Scottish independence: 10 things to foist off on England if we get divorced

Shout it out loud: Lulu could be first to go in independence clean-out
Shout it out loud: Lulu could be first to go in independence clean-outSteve Meddle/Rex Features

Just in case you've missed out over the past week, the independence debate has sparked back into life after David Cameron sought to take control of the issue (via the novel and untested technique of alienating himself even more to Scottish voters).

His party might have afterwards pretended that his blundering tone was accidental, but despite any diversionary techniques his sly plan should have been evident to anyone with a brain: by making Scotland desperate to divorce, the consequent separation can then be done on Westminster’s terms - meaning that us teuchters will accept any crummy deal that they deign to offer.

Unfortunately for ol’ Dave, he hasn’t reckoned for wickedly intelligent Scottish types (such as myself) who have already seen through this ruse. And let us not waste any further time identifying the mind games of the Prime Ministerial fool: it's time to act pre-emptively!

But how? Well, it’s simple. In the run-up to the vote – with potential independence looming – we need to determine what we really, really want to get rid of. (As in the utter garbage of Scottish life that we've felt duty-bound to carry on dealing with despite ourselves.)

After this identification process, for the next two and a half years we bluff like pros. There will be two tactics most ready for satisfactory deployment: the first is to pretend that the thing in question is most definitely English - and we’ve just been mistaken all these years. The second is just to pretend that whatever it is is one of the BEST THINGS EVER.

Once all that is taken care of, just imagine the joy that we'll feel on D-Day! They’ll be proudly clutching their tawdry trinkets – the Queen sneering at us while giving us the Vs – and just as we leave we head back over Hadrian's Wall for the last time we’ll slip them a note letting them know the rubbish that they've been unceremoniously lumped with. Ha!

In order so that it doesn’t appear like we’re gloating, we can phrase the parting letter sensibly, making it roughly something like: “GET IT UP YE, BAMPOTS”. (The capital letters are essential.) Then we can go home victoriously and listen to You’re The Best on repeat while tanning Buckie, until we realise we’re all alone and start sobbing uncontrollably. (I tried out the latter part of this strategy last weekend and can assure everyone it works a treat.)

It’s all pretty easy when it comes down to it, so all that needs to be done is to decide upon what best to chuck overboard. This is by no means a comprehensive list, but I think an initial 10 should do us fine for the moment:

  • Lulu – She had one song, and yes the girl could holler, but it was out decades ago and I can’t remember a single thing she did then since then (except holler a bit more with Take That while eyeing up Jason Orange). She’s already got the accent and doesn't seem to be back up here all that often anyway, all we need to do is get a fake birth certificate and we’ll be laughing.
  • Lack of tuition fees – How come all these freeloaders get to educate themselves for the betterment of society while I’m stuck reloading the front pages of gossip sites over and over again to check whether or not Rob and Kristen have split up yet? They should be paying me to be this disillusioned and depressed while they have all the fun. Shocking.
  • Patter – On the surface it seems like a great thing, but Scottish patter really seems to be masking enormous resentment by sarcastically taking digs at everything and everyone around you, then expecting those around you to grasp what on earth the pseudo-ironic drivel actually means. Imagine a new approach where you could actually take people at their word, rather than forever pondering whether or not they secretly despise you?
  • Rod Stewart – He was theirs in the first place anyway, and his voice is like taking an electric sander to the ear canals. And what’s that barnet fair all about? (Being a true Scot he’ll know what that means.)
  • Directionless drunken rage – It might not be exclusively Scottish, but by goodness we do seem to have a knack for it, as a visit to any local “hot spot” during a Friday or Saturday night will surely prove. Perhaps we can say it’s some uber-modern form of cathartic therapy for the upmarket London-based city-slicker?
  • Sir Sean Connery – All those varying roles and that one accent of his. But mainly, trying to brush aside his comments about how to treat women seems to have become ever more unacceptable in these thankfully more enlightened times.
  • The Broons – Perhaps we could even do some sort of swap where we get Wallace and Gromit in return? Well, we can but try.
  • Deep-fried mars bars (or deep-fried anything come to think of it) – If we’re still glorying at such horrific cuisine after the Commonwealth Games in 2014, then our side of Britain is likely to shortly afterwards sink into the North Sea due to the sheer collective mass of its citizens. Salad bars for all!
  • Haggis – Well, if on the subject of horrific cuisine, let’s just stop pretending. Please. There really is no need anymore; we have McDonalds and Burger Kings dotted all over the country now, showing exactly how our standards have improved immeasurably. (The same goes for porridge, which is pretty much just vomit without the zesty tang.)
  • Whisky – I drink it myself, and even I don’t know why anyone bothers with it. (Well, I do, but it’s got nothing to do with taste.) Let them think it's some sort of nifty detox treatment for your guts (in that'll dispose any hope your internal organs ever had for a healthy and productive existence.)

There you go: a start. A couple of dumper trucks and when the (potential) big day arrives then we'll feel that much more free. (Not for Lulu though, she can shout down a lift instead and put that voice of hers to good use for the first time in about 50 years.)


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