We have regrouped, dug in and manned our battle stations. A new PM, a determined House and a clear objective: Brexit.
All the Europrats can think about is sending the bill for a budget infringement! Excuse us – we’re still subsidising the Euroflops.
So gawd ‘elp ’em – when they return from their hols.
First time in a pub: was 15, was smuggled in by older boys, had three vodkas and orange, was stretchered out.
Son’s first cup of coffee: I don’t drink the stuff and neither do the offspring, though my younger son decided to take the plunge into the unknown for experimental reasons. He said “JW Jnr’s first cup of coffee”. After much gurning and vomiting he said “JW Jnr’s last cup of coffee!”
First ever video recorder owned: Betamax!!!! The boffins at school (FEEG and all his gang) claimed it was the superior technological weapon in the VCR wars. Later, the hegemony of VHS was ended by DVD. In hindsight, maybe the makers of Betamax should have abbreviated their product: BTX.
First time ever I saw your face: First heard this on the underrated Clint Eastwood film, Play Misty for Me, sung by Roberta Flack. Multitude of singers have covered this song. One of the best is the haunting version by Johnny Cash.
First blog ever written: Was on Bebo ( who remembers Bebo?). It was a strange tale of me in the waiting room at the doctor’s, sitting beside some famous figures. I asked Darth Vader if his sore throat was getting better. As debuts go, it was a precocious start. It’s been downhill ever since.
Anybody out there got any unusual firsts (or seconds) they’d like to share. Keep it clean, guys (and MrsO).
You Huns! Accepting defeat with grace ain’t your bag, eh?
Lewis caught up with Nico and passed him on the final circuit but Nico didn’t like it, caused a little prang and kept on driving with a damaged car. The stewards penalised him, not Lewis.
German fans then booed Lewis on the podium.
And today it will be the yellow-clad Aussies’ turn to show decorum on Centre Court when their potty-mouthed hero meets Andy. Will Nick manage it? Cliff-hanging stuff.
Write some yourself! 
But it has to be said, there’s so much postable news these days, innit?
With the virtual certainty that our next PM will be a Tory lady, second only to our beloved Maggie, we can look forward to pragmatic gubmint, a phenomenon sadly lacking for many years. (Boris hums, ‘Can’t buy me Gove, yeah; everybody tells me so…’)
Meanwhile the Bremainers are still sulking, talking about second votes, about chaos, about Scotland, Ireland and Gibraltar. (Boris did say, ‘What part of Bleave don’t they understand?.)
But the ever-present Welsh are celebrating with a symbolic win over Brussels Belgium, adding fuel to the flames of the English team’s funeral pyre. Their victory only goes to show: England have sweet FA.
And while I’m here, I should mention that Andy’s best chance this year is if his arch opponent loses the third set today to a Yank. Come on, the special relationship.
Nothing else in today’s news, sorry. Oh yes, it’s a peaky blinder. Stylish, huh?
After shedding 17% (or one-sixth in old money) I imagine
our resident counsel must be ready for something special
every morning. May I recommend a visit to Tiffany’s ? But
go lightly on the carbs – or is it the poly-unsaturates these
days? (hums -Moon river la la la la la)
Complete this argument:
Some Old Etonian politicians have read PPE
Some politicians are prats
Therefore……
Answers please on spoiled ballot papers.
Troubles rarely come singly, especially for prima donnas like the England football team that got what they deserved yesterday.
May I point out that more than a few of the Chosen will return to their clubs to discover the world has changed since they left for France?
At Chelsea, Italy’s impassioned boss, Conte, takes charge. At Man City, the legendary Guardiola arrives and at Man United, Mourinho pitches up. If some of the Nice failures think Iceland were tough to face, they ain’t seen nuffin yet. The fact is that any quality the Prem League boasts is down to foreign players; the locals just take the benefits – for now.
And in case anybody is feeling smug about Wales, they are going to get a lesson in quality from Belgium very soon. Gareth cannot save them.
It will be an interesting few days, nay months!
This dripping tap is driving me Miss Daisy. Is there a plumber in the house? Help!
Tonite, folks, it’s the Viking festival of Midsummer (yes, a bit late but blame the Christian hijackers). But the Sun god is out of sorts, it seems – widespread thunderstorms are expected to disrupt the planned bonfires and booze-ups and continue into the weekend. So the Sun will bounce across the northern horizon unseen by human eye.
And what else do the gods have in store? Spooky.
Our beloved country is a curate’s egg. (Consult google if in doubt.)
We have a parliamentary democracy (good?) that regularly disappoints (bad?). Be honest, when did we have a competent PM unsullied by dishonest proclamations?
More importantly, we have sports teams that make inconsistent look unbeatable! Today Wales are the best, England are their usual inscrutable (and Scotland?). Come on, N Ireland!
Milk and sugar, Vicar?
Boadicea's Chariot 
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