Milly kindly gave Auntie his speech so that we can all admire him in anticipation – not.
He is so totally screwed by the English Question that he’s doing a Bliar, fondly believing anybody buys it any more.
10 year plan? In his dreams.
Just browsing. F1 practice. A tweet from the inimitable, Ron’s best mate, JP and bar – fanfare! Phil Slocombe, late of Costa del Sol, China and Chester!
Has he reappeared at the Big House, one wonders?
Backside didn’t mind the damned Scotties playing around with their faux-historical independence, all kilt and no knickers. But now it’s serious. My (not their) beloved Pound is taking a serious hit, owing to their ridiculous fantasy. Down 1% today – forecast to hit minus 5% if the yes mob win. And that’s my pensions which have appreciated very usefully (accounting expression) since the Good Ship GB has sailed out of recession. All to be squandered by Fatty and the Scotchmen. So bugger their pancakes, their mist, their hooch and their baby blue eyes. May their ginger progeny run out of oil and get stuck with the Euro. Which will definitely contribute to their mutual demise.
The dour Scotsman reports that wee Alba will be welcome in NATO.
That means that Fatty will have to muster a militia.
Any idea who’ll do that for him?
A quarter of non-Scottish Brits ‘don’t know’ whether they approve of Scottish independence or not. Three-quarters of those with an opinion are against it. Ah yes, you ask, but why?
Well, here’s my short list of possibilities:
* Scots should get out more
* Who is that fat git?
* Look at what happened to the Picts
* I like Billy Connolly and Rod Stewart
* Princess Royal for Queen of Alba or forget it!
What say you, O cherished wise ones?
A couple of years ago Sir Alex realised the game was up. He was stuck with an overpaid, undertalented bunch of never-quite-weres. Best to get out while his own rep was intact. But he was so good at his own PR that the Mancunian back-office never even dreamed a dour grafter like David couldn’t just take over and continue the Reds’ ride to glory.
That was the first mistake.
Next up, the campaign to show that it was all David’s fault. All they neeeded now was a fabled disciplinarian like Louis to gee up the squad and everything in the garden would be rosy Red again.
That was the second mistake.
And finally let’s spend an astronomical 100 million bucks on a new player! He’s bound to turn the bus round.
Or is he the third mistake? Will Real’s divine Angel find himself in purgatory? The Reds’ old boys, now airing their doubtful wisdom around the meeja, will be the first to tell him he’ll fail. Watch the American owners get out from under before you can say Bobby Charlton.
- a charismatic person who attracts followers
- one that offers strong but delusive enticement
- a leader who makes irresponsible promises
Need one say more?
Prince’s 1999 song was rarely played on December 31st 1998 yet a year later was used extensively on various radio stations/disco 2000s to welcome in the millennium. We partied 364 days and whatever minute it was too late. One of these anomalies we have in life. I didn’t party. I was Doctor Whoming behind the sofa, with my whimpering K9, awaiting Armageddon. Something wicked this way comes.
The millennium bug was the end of days. Looking back now I don’t know why I was so worried. I did not possess a computer at the time (Y2K). The worst that could have happened to me would be that the toaster wouldn’t work. And this would have nothing to do with broadband issues or other related online jargon. The trouble would be dodgy wiring in the plug; when you’ve chubby fingers it’s hard to put that little wire in the right place; Major Tom to earth etc. Still, like the glorious Gaynor, I survived.