By, Billy Kirkwood

Yes the summertime is here. It’s the time of year a person can go stir crazy. I mean proper off your Chips, Disco Bug Mental. Currently the whole day is spent working, morning on the radio, afternoon writing & working from home, night time out gigging.

Long gone are the days when you’d get a 7-week break over the summer holidays as a kid to do heehaw. Your main worry, what type of lolly or Ice cream you’re going to have when the van comes around. 

Although today you can have any favourite of Ice cream with Chill Merchants across Ayrshire battling for business. Go for it.  Imagine what you’d fancy, any type of Ice cream …Cookies and Cream, Meringue and Raspberry, Strongbow and Wham Bar…Stovies?

I mean Meringue? I had no idea what a Meringue was when I was wee… first time I saw a Meringue at ASDA I though the bakers were selling Ghost Jobbies. 

Poor Mum…. just imagine her trying to tackle some angry sugared-up 8-year-old screaming, “I WANT CASPER POOP!” at the top of his lungs, dragging him behind you by his Street Hawk Hoodie. 

Things haven’t changed much…over the last few years. Summer time turns a person weird. 

Aside: Am I the only one that things Hayfever is crazy this year…. who’s making Pollen this year…  Isis?

Cooped up working in the house, I start having to do things to amuse myself…like waiting by the letterbox to touch a postman’s hand through the letterbox. 

“YA WEE WEIRDO!” You hear Our Postie often screaming as he scuttles away…

You know, you need to let loose a bit more when the postie, a public servant, an upstanding member of the community whose only job it is, is to bring you YOUR mail becomes your Nemesis.

*Narrows eyes* “Same time tomorrow Stevie”. 

As a certified Social Human Hand Grenade, pretty much every trip out the house is a nightmare

Father’s Day in Frankie and Benny’s, caught short, nip to the loo, in the toilet, settled, noticed no lock on the door, I hear someone coming in so put my foot up to brace the door to stop someone coming in, and the bloody door opened out the way!

Looked like I was inviting the guy in..banned…BANNED from Frankie and Benny. How will I make the summer without my Garlic Doughball Fix? Just imagine all the time though that I spend in F&B after dinner waiting on the Bill. 

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Aye Breakfast if you don’t hurry up! I’m missing the start of Jurassic World here!”

Oh but isn’t it nice the hot weather?…. HOW DARE YOU!

Hot weather haunts me like a Kid with a magnifying glass or a ghost with a three bar fire. 

Going on Holidaybobs? Maybe going to sunbathe by the pool.


20 minutes near a hot wattage bulb and you end up looking like a smacked arse, so red and hot looking you can be seen from space. So hot you can hear your thoughts cooking. Whereas next to you sits someone with the full Ronseal Hotdog look, covering themselves in Crisp and Dry chip oil. Why don’t we all have the same skin? We’re all the same inside. Why is it Fabio over here has flawless bronzed coverage like a well-fired Crème Brûlée… me I’ve got skin like a Junkie’s Plimsoll.

We’re Scottish, we moan when it’s hot, we moan when it is cold, we moan when it’s hot and you won’t put a coat on, we moan when it’s cold and you won’t take your coat off cos’ “You won’t feel the benefit of it when you go out”. We’d moan if the weather was perfect ‘cause then we’d “Fancy a change”. 


“Ooooh” someone might be reading, “He’s getting all Jockeriffic…maybe he’s one of those cheeky shortbread shortish people?”

No Chance…

I’m only one of those “firebomb your cat” kinda Scots.  

Not tough…… just nasty, especially in hot weather. 

I live in the real world. No, I just live in Scotland.

The only place in the world where “flooding” is a hobby.

And you wake every every two or three mornings and go, “Hey…everyone’s a Bam aren’t they?”

I am the definition of needing a holiday, but this year it’s reserved to a staycation (Fine) so instead of sitting on
an airplane, sipping cool drinks and watching Tom
Hanks in Cast Away (an odd choice for an Airplane
movie, but it is the only way I’ll tolerate a football on my screens during the summer months and Hank’s Island
beard is mega ‘On Fleek’). No, instead we bought a Bar
Be Que and garden furniture which, let’s face it, we’ll only
use once before it spends the rest of the year being a Travel Lodge for foxes to have a dirty night on. 

“Where’s the table from the garden? I thought we’d have breakfast outside?”

“I burned it, along with the kids’ paddling pool, bird feeder and the car” 

But I don’t mind just having fun at home rather than trying to do the whole package holiday thing this year. 

Won’t miss the plane, which is essentially a germ ridden cylinder, then after 7 hours smells like it’s filled with fart flavoured potpourri 

Water Balloons, Ice Poles and Tig are much more fun. 

Although, I’m banned from making up fortunes on the kids’ handmade fortune-tellers;

“You teach a crab to fart on your best friend’s birthday cake”

“You tell everyone that if a crow tastes salty it means it’s going to snow”

“Lemonade is ghost pee” (little call-back there for you)”

“You get banned from the Zoo for throwing your poo at the monkeys” 

“You invent the world’s smallest games console you call it the Wee Wii”

“You Sellotape chips to your gran and get seagulls to chase her” 

Alright…maybe I shouldn’t be teaching this to kids to misbehave.


At least it’s imaginative? Beats weans chasing each other with poop on the end of a stick. 

I still wake up in cold sweats at my dad’s idea of family holidays. 

Accidentally heading into the wrong pub in Benidorm and tormenting me and my brothers for watching an impromptu performance by ‘Sticky Vicky’. Sorry and terrified, we didn’t know whether or not to watch or phone the Ghostbusters. Seemingly Vicky is retired now and her daughter has taken over. What’s her name? Manky Margaret? Honking Harriet? Bogging Betty?

Aye dad, it might have been an accident but did you need to get your picture taken with the woman!

Hang on I’ve given myself the boak…one second…no I’m fine. 

So anyway jetting off to…no, hang on, still boaking…..

Love Island…*boak* 

No no…I’m alright…

So, like I was *boak*.

Gotta go!