Tony Blair fesses up.....

I had to laugh watching Princess Tony’s confession yesterday to the Commons liaison committee. It turns out he and his so-called government don't have a policy on population in the UK of any kind. Yeah, that’s right, I laughed in a wearisome, ‘we are ruled by a moronic toe rag claque of vacuous cretins' sort of way, as our glorious leader went into his standard fallback position of righteous indignation and turbo hand gesturing mode – trying to defend another catastrophic failure of public duty.

We must be the only western country in the world that doesn't have a policy on population - and shame on them for that. But I don't expect anyone was too surprised - this bloody shower of duffers couldn't shut a barn door – before… or even after the three-legged pantomime horse has limped off.

And yet we hear about 'sustainable development this' and ‘sustainable growth that' as some government lackey stands up and announces yet another million new house building initiative to go on some cunningly coined 'Gateway' area of countryside in the South East of England.

Sustainability is only achievable if you have a strategic bigger picture in mind and are aware of the limits of that bigger picture. In the case of England, you are never further than 72 miles from the coast – Or else, sustainability can only be achieved via a never-ending series of Gateway sites in a country that goes on forever. We appear to have neither.

This Nu Labour project breezed to power in 1997 in a Nu Wave of Nu Order optimism. One of the cornerstones of their manifesto was to decentralise. Take the heat out of the South East, spread the public offices of State and the private economic cash cow all around the country – for everyone’s benefit.

Well, surprise, surprise, that commitment soon foundered along with all the other pie in the sky waffle speel from the 1997 manifesto. Good intentions got stuck in a traffic jam on the road to hell. The back of a fag packet strategy, cheap headlines for tomorrow’s chip papers fed to a supine BBC became Princess Tony’s preferred modus operandi. Policy pronouncements on the hoof – travelling light with his six pack of spin doctors, a bullet-proof limo, a bumper can of volume hair spray and a speech writer head hunted from The Shopping Channel is the norm nowadays. Long term planning: responsible, non party political government became a distant memory as Tony chased ever more sensational headlines - and showcased ever more short term psycho babble .....and called it ‘Policy’

Long term responsible policies, you know the stuff that doesn’t grab the headlines has been left until it ceases to be long term – and because of Nu Labour dithering falls into the medium and short term policy areas….. only then is it picked up on Blairadar…

Energy, Law & Order, Defence, The Constitution…. and now ‘Population’. All areas of ‘bigger than party politics’ policy simply ignored by this shambles of a Government. I’d have thought ‘population’ would have been right up there in the vanguard of the Nu Labour thought process. England is the 4th most densely populated country on Earth. So if we are to have up to 50 new ‘Gateways’ built on virgin Southern countryside in order to shoehorn millions of new workers in millions of new houses to satisfy the white hot centralisation of the South East service economy, where is the ‘sustainability’?

I want to live in a happy, contented country - not one in which every single public amenity is in calamitous meltdown because it’s a cheapo sticking plaster solution or because some utility or service is being asked to cater for many more people for which it was originally designed. A responsible government is supposed to put the electorate at the top of its agenda and plan for the future in a mature and responsible way…..

Looks like Nu Labour don’t do mature and responsible – they don’t read well on tomorrow’s chip papers.

Scottish survey finds unpalatable truth?

Hmmmm,

*Report finds extreme Scottish Nationalism fuelling anti English sentiment
*SNP voters more likely to be Anglophobic than supporters of other parties.
*High level of anti-Muslim feeling across Scotland.....

Read all about it here

Today is my 53rd birthday.....

I share my birthday with Franz Kafka(123), Ken Russell(79), Tom Stoppard(69) and Tom Cruise(44).

Today my diet is on his holidays.

Today, I shall be going down to the Blood Tub and drinking a lot – starting with Adnams ale and ending up on the floor – a complete A to Zzzzzzzzzzzzz of English alery.

I shall be meeting Franz, Ken and the two Toms there – we’ll laugh, tell stories and get pissed on the fruit of Kent. Kafka will be a bit quiet on account of him being completely dead.. (it’ll still be more than we get out of Cruise though)……

Preserved for the Nation …

I had a strange letter through the post the other day – from no less an organisation than The British Library in London. It was a bit of a surprise to say the least – did they want that ‘Famous Five do crack cocaine’ book I borrowed in 1964? No they did not. Phew, relief all round, it’s doing a great job stopping our table from wobbling. No, they were more interested in a web site that me, my wife and our good friends Ed and Pete had recently put together and uploaded. It’s an English Nationalist site and has been up for little more than a couple of months.

