A BLACK comedian, South African Loyiso Gola, did a stint in Glasgow, and went on to admit that during his stay he hardly understood a word that was said to him.

"Scots don't talk English," he joked. "They talk like Cookie Monsters." He went on to demonstrate by making exaggerated grumbling noises. To be honest, I know people in Largs who sound like that.

I thought he was funny; in fact, he was funny, but I couldn't help thinking that if it had been a white comedian talking about not understanding black people, it would have been made into a scandal by left-wing agitators, many of whom earn their living on BBC and other mainstream media (MSM). Some might even resort to hate crime reporting.

The same comedian also did some jokes about "stop putting black into all your sh...y stuff"....you know...like pudding and Blackpool." 

He was also trying to get his head round the fact that his Glasgow hotel room was being cleaned by a white woman. He joked that he kept throwing stuff on to the floor while she cleaned, in case he never witnessed it again. SNP-Green folk presumably wouldn't recognise it as comedic.

Now, of course, intelligent people (like you and me, madam) know that he wasn't being racist. It was his satirical comedy routine in which he was having a pop at cancel culture - so embraced by the perpetually offended. In fact, political glove puppets, like the red-headed Green MSP Ross Greer, would have a fit to hear the very same comic say that the only folk who are still fair game for comedians are...gingers!

The fact is that the other folk, who are still fair game for stand-up comics, are folk like me (yes, and you, sir); white, veteran males. Gammon, I think, is the phrase used about us. It is a pejorative term which has grown in left-wing political culture referring to a man who has a flushed face. You too would have a flushed face if you jogged around Inverclyde sports centre for half-an-hour.

But it's true, isn't it? We Gammon guys would be interviewed by the police under new Scottish Government legislation cancelling what you can say about others. Glasgow comic Kevin Bridges, who sells out arenas because we like to hear his, erm, critical thinking could have half of his hilarious act banned.

The bold Kevin did a question and answer session at a typical secondary school where he revealed that he was called 'fatty' and 'chubby' at his school in the city.  A shocked pupil asked: "So you were fat shamed in school?"

Kevin had to explain to the modern snowflake pupil that it was quite common to be called 'speccy', 'spotty' or 'big ears' by your classmates. Why, they would even shout 'fatty, boom boom' at him. When it happened, he laughed and they laughed.

"In fact," he said, "some teachers were the biggest shamers. A boy soiled his troosers in the class and was forever after called Dirty Harry."

Kevin truthfully told an audience recently that half of today's school kids wouldn't last a day in the school of the 90s. Try the 60s, pal. Unfortunately, in this age of social media and the fear of free speech too many of our young ones are easily offended and encouraged to be so by woke teachers.

Recently, I was asking an SNP friend why his party wanted to legislate that a man could wake up one morning and self declare that he/she was a woman and start to use female toilets and safe spaces. He assured me that it was a generational thing; that those under the age of 40 found that quite natural. The lunatics are running the asylum.

My dear departed Greenock father-in-law was heard to use the derogatory term Baggie Aggie about a woman he observed wearing ill-fitting, over large clothes as in "Hey, Baggie Aggie, did ye get that dress at Black's?" (That was, and remains, the Greenock tent-maker, established in 1861, for those unfamiliar with the term.) 

If my old mammy was alive today she would have an 'Annie Rooney' to be told what you can and cannot say these days. Annie Rooney? No relation to Wayne and, to be honest, I am not sure where the expression came from but I do have a vision of an Irish wummin shouting the odds at somebody. Aye, and ginger too!

Thought for the Week: At my age rolling out of bed is easy, it's getting up off the floor that takes time.

Fifty years ago, two of the great names in Scottish hospitality, Stakis and Nardini, were both operating in Largs.

Restaurateur Reo Stakis came from Cyprus to build up an empire of 30 restaurants and hotels through the 60s to the 90s. When you went to the Stakis Grill in Main Street (I think where the Bagel Basket is now) you could live it up on a three course of prawn cocktail, sirloin steak and tirimasu for not much more than a fiver!

So, there was synchronicity about the opening of the footbridge on Halkshill estate, now owned by Andros Stakis, and dedicated to the memory of the late Aldo and Sandra Nardini who lived at Halkshill House.

The Stakis family have put up a commemorative plaque in the names of the Nardini couple.  The new bridge is of great benefit to ramblers in the hills, with links to both Douglas Park and the A760 Largs-Kilbirnie road.

Aldo, who was Largs' answer to Sean Connery, died in 2016, and his popular wife Sandra passed away a few years ago.

Incidentally, youngest son Aldo Junior runs the Nardini Cafe at The Moorings, alongside cousin Claudio. The name lives on.