Wow - that’s the first American mutation/mutt of a pizza that doesn’t make me want to shriek and shrink back like a vampire stuck in a tanning salon. Detroit-style just looks like someone fucked a frozen pizza and Kardashianed all over it..

You should never ask a man his age. It makes you look grubby. But, if you must know: I’m in my forties. And I didn’t grow up rich. We were...rich-passing. And high-teas where my mother’s family are from? They were always a thing for everyone. (And that’s deepest Lanarkshire, aka “oh my god, the hills do have eyes...”)

Never was a fan of Thousand Island dressing but I do love Russian dressing. Mind you - both are still light years ahead of that reconstituted horse-semen-and-phlegm concoction you types call “ranch dressing”. Fucking evil evil stuff. I can tolerate American “white gravy” (shudder) and I can get on-board with your…

Well aren’t you just a barrel of giggles and rainbow-kissing kittens, eh? Go paint yourself red and glue yourself to a road and let the people who are doing something get on with things, whinger.

If you’re going to be an absolute arsehole about facts about this country, get them right, dear. Otherwise you’ll just look like a child in the face of truth and history. Face it: I’m right, you’re wrong. I’m older than you. Clearly I know my Scottish - and importantly, Glaswegian - history better than you. Clearly…

“Exactly! The whole concept was non-existant in my part of Scotland until about 15 years ago when it became fashionable. High tea is the term I know it as.”

I need to look this up...honestly, I thought you were referring to Kinga from Big Brother UK and her antics with the wine bottle. Yes, that’s right. A wine bottle. Going boldly where no wine bottle should ever go on national telly.

*files claws*

Tea is the Queen here. Coffee’s good for a quick pick-me-up - you just pop the kettle on (I know this might come as a shock for a lot of people, but the vast majority of Brits like myself use electric kettles rather than fuck around with a gas fucking stove and a bloody stove-top kettle like some sort of inbred…

Holy shit, they actually got a real Scotsman to play Scotty this time? Not that anyone west of Ireland would know but it’s a nice thing to find an actual proper Scotsman.

Just out of curiosity from this side of the pond - have you guys ever had a Fight Night on American Big Brother? By Fight Night, I mean the now infamous fight on Big Brother 5 in the UK shown in 2004. https://bigbrotheruk.fandom.com/wiki/Fight_Night

*files claws*

My nephew showed the video to my granny this morning. Her reaction? “Well, what did the inbred cunts think was going to happen?” Play stupid games, people, win stupid prizes!

The idea of a vampire being invisible on a television camera or on film goes back a little before that Dracula 2000 shite (back then you would be amazed to learn that Gerard Butler still spoke with a Scottish accent!) - it goes back to a television show from 1998 called Ultraviolet where vampires could roam around…

They kill lesbian vampires, the most evil vampires of all (oh, calm yourselves to a mild froth. I’m having a giggle at one of the worst films ever made). Basically - there’s a village in England where every girl, upon reaching her eighteenth birthday or some shite like that, is cursed to turn into a demonic…

Well, the Basic White Tarts of Instagram and Tiktok are probably getting bored with whatever current fad they’re grinding to death so it makes sense that the corporate overlords would release the “fall” products for the hordes. Lap it up, dear brats, lap it up like the good little corporate sluts you are. (And ignore…

You kink-shaming the “writers” for indulging in a bit of food bukkake?  For shame!

Never been forced to go to an In-N-Out (thankfully. Their food looks like shite) but I did visit a Five Guys a few weeks ago. I paid nearly £20 ($25 US) for a burger and a shake. The burger was pathetic - like something I would have grudgingly paid £5 for at a festival a few years ago or something you buy in…

He has all the charisma of a hot wet sticky fart in a wean’s nappy. Ever noticed that he has the cold dead stare of a three-week deceased shark but without the allure? And what’s with the pubic fuzz of a “beard”? What’s wrong, did Mother forget to buy him a new razor?

Congratulations, Instasluts and Tiktwatters everywhere: you’ve “invented” that most British of dishes: picky-bits. Want to entertain the plebs and inbreds of the world without too much effort? Open up a can of Pringles and a jar of pickled silverskins (the champion of pickled onions) and dish it up alongside a small…