Plum sauce

In a car park in Cleethorpes, covering the exterior wall of the local franchise of authentically-styled Oirish theme pub chain O’Neills, a Technicolor explosion of spray-painted sloganeering can be viewed. Most of the examples there are vague, shambolic or cryptic - a few somehow manage to be combinations of all three - while others are just plain illegible. But among the dross lies this piece of work, sticking out like a sore thumb.

In opting to use a double g instead of the more common dg, it may feature an unusual spelling of the word midget but there’s no doubting its meaning. It's aimed squarely at Danny G, whoever he is, and it punches hard and low.

By comparing its handwriting and paint colour against graffiti elsewhere on the same wall, it seems the slur was sprayed by someone called Jonny. But on what grounds does he make such a serious accusation?

If Jonny has first-hand knowledge of the size Danny G's knackers then fair enough. Maybe there's a bit of, you know, history between them. Perhaps this insult forms part of their falling-out. We all know messy break-ups can be unpleasant. Or it could be that Jonny doesn't have the faintest idea whether his claim is true or not. It might just be a piece of idle mischief, sprayed purely for a laugh while killing time one wintry evening.

Jonny could find himself in trouble over this. He risks incurring the wrath of an angry Danny. He may be spoiling for revenge now that his former close personal friend has had a very public dig at his plums. But that’s just for starters. He's also on thin legal ice. Written slurs can be considered libellous. Danny G would be perfectly entitled to resort to litigation over this one. There are plenty of solicitors out there who’d be happy to take on a defamation case on a no win, no fee basis. Such arrangements are not limited solely to accident claims by compensation seekers.

So, Jonny, if push comes to shove, do you have the evidence to back up your assertion? Would it bear legal scrutiny? Might it be persuasive enough to woo a jury? In short, could you make it stand up in court?

The British judicial system is considered to be the best in the world. Let’s see it sort this one out.

The scent of young Scotland

January 25 is a date to rival St Andrew's Day on the Scottish calendar. It sees the nation celebrate the birthday of its most famous poet, Robert Burns. A revered cultural icon, he was born on January 25, 1759.

To mark the occasion, countless Scots at home and abroad will attend a traditional Burns Supper, where good food and the Bard's poetry come together as the great man is remembered. The diners will feast on such fine fare as cock-a-leekie soup, followed by haggis, neeps and tatties, and the evening will also feature recitals of some of Burns' best-loved works. Plenty of drink will be taken too. That would please Rabbie. He was fond of a drink.

This post’s piece of graffiti is offered as The Filthy Pen's own modest tribute to Scotland's national poet. Not the message, obviously – that would be rude and disrespectful - but the way in which it’s delivered. The wording has a distinctly Scottish flavour, something Rabbie's own work is renowned for. Note that all-important spelling of the third word. With that final e, it’s very Caledonian.

The picture was sent in late last year by regular TFP correspondent Nicola Rainey, who noticed the slogan written on a wall in Newhaven Road, Edinburgh. And with splendid timing, Nicola has now submitted a second image of it. This one reveals how the original message has been expanded. It seems to have become a collaborative effort. It has turned into a call and response: The use of the local vernacular no instead of not maintains the strong Scottish theme of this piece, so it's fitting that it should make an appearance on this special commemorative day, when the Scots dialect plays such an important part in the celebrations.

In expressing themselves this way, the young authors have picked up the literary baton from Robert Burns, and they’ve run with it. And they’re going to keep on running, all the way to Cash Generator. They plan to sell the baton and use the money to buy Buckfast.

Well, it’s what Rabbie would’ve wanted.

Blue Badge holders only

Disabled people get a bumpy ride in life. Here in Edinburgh, where many streets in the city centre are still cobbled, those bumps are literal as well as metaphorical. A wheelchair needs souped-up suspension to cope. Pimp My Chariot - now there's an idea for a TV series.

Then there are the insults. After generations of schoolchildren had gleefully adopted part of its name as a taunt, in 1994 The Spastics Society decided enough was enough. It rebranded itself Scope in an attempt to shake off the negative connotations its original title held. The charity moved on, but so did the insults. To this day, cries of spaz still ring out across British playgrounds, and the society’s revised name has unwittingly inspired a cunning and popular new variant on the same theme: scoper.

For TFP’s first image of the new year, it was difficult to resist this brutally abusive piece of signage defacement, as seen on Fishers Wynd in Musselburgh. Look at the difference a quick scribble can make - by simply crossing out the word person and replacing it with a brief obscenity, wonders are worked. A mild-mannered sign becomes a cruel and crude assault on the entire disabled community, as well as offending any sensitive passer-by who notices this, er, notice.

Having kicked off 2007 with a classic example of small-minded, pointless and foul-mouthed graffiti, let's hope that such quality can be maintained throughout the year. The standard has been set. The bar has been raised. Or maybe it’s been lowered. Who knows? It doesn’t matter. Let’s see if we can limbo under it anyway.