WARNING: DAFT POST: Serious readers should avoid.
I stand, above, with my foot half-in in the sacred, foot-shaped, hollow in the ancient hillfort capital of the Scots/Gaels, Dunadd, Argyll but, like one of the ugly sisters, my plates of meat are too big.
Nevertheless, after consulting the PM, at that moment, last Saturday, I became High Chieftain and King of the Scots/Gaels and, of course, any migrants making their home here, as per the words of my First Minister.
Oh, yes, and the English-born too! Even Essex!
I claim this title on the basis of putting my foot in it, with my wife as witness, but also on my lineage. After swabbing both my cheeks (mouth!) a few years ago and sending the swab to some research lab, I received a certificate revealing that my selfish wee genes are identical to those of 99% of males on the West coast of Ireland and on the North coast of what is now the Basque territory in Spain.
I told my wife I was clearly a Basque. She shook her head wearily and said she knew that.
This means that I am now, like many demented North Americans, a direct male descendant of Kenneth I MacAlpin (Cináed mac Ailpín) first king of Scots in 843AD and of size 9 in shoes like me. In that line, there are thousands, thousands, of other ancestors and kin, including Rab C Nesbit, Andrew Neil and several women from Jamaica and England but I’m ignoring all that and keeping my eye on the orb.
Talking of spherical objects, my dad was the spit of John Robertson, Notts Forest and European Cup Winner, and even more so, Hugh Robertson, of Dundee and Dunfermline AFC, scorer in that team first to defeat the Lisbon Lions in 1968. All four of us chubby left-wingers.
What more proof do you need?
Talking-up Scotland 
I’m sure your good lady’s patience would be tested with you in a basque, even if you now have the chest for it…
I’ve got my coat thank you…
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Chest? I’ll have you know I climbed Dunadd unaided at 70 plus!
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😀
Glad you’re back – and your absence was due to nothing more serious than planning your coronation!
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My entourage was a bit wee. Only 5′ 2″ and annoyingly the right size of feet. I proclaim her Queen Bernadette 1st.
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Did the same a few years ago,in my 60s so probably a bit easier climbing the hill.
Kilmartin Glen is a fascinating place containing thousands of years of Scottish history and well worth a visit.
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It is but the visitor centre museum is building site until 2023!
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Not daft at all, High King. I am a proud member of the great Hall clan and my Auntie Maisie, a dear soul, rushed to her Bellahouston primary school lang syne with the exciting news that she was descended from Rab Ha’ the Glesca Glutton. The source of this news was my grandpa, who liked a joke.
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The Glesca Glutton? Wow! You may remember when the Carrick Lodge in Ayr published their ‘Glutton-free’ menu? Small portions?
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Rab, man of my blood, would have viewed the Carrick Lodge menu with disdain. Though when an Honest Man I did like their bar meals. Note the existence of Rab Ha’s Hotel in Glasgow. Sadly no discounts offered to his Hall descendants.
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Ah, good to see you back, what a lovely place that looks. An independent Scotland
can have a citizen monarch, the throne sitter would be changed once a year, by referendum. 🙂
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I’ll tell her you have approved.
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It is well known that the great Shuggie Robertson of Dundee FC had small feet – twinkle toes even – and aspirations to at least princedom at Dens Park. So it clearly “runs” in the family !
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My dad too. I blame my mother for my whopping 9s.
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Claiming a likeness to the great “Wee Louie” Robertson of Dundee and Scotland fame then Prof. Be careful, that could indicate ancestors from Auchinleck; and, ye dinnae want that.
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As often before ‘funny’ posts get few reads!
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Cinderella Rockafellow. Rocky punches above their weight. For the Independence cause.
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