They’ve sent an invitation for the site to participate in their ‘web preservation programme’

The letter states –

‘The British Library is a founding member of the UK Web Archiving Consortium consisting of The British Library, JISC, The National Archives, The National Library of Scotland, The National Library of Wales and The Wellcome Library.

The British Library would like to invite you to participate in this pilot project by archiving your web site under the terms of the appended licence. We select sites to represent aspects of UK documentary heritage, and as a result, they will remain available to researchers in the future. If the pilot is successful the archived copy of your web site will subsequently form part of our permanent collections……….."

Wow, our little English Nationalist site 'representing aspects of UK documentary heritage' ...... abso bloody lutely!!!

I’ve had a look at the archive of sites already collected – and it looks like a pretty exclusive club. I think I feel quite chuffed. Only question is, which section will our site be put in? 'Sad', 'Mad', 'Bad', 'Dangerous to Know' or 'New Labour Bogeymen'....... Who cares, we're in!

Well blimey Moses, who’d have thought it then? Our site preserved for the Nation…. (But not necessarily safe from being sold to a rich Yank).

I expect a Knighthood to be on the way shortly.

A.B.A. (Anyone but Andy)

OK.
Got my Strawberries - check
Got my Cream - check
Got my Chile Flag to wave - check
Got my Chile shirt to wear - check
Got my Spanish/English phrasebook - check
Got my translation of 'Andy, I hate your miserable Anglophobic guts - I hope you lose 6:0, 6:0, 6:0 - and that the oooohhh, aahhhh brigade in the posh seats slow handclap you right out of Wimbledon"". - check......

Come on Nicolas Massu, from Chile - blast the miserable sod off the court!

This guy's got a point......

I thought this email to the Telegraph website today raises a few interesting points about the Scottish psyche...
(and when was the last time you saw a black Scottish footballer or rugby player playing for one of the national teams?)

"The Telegraph refuses to print criticism of anything Scottish, and its correspondents try hard to maintain the English tradition of sucking up wildly to their northern enemy (whatever happened to challenging stereotypes?), a people whose undisguised hatred of their southern benefactor rarely diminshes confidence that insults and abuse will do nothing to alter Scotland's highly favourable financial arrangements with Westminster. Indeed one only has to visit Scots Nats' websites - which claim it is Scots who subsidise the English - to see that everything is never enough where this grasping, implacably hostile neighbour is concerned. Scots run our government. By common consent they are 'influential' in running the state broadcasting corporation. At the same time they dislike attention, and are ever careful to maintain the pose of eternal victims, whether it be in public displays of indignation over the corporation's choice of World Cup music or a more general whinge, given prominence at the BBC's website, about 'anglo-centric' bias. But last year this Scottish government quietly closed all Scotland's asylum offices, so our friends from abroad will all be coming to England in future. Then there is the noble multiculturalist agenda of Scottish parliamentarians, vociferously supported in any number of speeches in the House, but which in the thirty years since Viv Anderson became the first Black player to represent England at football has yet to result in a single non-White representative in any national Scottish team sport - football, rugby, athletics etc. Think about it. Join the dots. I know the Telegraph censors will think about it - and then decide this shouldn't be printed."

Posted by Edward Gibson

Della Petch shown a straight red ….

I listened.

From 7 o’clock onwards last night on FiveLive’s footy phone-in radio programme, a couple of socca-jocks were fielding the phone lines. One was rotund, half-Croatian, half-English and half West Brommer Brummy anchorman, Adrian Chiles. The other was fugitive war criminal, habitual liar, plastic Englishman and all round bad egg, Tony ‘Geordie’ Blair.

I listened, hoping that someone, anyone would break through the Maginot line of BBC censorship. Could any English nationalist get through to disturb the fawning, the adulation, the Blair-is-a-God crew from ringing in? Grovelling footy questions were on the menu and nothing else…"Tony, I think you’re a brilliant kinda guy and that you should be our manager…. And our top striker…. And our goalie"

It sort of smelled a bit like another NuLabour rentagrovel operation.

Half an hour in, and I’m feeling like puking up. Chiles is creeping like Uriah Heep on a creep mission to the biggest creep in the world. He’s going for a Knighthood – or at least permission to water his garden with a hosepipe…

Chiles is brown-nosing so much, he’s reached the small intestine. Tony is smiling, confident in the knowledge that his sketchy footy knowledge can out do any hand picked grovelling phone innerer…..

The thoughts of Tone began to expand. ’Operation Earnest Guy’ kicked in…. "Look, I think that everyone in the You Kay should support England – I mean, if Scotland had got to the World Cup Finals, then I would have no problem in supporting them – and I know most people in England would support them also"…..

