Rikki Fulton

“Sir,     We could not believe wur ears when we conceived the diary the other day in what Tom Shields appeared to disride the Glasgow patwah. After all, us Glaswegians are already impaled with the burden of wur enthic indentification because, admittedly, some of us do not metriculate wur words properly and are at times, theref our, slightly incomprehensive. For too long Scottish people in general, and Glasgow people in particular, has been subjugatit to the debilitating situation in which they are not understood by the English, or that they are told that they do not sound Scottish (from which Francie and me has often suffered), which is rich coming from people whose accents have to be seen to be believed.     It is oblivious to me that very few of wur Scottish cultyers ever gets past Beattock (and that goes fur the trains as well, by the way). A particular example is found in wur own profession. For many years our Scottish performers, even in the depth of their popularity, never got the chance to do their stuff south of Wentford because they were told that they were not understandable. Those who has made it across the border have did so only because they were prepared to use infected accents.     So what does the future hold for us? Is it to be like the well-known Bibulous stories of Moses that our great Scottish tribe has to suffer similar ante-seminal feelings for all maternity?     Only time will tell.         Yours,         Francie and Josie, Coocaddens.”
― Rikki Fulton, Is it that Time Already? The Autobiography