Some mistake, surely?  Once again I have been omitted from the Honours List despite the task of filling this page every week for six years.

It may be that Boris had me pencilled in until the Privileges Committee at the House of Commons put a red pen through my name, along with fellow columnist Nadine Dorries, who immediately resigned as a Tory MP.

As I told the Largs Lunch Club last week (were you there, madam?), if God spares me until next year, I will have been writing for this blessed blatt for 50 years. Yes, half a century. Millions of words. With all due respect to Lord Glasgow of Kelburn Castle fame, the title of Lord Largs was not too much to ask for, was it?

It seems that dedication counts for nothing in this lazy, hazy day and age, considering that Boris has made a 29-year-old friend, Charlotte Owen, a Dame in his retirement honours - and that was for turning up at 10 Downing Street as an 'adviser.'

What's that? She was a pal of his young wife Carrie? Oh, that's all right then. I had to chuckle when Charlotte said that she had been "working under" Boris for 16 months.

But wait a minute, Gito Harri, who was Boris's director of communications for six months has also been honoured. And Harri is not even his real name. He is Mr Pritchard-Jones. Even the Parliamentary hairdresser is to receive a gong - and have you seen his hair?

But all may not be lost, dear reader.  Apparently, you can nominate me for my life sentence with the Largs & Millport. Do you know how many Largs Thistle games I've had to endure, not to mention hundreds of council meetings...and funerals? Yes, I know, obituaries are a dying art.

I wasn't expecting anything, of course, but I did have my throne prepared (pictured) just in case. Ah well, Liz Truss gets the next shot at honours for her remarkable tenure as Prime Minister for all of 44 days. She'll have heard of me, won't she?

Services to the local Lunch Club may sway it in my favour. I regaled those octogenarians with memoirs of Largs news stories down the decades. When I first became a very young editor in 1974 we had a Largs Town Council with Provosts and Bailies (Justices of the Peace) who served on the burgh court which was tucked behind the former police station in School Street.

On Monday mornings, the weekend custody cases of ne'er-do-wells and local jaikies (those who had imbibed a bit too much over the weekend) would be paraded before us to receive their £5 fines. 

In one memorable case a woman claimed that her husband had attacked her with a hatchet.  "Are you sure it was a hatchet?" the judge asked. "Oh, aye," she said, "it's the sort of thing that sticks in yer heid." 

I know, I know it's a different era now as the lunatics have taken over the asylum.

In this past week it's unbelievable that the SNP-Green axis at Glasgow City Council have launched a Low Emission Zone - meaning that 600 of their own council vehicles cannot drive into the city centre, as well as many charity vans and tradespeople.

Isn't it unbelievable that North Ayrshire Council are taking £300,000 from the future income of the seafront car park - which keeps breaking down - in order to "repair" the public toilets? Must be gold-plate taps and urinals.

Isn't it unbelievable that the UK Government cannot stop or deport any of the hundred thousand illegal immigrants arriving in small boats?

Isn't it unbelievable that the Scottish Government cannot tell the difference between a man and a woman?

God forbid that Nicola Sturgeon gets sent to jail. Would she have to share a cell with a 'man?'.

Isn't it unbelievable that the Republic of London's Labour Mayor, Sadiq Khan, has decreed that staff should say 'people with period pains' just in case a man gets them?  I could go on. (Editor's note: Please don't.)

The aforementioned are all down to modern politics.  As the French President Charles de Gaulle once said: "Politics is too serious a matter to be left to the politicians."

PS: Has anyone got a phone number for Liz Truss?

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Thought for the Week: Today is the oldest you have been, and the youngest you'll ever be, so enjoy it while you can.

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As much as I love my old mates in the Walking Football Club, I have decided not to enter a team into the famous Eggheads TV quiz show.

I had thought of putting us in as The Walky Talkies but I had a trial run with the following results:

In which battle did Napoleon die?  Answer: The last one.

Where was the Declaration of Independence signed? Answer: At the bottom of the page.

In what state does the Mississippi River run? Answer: Liquid.

What is the main reason for divorce? Answer: Marriage.

Ah well, I hear they run a weekly quiz in Ye Olde Anchor Inn.