List

Look, it’s The McStig: Knockhill’s answer to the mysterious, rubber-burning daredevil from Top Gear.

Speed king though The McStig is, I really showed the laddie who’s boss the other day.

Through my distant cloud of dust, he could just about see me giving my tail a cheeky wee shoogle as I sped round the first bend like a cowpat off a Teflon® shovel.

And I’ll be back at Knockhill again this weekend (22–23 May) for the Official Scottish Motorshow. Come along and see me giving an inferiority complex to an F1 car capable of 200 mph (in kph that’s a number so frighteningly large, I’d have to get permission from three different government departments before I’d be allowed to write it here).

And there’ll also be all kinds of bikes and GT sports cars. They’ll be showing you what they’re made of on the track, not simply sitting around looking pretty.

Although they’ll be doing plenty of that, too; so you can get up close and personal without them squishing you deep into Dunfermline tarmac.

But enough about them. And back to me. Because I’m the one who’s looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

To tell you the truth, this is a bit embarrassing.

Because I can guess what your situation is. You’ve got your computer set up just the way you want it. You’re very happy and proud of it.

Like millions of others, you have a loved one’s photy set as your desktop wallpaper. Awww! And your heart dances a wee jig every time you see it. In fact, it’s a matter of sadness that their lovely, smiling face is partially obscured by this window.

Oh dear, though. Oh dearie, dearie dear. You’ve just seen these four gorgeous wallpapers featuring yours truly.

Wow! You’re blown away by the beautiful colours. By the much-loved Scottish locations. And, yes, by me.

Suddenly, you’re altering your settings. You’re consigning the picture of your beloved to the wastebasket and installing me on your desktop in their place.

Of course, your loved one eventually finds out that they’ve been digitally disposed of.

So they get in a huff. They say things like: “You love that boggin’ car-cow thing more than you love me.” You start to mumble a denial. But you can’t find the right words.

Your loved one slams the door on their way out. It’s over.

Still, at least your desktop looks braw.

Hamish at the SECC
1280x800
1440x900
1680x1050
1920x1200
Twitter
iPhone

Hamish in front of Edinburgh Castle
1280x800
1440x900
1680x1050
1920x1200
Twitter
iPhone

Hamish at the Falkirk Wheel
1280x800
1440x900
1680x1050
1920x1200
Twitter
iPhone

Hamish at Loch Ness
1280x800
1440x900
1680x1050
1920x1200
Twitter
iPhone

People of Britain, I believe I’d make a braw Prime MINIster.

Aye, I know cows don’t normally wear rosettes – unless they’ve just won the best of breed at their local agricultural show – but I have political aspirations.

As the self-appointed leader of the Vardy Party, I’ll happily drive around my local constituency canvassing voters.

I’ll be polite and try not to park in anyone’s flower beds or on top of their pets. And I solemnly swear on this copy of the Highway Code not to sound my horn when driving in a built-up area between the hours of 11.30 pm and 7.00 am.

Anyway, I have a MINIfesto. It may be a wee bit shorter than the main parties’, but who cares? I think you’ll agree it’s much better.

I solemnly swear that, if elected, I will:

1) Outlaw gingerist remarks and criminalise all ginger discrimination
2) Confer “sacred” status on cows of all descriptions
3) Introduce cow tax credits
4) Turn Heathrow airport into pasture
5) Guarantee free petrol for all cars that aren’t built like shopping centres on wheels
6) Make parking free for all MINIs

Jings. Will you look at the date? The election’s this Thursday. I’d better get some leaflets printed now. Got to dash.

Cheerio!

Phew. I think that went rather well. My readers are a really intelligent bunch. Not to mention attractive. Hang on: is this blog still switched on…?

It was meant to be a tribute to that old Skoda “cake” ad. But did they make a Skoda at Bristol’s City Academy? No, my friends, they did not.

Just watch this footage and listen to the glorious words of the academy’s Professor of Cakeology and Marzipanonomy (OK, maybe that wasn’t his exact title):

“I said, well, what sort of car do you wanna make? Do you wanna make an Aston Martin? Do you wanna make a Bentley? And they all said a MINI.”

All! They ALL said a MINI! As well as being rather touching, it was an extremely sensible choice by the West Country students.

Because, with a MINI cake, even if the ingredients included tuna fish, bran flakes and diced pork, it would at least LOOK mouth-watering.

Scottish Mini Cooper accident at Knockhill
Uploaded by MotorsTV. - Dramatic race and crash videos.

Some folk have hearts of flint. Small, dry, jagged bits of flint. They find it impossible to empathise with the suffering of others.

Take this footage from Knockhill, for example. The driver’s not crying. The interviewer’s not crying. But me? I was bawling my headlights out when I saw this beautiful* MINI landing on its roof, minus a few vital bits of its anatomy.

It was grisly. It looked like an episode of CSI Miami. Or at least it would do if southern Florida looked more like Dunfermline.

I’d like to think that if I came a cropper in a ditch somewhere, grieving people across the length and breadth of the country would be burying their greetin’ faces into their wee hankies.

What I wouldn’t expect is for someone to say on YouTube that I’d be as right as rain again after a quick rub down with a chamois leather.

The only thing that came close to offsetting the horror here was the fact that they’d misspelled Knockhill as Konckhill. Which I like a lot. They should make it official.

*But aren’t we all?