Sorry, did I just hear right? Scotch Tony. ‘Jocky’ Blair would support Scotland if they reached the Dubbya Cee Effs?…. Is this man totally mad? Worse still, does he think we're all a few chips short of a haggis butty or what?

And that’s the wonder of Tony Blair isn’t it?– He’s left his Edinburgh birthplace, his posh Scottish school and his orthodox Scottish Christian upbringing behind…… and reinvented himself. Posh Jocky Tone is now Streetwise Geordie Tone, brought up in a Gateshead sink estate, smawwkin’ Woodbines by the time he was 10 and worshipping W’or Jackie Milburn from the Gallagher End in the baggy shorted glory years….

The hour is almost up, jock-jocky Tone is fielding footy mundanity with consummate ease. There is just 5 minutes to go and no one has yet broken through the offside trap ….

Or have they?

Adrian Chiles, coming up for air and removing an appendix from his throat, Brummily drones into the mike….. "And now we have err, ‘Della Petch’ on the line, she wants to ask a question about England, Prime Minister"….

Della Petch is on the line! Petchy has managed to ghost through on the blind side like a dead George Best – and now she’s here, right in front of goal.

I punch the air. Della ‘bite yer legs’ Petch is about to unleash a goal-bound shot…..

Chopper Petch opened up - "Why is the Prime Minister supporting England when he’s doing his utmost to turn England into a group of Euro-regions"…..

Poacher Petch had scored a beauty. It flew from her fabled right foot and nestled into the top corner of the net. 1 – 0 to the 50 million I think! For a few seconds, the ordinary kinda guy did a passable impression of a fish…. ‘Ordinary kinda guy’ noises sorta flopped out of him. Was he appealing for handball, a two footed tackle, or even worse, a bit of independent thinking?

Just then, Chiles, the basket-case in the black whipped out his red card. Petch was sent for an early bath…….. "ooooooh ‘eck, let’s move onto Cherie from London"…..

And so ended Blair’s fraternisation with the footy phone in……
Next week, Tony tries his hand at gardening with Monty Don…

Tony Blair - footy pundit

W'or Tony Blair, ordinary kinda guy, secret Scotsman, Newcastle fan, war criminal, serial liar, free holiday blagger and now footy pundit will be hosting Radio FiveLive's footy phone in programme, 606 from 7pm onwards tonight.

He is expecting lots of calls from footy fans about the world cup - but maybe, you could change your question from a sporting one to a political one once on air in order to get past the researcher vetting.....

Info about the prog -
here

Expect to see the magic sponge on numerous occassions......

Pitchside footy report from Des Frankly

Good evening footy fans, Des Frankly, footy pundit here reporting live from Munchen..... Isn't the World Cup just great? It's the biggest global television event in existence. It dwarfs the Olympics into a very poor second place, the opening game was watched by a worldwide audience of nearly 2 billion people - that's not far off a third of the world's population. Football is the beautiful game - it's also the global communicator - who'd have thought that the severed head of an enemy and two coats of mail could grow and blossom into the global phenomenon it is today....

I've enjoyed pretty much all the games, apart from Brazil v Croatia. The game itself was OK(ish) - but the commentary from creeping John Motson and gushing Mark Lawrenson was just nauseating. Brazil are a good team - but they ain't a great team, Ronaldo and Ronaldhinio are both bloody ugly and their two full backs, Roberto Carlos & Kafu have a collective age of over 70 years.

Motson was having orgasms, Lawro was swooning as some guy in yellow did a bit of playground standard keepy-uppy. Brazil are not invincible, they are old and crusty - for that matter so is Motson. All he seems to do is "oooooooh" and "aaahhhhhh" at every opportunity. He routinely misses the action, gives loads of rubbish info and generally waffles for England.

The team that have most impressed me is the Czech Republic. It was a triumph of footy over sacca as they absolutely murdered the USA pilgrims with a sparkling display of skill and creativity.

Karel Bruckner, the Czech team manager is a brilliant coach and master tactician. He's had the job for years and always sets his teams up to play fast flowing creative football. His resources are limited - virtually all the Czech team are overseas playing for other continental clubs, so bonding sessions, get togethers and golf days are unheard of. But what is most amazing is Bruckner's salary. He gets a rather pathetic 65 grand a year from the Czech football federation. Sven Gormless Errikson on the other hand is paid around that much for one 'working' week. Bruckner has forgotten more about football than Sven will ever know. But not only that, he's a real rarity in footy world – talented, loyal, honourable - and not very greedy either.

The cross of St Gordon……

This Opinion’ article by Chris Deerin in yesterday’s Scotsman on Sunday’ sums up beautifully Gordon Brown’s dilemma…..

