Let's give grim twinned towns new names and slogans: Fryburgh – "What are you lookin' at ?"

MANY citizens will have had the experience of driving into a horrible Scottish town or village and seeing a sign proclaiming it "twinned" with somewhere foreign. This is always discomforting. One good thing about Abroadshire is that it's generally not as scummy as Scotland. No-one does ugly wee dumps with dumpy wee neds as well as Scotia does.

So, when you see these signs, you find yourself hoping that the foreign citizens don't actually visit their twin. I fear the shock would be too much for them. They envisage a Scotland of misty mountains and pretty villages, perhaps with a blacksmith's forge, and find – in many places far and wide – piles of litter and concrete housing schemes, inevitably with a chippie.

Many of you protest: "It's not right to single oot Scotia. I've been to Sweden. It's the most boring place on Earth. Fair enough, the people are clean and, like all Scandinavians, resemble one's image of Luxembourgians, being prosperous burghers with tanned skin and an air of self-satisfaction. But, while their towns might be tidy and chippie-free, with neither weasel-style neds nor cheap-suited spivs, you wouldn't want to live there, for the ennui would choke you."

I hear what you say, and it links in nicely with a wire report from UPI News detailing the comical attempts of Swedish towns to come up with catchy slogans to make them seem more interesting. Thus, in Fagersta (Cigaretteville), the official slogan "Har far du livstid" ("Here you'll have time for living") can also mean you've been given a lifetime prison sentence.

The Lapland municipality of Mala imaginatively deployed dialect with "He som hann he hann hanna." As you know, that means "Whatever happens, happens here". The town has a population of 3,000. Nothing has happened in it since 1832, when a moose belched.

Meanwhile, the wealthy city of Trosa's motto is said to be self-mocking, which is what the world has come to expect from the laugh-a-minute Swedes and other giggly Teutons. Apparently, "Varldens ande" can mean either "the end of the world" or "the world's arse."

Irritatingly, I decided to look up the popular internut computer thing for a translation. Two automatic translators each rendered "Varldens ande" as "Varldens spirit", while another offered, er, "Varldens ande". If you put just "Varldens" in, the translation is given as "Varldens". Isn't the internet marvellous?

I could phone someone up, I suppose, and say: "Hello, are you Swedish? Excellent. Perhaps you can help me. I'm having a laugh at your country and its funny language. I need you to translate something for me. Afterwards, you can complain to the Ombudsman, though at the moment there is a large queue of Russians, Chinese, Americans, Scots, Luxembourgians, Catholics, Protestants and Muslims – but, strangely, no Buddhists." However, I'm far too busy for that sort of thing, and am not about to give up the main perk of being a columnist rather than a reporter – the fact that you don't have to do any research.

The above-mentioned town of Trosa, incidentally, translates as the singular form of "panties", as in "pant", I suppose. I'm not sure there is such a piece of clothing as a "pant" although, as the credit crunch takes hold, you may see shoppers in Markies asking for just one pant, as they cannot afford a pair.

Be that as it maybe is or maybe ain't, it will be instructive and informative, I feel, if I come up with a few mottos that one might see on the signs into Scottish towns: Snotville – "Please help us"; Nedston – "A fine place for a pish"; and Fryburgh – "What are you lookin' at?"

I'm sure you can think of many more, but you are busy people, and will perhaps be in more of a mood now to read the obituaries.

Crunch time is here as neeps creep into our kitchens
THE credit crunch is far worse than I claimed on Tuesday, when I said it was a myth. Indeed, in that last explosive column, I talked about Broon borrowing £100 billion – yes, that's what I said: £100 billion – to shore up British independence next year.

Well, worse was to come yesterday with the shock news that citizens are turning to turnips as a way of tightening their belts. A close relation of the controversial swede, the turnip has traditionally been eschewed by consumers on account of its tasting rubbish. Usually, they're fed to livestock, despite EU rules stopping farmers being cruel to their animals.

But sales of the indelibly inedible vegetable-style comestible are soaring. This is despite the fact that it needs peeling and doesn't come boil-in-the-bag. However, new recipes have been devised for making the turnip more palatable.

Here's one: take one turnip, a dod of butter, a triple measure of gin, a handful of thyme, a leaf of coriander, one measure of vermouth, two spoonfuls of unsweetened sugar, one diced red pepper and two snipped chives.

Using a broad-bladed knife, carefully scrape the turnip, butter, thyme, coriander, sugar, pepper and chives into the bin. Mix the gin with the vermouth – stirring, not shaking (that's for wimps) – and drink in several swift gulps. You may wish to have a side-dish of dry roasted peanuts with your meal.

Flying in the face of pickled public
GETTING on a plane used to be fun. Hostesses couldn't be more polite – or generous. On one Christmas flight, we passengers just kept our mouths open like chicks in a nest, and the stewardesses shovelled down a constant flow of scoffables and alcohol. It was rare to get off a flight unpickled.

Now, you're lucky if you get a glass of water, and everyone's too scared to ask to use the bathroom. Ever keen to make things worse, British Airways is investigating the possibility of charging for "upgraded" in-flight meals. They might also charge for more leg-room, priority boarding, and snacks. This is known in capitalism as "progress".

Citizens, it's time to tell the airlines: "Enough is enough!" Many of us only travel by plane for the excellent grub and the extra high produced by alcohol quaffed in the clouds. If they insist on taking away our treats, we'll have no alternative but to take the boat or walk.