John Gibson: We need a Minister of Gullture

What's needed to rid Edinburgh of its big-beak, loose-bowel scavengers (you've got humans in mind?) is a Gullture Minister. Meaning those bloody, dead gallus gulls, of course.

Better they're dead. They're turning the Capital into a tip.Ripping open kerbside bin bags, scattering the contents. A revolting early-morning spectacle. Enough to make you bring up your fry-up breakfast.

The imaginative Scottish Parliament is accomplished at creating jobs with fancy titles, appropriately salaried. Your nominations, please, for Minister of Gullture.

Can I stress I wouldn't be a runner? They wouldn't entertain a Gullture Minister berserk in the Capital's streets shouting "exterminate, exterminate!"

Collar your local councillor to campaign for a referendum for a cull, a wipe-out of the Capital's gulls.

Fringe chopped

Frozen out of the Fringe? Edinburgh Sports Club at Belford by the River wouldn't say so. "Listen," says the club's ever upbeat bar manager Steve Sproule, "there's no freeze. We ooze warmth here.

"It's just that we've been a Fringe attraction these past two years and this year we're taking a break. But on a couple of Fridays we're staging our own little show featuring the Fraser MacNaughton group. Fiddles and pipes."

A Hibs-supporting Herioter, Fraser is home for a few weeks from Abu Dhabi where he teaches music.

He has a feel for festive Edinburgh, having performed on The Mound for the bells. Belford details from Steve at the club.

Afterwords . .

. . . Deborah Meaden, pictured, the Dragons' Den face like fizz that can turn milk sour at a hundred paces and makes Anne Robinson come over like a bunch of cuddles. I can think of no more damning insult at this moment in time, as they keep saying in football. She has to be the ultimate Gestapo in knickers.