Pretty Sure it's not supposed to get hotter from 11pm

Whatever fragments of the delusion I was Scottish I had left were ground to dust this morning. I was interviewing the drummer from a Scottish rock band and his accent completely destroyed me. And his last name didn't even start with "Mc". I thought I had 15 minutes worth of questions but he bellowed out his answers with rapid mirth in about eight. It's going to take me days to translate. I was hopeful for kinship; I guess I'll be less frugal from this point on.

Result of my drive home:
Google Search for "Men's Parasol" returns only 10 results.
eBay search for "Men's Parasol" returns 'Did you mean "Hat"?'