DOUBLE rouble trouble. Russia's Prime Minister Vladimir Putin strode into a Moscow supermarket and told startled staff to cut the price of sausages.
Oh that we had a PM like Vlad, not a comparative U-turner and pansy.
Then we could get Brown to barge into stinking-rich Tescos in Edinburgh and order them to slash the price of their cherry toms. And that's just one item. He could tell them to s
traighten out their bananas, too, pricewise.
While we're talking pound-in-your-pocket, Old Town reader Sandra Murray tells me she nearly did it in her pants when, in the Royal Botanic Garden, she was charged £3.50 for admission to its Palm House.
She recalled the days when she could get in for nothing. Yes, dear, but that was prior to the refurb four years ago of the mile-high Palm, largest of the Garden's ten hothouses, and there's no charge for those. Nor, in fact, to the Garden itself.
Folks, get your bairns in there, away from their bloody computers and into the fresh air. I can't lay claim to a window box, even, so long live the RBG, hot or cold.
Reality cheque This was Andy Murray on the bawl: "To me it's all about winning. When I'm serving to win a match, I get nervous. Not because I'm thinking about the cheque, it's all about wanting to beat Rafael Nadal or Roger Federer. It's not about the money." Aye, right, Andy. Shame about the French Open.
Off the rails A chance encounter with the artful Ricky Demarco at Henderson's Salad Table found him on the right lines: "I look forward to the day I can relive my love affair with the trams. I recall catching a No 12 from Portobello to the city. At Waterloo Place you caught a tram to anywhere in Edinburgh." Yes, Ricky. If you live long enough.
Afterwords . . . . . Boris Becker talking about his net gain: "I love her (Dutch model Lilly Kerssenberg] because I trust here completely and I'm certain that I love her for the right reason. She loves the person Boris Becker, not the tennis star, and understands the core of his being." They've just married.
