Time for segregation

It’s as clear as urinating in snow, as they say in this neck of the woods. The era of playing by the rules ended when contradicting parents, ignoring teachers and disrespecting coppers became the norm.

The world segwayed seamlessly into two distinct societies, the conformers and the rebels; all in the cause of money and power.

But what’s to be done about sports dopers, automotive cheats and common or garden anarchists?

Well, years ago DK sanctioned a district in Copenhagen where the rules don’t apply. It’s Christiania. Of course its freedoms are abused but it satisfies some primeval antisocial urges.

So here’s the thing: sport is easy. Just run two systems, the clean and the ‘open’. Similar to the old gents v. players, amateurs v. pros.

For cars, establish two classes, conforming and others, differentiated by eye-watering tax rates.

All non-conformists would have to choose publicly not to conform but accept the consequences of their choice. Importantly no stigma would attach to it.

It can’t work, you say. No? Well the present set up is a train crash so what’s not to like?

Footie ditties

Jurgen, Jurgen, don’t you stop   (to the tune of ‘Horsey, horsey’)

While your fans up on the Kop

Like your grinning when you’re winning

Jurgen Jurgen Jurgen Klopp

and

All the referees are mad    (to the tune of ‘Eviva espagna’ even though he’s Portuguese)

Says Jose Mourinho

Arsene Wenger’s just as bad

Says Jose Mourinho

They just love him in The Shed

Their Jose Mourinho

Even if he fires the Med

Their Jose Mourinho

I’m so special, I’m the one

Says Jose Mourinho

No one tells him when he’s done

That Jose Mourinho

Court banquet

Y’see, Christina will be back soon, perhaps while I’m still conducting my family census in the home counties, dontchya know?

Now before she left for Cymru she let on that she’d be (and I quote) having a lawyer for lunch. From anyone else that would be a chance remark but from CO, our maitraisse d’hotel, it certainly heralded some serious cuisine.

Musing on’t, I reckon she’ll get him in a stew. Perhaps a glass of (old) Baileys as aperitif; traditional porridge to start with, served in chambers – rounded off with lashings of cream.

Any ideas for more courses?

Coin a word


We all use wellingtons, cardigans and hoovers; we bowdlerise and boycott; and use spoonerisms and malapropisms.

Now’s your chance to sanctify somebody you love or hate or simply ignore. Use a name to capture their essential qualities.

I’ll start you off, with a couple of shoe-ins:

A pompous bullying bore: a clarkson.

A mendacious hypocritical self-seeker: a blair.

To piggy-back and exploit another’s success: to hillary.

To get out of jail free: to oscar.

Over to you, coiners!

 

Department of meaningless surveys

The Danes just lurv to find out how well they rate against other countries. The obsession evinces itself every time a commentator spews forth his/her analysis of Denmark’s teams’ performance: ‘Less then world class’, ‘One of Europe’s best’, etc.

And now there’s this:

Click to access rankings_2015.pdf

Bet you didn’t realise that the US of A ranks 90th after Timor-Leste and before Morocco in economic globalisation! Nor did I. Overall the Yanks just beat Slovenia!

Good, ain’t it?

The Marmite of the retail sector

Love them or hate them, M & S commands respect in the biz community. Like coriander in the kitchen perhaps.

I recall just what a demanding time we had whenever as suppliers we were summoned to Baker Street to field ultra detailed questions about our product’s performance in their stores. Any justifiable consumer grouse had to be reimbursed five-fold.

But hey! I hear Backside retort, that was all nearly 50 years ago; although I doubt anything has changed.  So I’m impressed with Cameron’s choice of Stuart Rose, ex M & S boss of renown, to chair the campaign to stay in the EU. Just as Maggie the Great chose an earlier Baker St. Boss to mastermind her slimming of the overfed Civil Service 30 odd years ago.

So when I pop back home later this month, I’ll do homage to St. Michael and top up with hanks and socks, my kind of Marmite and coriander you might say.

Wannabe happy?

I am shocked to read that of all the places expats like to decamp to, Mexico and Russia star in the top ten! The rest seem reasonable choices. But why those two at all? I mean really?

I confess to knowing a bit about Mexico from a family connection over 30-odd years; and my information includes stuff about corruption and feudal attitudes. And how come the Russian social life is so appealing? Any suggestions?

http://www.bbc.com/capital/sponsored/story/20150916-the-12-happiest-destinations-for-expats

Only when I laugh

It’s the pain, doctor.

Where exactly, Janus?

Just here (pointing to heart).

And when do you get it?

Whenever I watch English teams play.

So it’s home-sickness then, the call from home?

No. That’s a sweeter feeling, like hearing I’m to be a grandpa for the 10th time.

Congratulations then! But back to the pain?

Yes. What’s the cure?

Get rid of the sports channels. Watch Danish tv. You’ll feel no emotion whatever and sleep extremely well. That’s the true meaning of ‘hygge’ (pron. hew- ga)!