Hold my lippie, sanity has indeed prevailed.

Yes, Scottish geezers are still free to cosplay north of the border with their gender recognition certificates even if what they’re holding in the one hand is as scarcely convincing as the big ole hairy balls they have in the other.

After all, we are all free to identify as basketballs if we so choose.

Ultimately, a GRC – get me! – is really just a free pass to evade the smirking that any bearded, mini-skirted, bounding Goliath faces when staggering and weaving down the high street in Empire-state Jimmy Choos.

It’s all bollocks, as indeed are the contents of their Victoria’s Secrets.

No problem with any of this cockamamie cock-maiming, but common sense has now prevailed, and chaps will no longer be able to declare themselves lassies after just a bad day at the office.

All of this will doubtless come as a relief to the cops, who can now dedicate some serious slog to rooting out the killers and rapists in their own ranks, rather than pandering after the kinks of gender-bending Jock knob-folders, throwing hissies over the odd casual piss-take.

For all those who felt that the Tories were the paladins of political suicide, the SNP are now offering them all a serious run for their money, which may well twist a chunk of the electorate.

Even Sir Queer Harmer sees it as a bandwagon too far.