Happy Haverings Christmas Present: Andrew Neil's Guide to Scotland

We've all heard of it.
We've all sampled the shortbread and the whiskey.
We've all laughed at the incomprehensible accent.
Some of the best people (no prizes for guessing who I mean, Ma'am) have estates there.
But what is Scotland really like?
Tonight on This Is Weak, I, the most famous and important son of Scotland ever to grace your television screen, offer the definitive guide to Scotland.

There, that's me on the right. Gorgeous, eh? But let me tell you, not every Scot is so beautiful. In fact the vast majority of them are downright hideous.

I had that Alex Salmond in the studio once and let me tell you he's a real bullfrog. And that's after hours of make up. As you can see I don't need any, but as Scotland's bard once said, 'Fair fae your honest, sonsie face'. Whatever that means.

But back to Scotland. It's a land of lochs and mountains. At least it used to be before the SNP got into power and turned the whole country into a raving socialist dystopia. Now all the mountains have to have unpronounceable Gaelic names and you can get arrested for calling a loch 'lake', the proper English word for it.

Unique among Scots, I own literally dozens of books.

But despite the majesty and grandeur of the landscape the vast majority of Scots remain poor and stubbornly ignorant. So ignorant enough of them will happily vote for the SNP, a party so ludicrously incompetent it refuses to tax them to the hilt despite the powers so graciously bestowed upon them by the Crown. (God Bless You, Ma'am!) It lets their kids go free to their useless universities - with the notable exception of Glasgow, my own alma mater - which means their traditional high quality education has been watered down by all that riff-raff turning up in their hoodies, shouting up in the Common room and smoking boobies instead of attending lectures, as in my day.

And it doesn't end there. SNP incompetence reaches into every aspect of everyday life in Scotland. Irrefutable statistics, just thrust into my hand by a researcher, prove conclusively that buses and trains are regularly late. Old ladies regularly forget where they left their glasses, even when they were on their heads all the time. Schools regularly collapse. Sheep often get out of fields onto roads. Bridges are regularly closed due to high winds or bits falling off them. And all the SNP can say in response to this is the feeble 'We'll build another one'. 

Despite Diane Abbot's cleavage trying to upstage me I'm still the
most gorgeous thing in this picture.

Instead of reacting sensibly to this appalling state of affairs Scots themselves have become insufferably bolshie. Despite being spoiled rotten at the expense of the rest of the UK, a fact they should be eternally grateful for, they point blank refuse to vote for real political parties and even criticise that bastion of truth and enlightenment, our beloved BBC. I myself receive the most hateful antagonism from Cybernats, despite being polite to a fault in exchanges with nobodies like them. In my day we knew how to treat a national treasure like myself with respect, but sadly those days are gone.

So, in conclusion, Scotland may be pretty on the postcards but it is rapidly going to hell in a hand basket.  Luckily those few of us who did manage to reach the pinnacle of academia in the days when it counted for something escaped to civilisation. If I were you I'd stay home, pour yourself a Scotch to go with your shortbread and watch me on the telly instead. It's better than Horlicks.