Sunday, April 22, 2007

This Englishman gets it…..

Hip hips all round for Kent businessman, Tim Allard. He feels so strongly that St George’s Day should be a public holiday that he has given his entire staff of 40 the day off tomorrow.

Full story here

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

OK 'Let's Talk' ­ first question, which one farted?

Someone's just let one go!!

Did you see the Nu Labour party political the other night? What a bloody laugh. It's all about the caring Labour Party interacting with the masses. Nu Labour listens, cares, feels the pain of ordinary folk, blah, blah pass me the sick bag, blah. There was yer commonal garden taxi driver waxing lyrical about what they would say to Tony or Gordon if they were only sat in the back of their cab right now!

Except, that this was Nu Labour and therefore hidden agendas abounded. The taxi driver wasn't a big fat baldy tattooed 50 year old with a picture of his dear old Mum on his dashboard and a rolled up copy of The Sun by his side. No, this taxi driver was a woman, she may have been a lesbian - and I couldn¹t see if she only had one leg or not - but she sure had a lot of questions to ask.. Oh, if only Tony and Gordon were there, they could provide all the answers.

No time to find out, we¹re off to vox-pop land to hear what Janet and John Labour-Plant would say if only Tony or Gordon was standing next to them in the Tesco queue.

Johnny Labour-Plant, a very serious teenager said he would ask them, nay tell them just how important it was to make sure 'Britishness' was taught in schools to ethnic minorities. Johnny failed to tell the audience why it wasn't being taught in Scottish or Welsh schools though. If my kids had been asked, they'd have asked if they had any cheats for 'Grand Theft Auto'....

We cut to a shot of a French juggler. Well he had a stripey jumper on so he must have been.... "Could Monsieur Brown do any juggling?".... A bloke with a rucksack on his back mused whether Brown had yet formulated his Transport policy.....

And so it continued. I half expected a chap in a bowler hat to put down his copy of the FT to ask about business and a bloke dressed from head to toe in bandages to wonder how much money was going into the NHS.... Between you and me, I reckon the camera crew was on location in Cliche Mall, Labourtown....

And then we're back. Back to the taxi-cab. Mrs Taxi driver is asking question after question in her piece to camera. Why won't someone answer her?.. And then, suddenly something stirs on the back seat. We pan, we gasp. For there, sat on the back seat are Tone and Gord. They're both looking a bit suspicious to be honest. Are they preparing to do a runner when they reach journey's end?

Their body language is something to behold. No matter how clever these two think they are, they're not. Fixed grins, staring eyes, hands and buttocks clenched.. They look like they are both under a sentence of death. Suddenly, the cab lurches round a corner, they both pivot. The car straightens yet still Gordon is in Leaning Tower of Pisa 'pivot' position.

No doubt about it, Gordon is squeezing one out.

It looks like it might have been an 'SBD',­ but I could be wrong - it might have been a right royal rasper 'Phhaaaarrrrrpppppp' and if so, the boffins at 'Nu Labout Truth Department' have cleverly put a bit of Tony Blair impassionment over the sound to disguise it. Bullshit always drowns out the whiff of something smelly doesn't it?

We trundle on. Is this whole journey a statement about the last 10 years? Does it sum up Nu Labour's economic policy? Will Gordon have to plant a tree in order to make his fart 'Methane neutral'?

Soon we reach the end of the road. Was this whole production some sort of Freudo-Jungian pastiche on Blair's tenure?.. Was Brown's bodily function a damning indictment of his Boss's handling of Iraq? Were we nearing Tony's terminus? Was this the end of his road?

Anyway, the two Scotsmen didn't do a runner. Blair got out first and stood around, not knowing what to do. I don't think he'd ever been in a taxi before ­- it was obvious that the concept of 'paying his way' had passed him by. Was he going to declare that he would make a donation to charity to cover the cost of the journey?

Eventually, Gordon fumbled, groped into his suit pockets for a couple of notes.

We never actually saw Gordon hand over the cash. He made as if to hand it over, the taxi driver made as if to accept it, thereby giving the impression that a transaction had taken place. And then we faded to end credits and stirry-stirry music. I think the telly people call the technique 'conning the public'....

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Oh, the irony of it all…..

What happens if you are a Welsh person living in Wales but attend an English General Practitioner’s surgery just across the English border – and the Doc gives you a prescription?

Do you.....

A) Pay the near seven quid charge because you are making use of the English National Health Service – and everyone in England obviously has to pay for the medicine?

B) Decide to travel an extra 12 miles in the opposite direction to use a Welsh doctor’s services and thus qualify for free prescriptions – and at the same time lighten the burden on Hereford NHS Trust?

