A night out with Larry 

I have to admit I’ve been partying with a cat, not just any ordinary cat, a cat with a tale.  Now they say animals of the feline kind have nine lives, according to Larry, he’s had more like ninety nine.  After a few whiskas and water, he spilt the milk.  It seems his flat mate was the culprit and not poor old Larry.  He admits he did party, he did do some molly, he did overhear official secrets and said spread ‘em in exchange for a new sofa for his comfort.  He was accused of picking up birds outside the office, but he said he let them all go, too many cameras.

Now all this is lighthearted, dear old Larry got his moment of fame, but to be frank his story is not so removed from the real thing.  The fact that Boris has failed to convince even his own sycophants his time is up as late as last week shows us the turkeys really are voting for Christmas.  While we sit waiting for the next dead duck, we have to be amassing our hoards to secure our future.  As pro Independence campaigners, we don’t need back benchers to dictate.  We really don’t need to prostrate ourselves to anyone, just work on getting those key objectives right.  

The new Prime Minister will have more than a mess to clean up, they will have to focus on a multi faceted crisis beyond most we have seen for many years.  However, as any feline can tell you, the time to strike your prey is when it’s most distracted.  At the moment the rat has been trying to dictate to the cat, but as we all know, the claws are sharp and the instinct fierce.  Though who would want a slice of Boris?

Scotland as a nation has been subservient for too long.  There has been a long standing quiet and polite revolution in the country.  The rise of the pro Independence parties has grown and if Labour and Conservatives did not have proportional representation, no doubt the situation for them would be considerably worse.  But we know there is a palpable bite when the media is becoming even more afeared.  Even as bumbling Boris waves his last goodbye, with more revelations unfolding, the Tory Press still tries to sell their support yet still have no effective excuses for keeping the Union.

We know the usual diatribe will be wheeled out in its various guises.  But their mousetrap is lacking the cheese.  There are no visible entities in the leadership hopefuls who would assist the Independence movement, which is not exactly a shock, but we need to ask, if there is little support for Independence, as Alastair Jack has quoted 28% support for, then they should be looking forward to us being trounced.  If there is no support for it, let it happen.  Simple.  So that lets them escape through the cat flap.

Like all carnivores, the Tories like to play fat cats, playing with their food until they decide to devour it.  But fat cats are lazy cats, and when you play fast and loose with our lives, we need to tell them we, the Scots, are not on the menu.  Somebody asked me last week if we were going to be an endangered species, and do we really exist as a separate country now, for are we not frightened we are about to be swallowed up and shut down as a punishment? It was a shocking question, but that’s what Westminster think of us, a problem, like Northern Ireland, which has to be endured and subsequently punished for even thinking we need to escape from what they think is a comfy basket.  Well fed and over nurtured, to be petted when good and scolded when bad.  If that is the case, we should be calling in the SSPCA, for our neglect is palpable by our friends down South, it’s they who need to be rehoused.