race against time to decipher random bleats. Can they gather enough clues to find Sponge Bath Square Bob before they call last orders at the local pub? And what secrets are the sheep so eager to protect?


Book reviews by some members of the church guild knitting circle –

Annie (Trombone player with the Glenpuddle and Monroe First Crofters’ Brass Ensemble, est 1862).

“I began to read this book while on tour with Jóhann Þór Jóhannsson of the Asiatic Eskimos of Reykjavik Disco Dancers. I’m still on page two as I have a question: do you think Sponge Bath Square Bob removes his blue Marigold gloves before he begins the sheep massage?”

Ruby Hazelnut (Dance instructor with the Dancing by Numbers Group)

“Thrilling book! I am so enthralled by this read that I am currently numbering a choreography sequence so that my dance group can interpret a sheep massage through dance. We will be using both No. 1 left and No. 2 right hands in backward rotating motions, together with hand stands and cartwheels in order to portray this ancient art. The dance will end with the sacrifice of a goat, up on Ben Doon, in order symbolize the loss of Sponge Bath Square Bob.”

Maggie Ann MacPhee offered numerous additional critiques, spontaneously calling out from the back of the room during the course of the book review session. Unfortunately, due to censorship of the vulgarity, none of these comments can be published and the book review committee decided to increase her medication for Tourette syndrome, adding a bottle of Blue Nun to her IV drip for safe measure.

Julio Fernando asked Torquil Mor if he could have a copy of the book translated into Spanish for his mother in Mexico City.

Ewe Tube Clip – Racial Segregation in the Flock

When Torquil’s Blackface flock excluded poor Isobel the Icelandic sheep from their patch of grass again, reporter Donachie Redburn the sheep, from Ewe Tube, set out to interview his fellow Blackfaces.

-------------------
Donachie calls out to the flock - “Hello over there! Hi, Sheilagh. Good morning, Declan, Dave, Dermot, Big Dougal and Deirdre.”

General muttering from all – “Quick, look busy. Eat some grass.”

Donachie approaches Big Dougal first – “Dougal, is it true that you’ve excluded Isobel the Icelandic sheep from the flock?”

Big Dougal looks over to Declan and Dave, with a very sheepish expression – “Baa!”

Donachie – “Aw come on Big Dougal. Don’t play innocent with me.”

Big Dougal moves away and the rest of the sheep tag on behind in single file – “Baa!”

Donachie, remembering that he’s an intellectual sheep, musters every last ounce of energy and fights an incredible urge to fall into line and blindly follow them. Once he regains strength, he turns his attention to Isobel the Icelandic sheep – “Hello Isobel. Welcome to the flock. Glad to see that you’re settling in around here. How do you like living on the highland island?”

Isobel – “Baah! Baah! Baah!”

Donachie – “Ah, sorry Isobel, I . . . eh . . . don’t speak Icelandic.”

Isobel shouts – “BAAH! BAAH! BAAH!”

Donachie startles so much that he forgets his breeding and trots off after the Blackface flock – “Baa!”

(Editor’s note – this translates as “Wait for me guys!”)

Police announce crime scene reconstruction

Following a serious case of arson, where a notable building on the island was destroyed, PC Hugh Dunnett has announced that a crime scene reconstruction will take place down by the ferry terminal at 10.00 pm on Friday 14th August, 2009.

He is appealing for help from the general public to provide donations of petrol, firelighters, home-made napalm incendiary devices, WWII hand grenades, cluster bombs, flamethrowers and matches, together with any excess wood, nails and building tools required to rebuild a replica of the notable building. A charity raffle will be held to decide who lights the match at the crime scene reconstruction, with proceeds being donated to the ladies’ church guild knitting circle.

Meanwhile, please take a careful look at the ashes pictured below. If anyone can recognize the notable building from these ashes, please call the local police station, as PC Dunnett has not yet been able to identify the notable building or its location.

Daft Uisdean gets a wellie on the property ladder

Following the sale of his shed, Daft Uisdean has now purchased a stunning new home on the island's west coast.

This well-equipped abode boasts modern open-plan features, with combined living, sleeping and dining areas.

An eco-friendly home, the design also assures that Uisdean is totally prepared for global warming and rising sea levels.

Anyone wishing to donate a three-piece suite in either moss green or lilac, a four poster bed with feather mattress, or bidet in sunshine yellow, would greatly assist Uisdean's refurbishing budget. Please submit all other offers of furniture in need of freecycling by adding comments below.

Hunting High and Low

I searched everywhere! I even looked in all the places where cobwebs grew faster than the hair on Big Maggie Ann's chin -- in the bedpan under mother's bed, in the glove compartment of Woodworm Willie's leg, in Daft Uisdean's underpant drawer, and even in the wallet belonging to the boy that plays down at the hotel. . . For weeks I've been rummaging through Jean's pins and needles in the woolshop and Wullie Spanners' nuts and bolts at the garage.

Finally . . .

You'll be pleased to hear . . .

I found the password to this site.

Have a guess where I found it? Answers on a postcard please, for a chance to win a Heathkit & Robinson Mk2A Sausage Machine.

Flying Sheep spotted over island

This photograph was taken by fisherman Duncan Ferris-Crabbs this morning, as the flying sheep swooped down over his trawler, Big Maggie Ann III.

Today's Island Courier reported, "Once again, Torquil's flying sheep have been spotted over the minch and island air traffic controller, Harry Uppenland, is livid. Harry said, "Torquil's flying sheep pose a perilous threat to both incoming and outgoing air traffic on the island and we must urgently install sheep scarers around runway perimeters. I have submitted the appropriate grant proposal to D.A.S.A.R.D. (The Dept. of Agriculture, Sanitation and Rumba Dancing). Up until now we have only had to deal with risks imposed by flocks of birds but thanks to the new Highland Island Enterprise Scheme, offering flying lessons to rural crofters, flocks of sheep have managed to bypass red tape and qualify for places on flying courses. This poses a grave threat to the future safety of air traffic control."

So far, Harry Uppenland reports that he has only had to deal with single sheep, as photographed above, but he says the reality of large numbers of sheep flying in flocks is becoing a huge concern.

D.A.S.A.R.D. report that they are seeking advice from local pilot and international entrepeneur, Cyril Nosecone and we will publish Cyril's reply in due course.

Cyril Nosecone aims for new heights

Cyril, pictured right, has embarked on an intensive new flight training programme.

Local bird enthusiast, Fred Twitter, was on hand to photograph Cyril’s progress.

Good luck with the test flight, Cyril!

Tripod gets framed

Woodworm Willie has been concerned about his dog, Tripod, for some time now. “His eyesight is just not what it used to be,” says Willie.

My friend Willie scratched his stump and continued. “On the night that Tripod found Sponge Bath Square Bob’s hand, he should have known that the hand was still attached to Square Bob’s arm.”

I asked Willie what could be done and he replied, “I’ve taken Tripod to the vet mannie for a full eye sight evaluation.

Hamish the bearded clam diver was on hand to capture the intense mood with a few photos, as Tripod was being examined. A full report will be issued soon.