C) Moan, moan, moan, moan and moan so much that the Welsh Assembly cave in and give you a special entitlement card which will, upon presentation qualify you for free prescriptions?

Surprise, surprise, they went for option C .

So next time you sick people of Hereford are coughing and spluttering your way through a quick read of a well thumbed ‘People’s Friend’ in your local surgery and you get into conversation with the Welsh guy in the next seat – just remember who is getting the free prescriptions…..
(Even when they are using English services)

Thursday, April 12, 2007

English and going blind – better read ‘Animal Farm’ quick then….

Well, that didn’t take long did it – English Shire Horse carted off to the knacker’s yard - again…

Another ‘sorry, this expensive drug isn’t for you English’ story breaks – and the surprise is… no one is surprised!. This time it’s retired war hero, 85 year old Jack Strange who is suffering. He’s in danger of going blind for the want of a simple and effective drug that’s available in Scotland but not in England.

Jack has been stumping up the funds for treatment out of his own pocket for the past year – but now all his savings are spent and there’s just the house left to pawn….

No doubt, after a lifetime of work and service, Jack thought the state would look after his failing health….. Sorry Jack, you just don’t fit the New Labour profile mate… you’re not one of the chosen, you’re one of ‘them’…

If you want to qualify to be one of the chosen, then I’m afraid you don’t have a prayer…. For a start you’re English, so that automatically makes you one of ‘them’ – which automatically qualifies you for unlimited supplies of stale bread to make poultices with, some horrible brown tonic that your Mum used to give you and a deluxe pack of vinegar and brown paper for those really nasty suppurating boils……

All the really good gear - the cancer and Alzheimer’s drugs are all on the train to ‘the chosen’ up in Scotland – for their need is apparently more deserving than ours….

And that’s where I came in really, these awful stories of mendacious betrayal reminds me of my O level English - and the book we had to read as part of the course. – Animal Farm by George Orwell.

‘Boxer’ the English Shire horse had worked his guts out for years and was looking forward to a happy retirement – unfortunately, Napoleon, the Scottish piggy with a Tony Blair power complex had other ideas.

He called in the knacker man with his knacker van. His usefulness over, Boxer became something big in the petfood industry. Piggy Napoleon and his piggy Raj henchman toasted Boxer’s good health with the finest Cognac as he was driven off for slaughter…

And they looked from pig to Blair, and from Blair to pig, and from pig to Blair again; but already it was impossible to say which was which…..

Sorry Jack – but you’d better face facts, you’re just a knackered old English Shire horse, mate.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Tory makeover in Scotland - shock

The Conservative Party in Scotland are considering changing their name. Apparently, the Tories are seen as being too English to your average Glaswegian. It appears that the current moniker of ‘Scottish Conservatives’ isn’t quite Scottish enough. So ‘Call Me Dave’ and his stripey-tied perception panels have been working overtime, running a few suggestions up flagpoles, thinking outside boxes and pushing envelopes as far as they can be pushed. - All in an effort to come up with the new exciting new title (with added newness with an extra special ingredient of an exciting blend of new excitement)…

In a vain attempt to discover the truth, Private Dick, 'Alfie Gumshoe' has been rummaging through a few black bin bags round the back of Conservative Central Office… No luck I’m afraid, I couldn't find any – or more likely they don't exist, the fevered febrile cranial constructs of Tory-Thnk-Tankery & Partners Inc have utterly failed to think up even one satisfactory name.

Ever anxious to lend a helping hand, Alfie, the Edward de Bono of the Blogging world has decided devote a bit of grey matter to this imponderable problem. After much research he has come up with the following list that Call Me Dave can have for nothing on account of his party being a bit hard up and all….

The Hearty Bravehearts

Neeps, Tatties and Sensible Policies

The Clan McTory

The Krankies

Policies Galore

No more Rob-Roy Robbery. (We’ll get the cash from the English instead).

The Sean Connery Fan Club

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Next stop, Director General….

Alfie, the good citizen, graduate of the University of Skint and all round nice chap has managed to be voted onto the Audience Panel for a leading current events BBC TV programme….

I heard they were looking for viewers for their panel and applied, daring them to take me on…. And to my utter amazement, they have....... (I must have been awarded the token old scroat position).

Nevertheless, it's all a bit of a bit of a surprise really considering I must write around a letter a week to the Producers of the programme, criticising their vacuous and inaccurate anti-English content and thicko presenters, as they inanely mouth the words on the Autocue without having a rats bum what they are talking about…..

Now I’m on as a member, the duties of the Audience Panel are not to be taken lightly. As well as offering my views, I am expected to put forward ‘suggestions for relevant and current issues for coverage’ to the programme makers.

So that’ll be about the unfair and discriminatory treatment of the English then?….