As SNP boss, Alex Salmond said in the Commons last week, "Gordon Brown is morphing into an Englishman" .

Well, he’s surely trying to…….

St George – reclaimed apparently….

Watching BBC news 24 today saw a group of Fleet Street’s finest sat round a big walnut table reviewing the Sunday ‘papers. The big topic of conversation was how the whole country going St George’s flag mad…..

Everyone said they knew nothing about football and grinned in that sort of superior grinny way that self-proclaimed intellectuals cultivate to bathroom mirrors. Everyone thought that it was "a good thing" that the flag had been ‘reclaimed from the right’….

Death-rattling Ann Leslie, the crusty old hack from the Daily Mail proclaimed"It’s really great to see the St George’s flag reclaimed from the far right – one wonders just what they (the far right) will be using as a symbol to further their message of hate in the future"….

Hmmmm, now I’m no Fleet Street hot shot Ann, but I reckon they just might turn to the Union flag……. Or maybe they already have? Maybe the hint is in the name of a typically far right organisation. For instance, I wonder what the ‘B’ in BNP actually stands for?

Taliban Tam….

"Come on you Mullahs!!!"...

I’m not going to the World Cup this year….. but I know a man who is. Unlike me, I can’t afford to go - but he’s over there courtesy of BBC licence money. Unlike me, he hates England with a passion. Unlike me, he wants England to lose – at every opportunity. Unlike me, he’ll support ‘anyone but England’…..

His name? Nicky Campbell, aka ‘Taliban Tam’, aka BBC FiveLive ‘Breakfast Show’ anchor and occasional ‘Watchdog’ presenter on TV. Campbell has quite openly professed to really not liking England at all – in fact just before the last World Cup, TT proclaimed to a largely English audience that if England were playing a Taliban XI, then he would be forced to support the mullahs……

Obviously, it was all ‘said in jest’.

Obviously, English people are supposed to take the insult in good heart – as all part of the love hate relationship with ourselves and the jocks (or Republican Irish in his case).

Obviously, I wrote to his BBC producer to complain about how a man who despises the only Home country to reach the World Cup Finals should be going over to the tournament in the first place – twice.

Obviously, he totally ignored me – twice.

Obviously, I have complained to BBC Head Honcho, Michael Grade.

Obviously, in around 6 months time I’ll get a standard ‘sod off’ letter from some poxy BBC office ‘Standard Bullshit Reply Division’…..

Chavtastic!!!!!!

Chav Towers, chav Son (with new chav name of) ‘Tyson’ and ‘Bling’ the wonder dog.

Alfie has finally chucked out the sophisticated high art pictures of the ‘Green Chinese Lady’ and the ‘Dancing Gypsy’ for a change of image. The façade of sophistication has been well and truly binned, forever (or more likely until the World Cup is over)…….

He has decided to go a bit chavvy, in a resolute attempt to upset all those hand wringing journos at The Guardian and the Independent. People like the ugly bird, Janet Street Furniture and Jonathan Barker have been doing their sneering best to rubbish the current red and white love in with the St George’s flag.

So I got this big, big flag, size 9ft x 6ft for the startlingly reasonable price of a penny under a fiver. It is now proudly fixed to the outside of our house – and will remain there until England have won the competition (confident or what?)

‘Bling’ the wonder dog on the lookout for hapless Guardian readers…. GRRRRRR.

If.......... only.

A poem inspired while I was having a solo Kipple.
(Well, everyone likes Kipling, don’t they? Come on now, admit it - there's nothing to be ashamed of. I've yet to meet a man who hasn't done the odd bit of Kipling)….

Becks….
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming the referee,
If you can trust yourself when the opposition goad you,
And make allowance for their diving knavery;
If you can wait and not be riled into fighting black and blue,
Or being spat and gobbed at, so don’t get fazed,
Or being taunted, don't give way and lose your cool,
And yes you still look good, at least from Elton’s gaze

If you can dream of winning - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think positive - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and not Disaster
And understand Sven’s tactics just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by tabloid hacks to make a trap for fools,
So bend the ball into a footy net, broken,
And with the team of England lift the precious jewel

If you can talk with crowds and keep your hair nice,
Or walk with Posh – and not mind if she looks naff,
If neither German foes nor so called friends can hurt you,
Or scheming Argentineans get you an early bath,
If our lads could actually win a penalty shoot out,
And not blow it by leaving the nation glum,
If you can fill the injury time minute
With sixty seconds' worth of celebration run,
Yours is the World - cup and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

COME ON ENGLAND!!!!!!!!!

No shame….

Bandwagon alert as Tony ‘cool Britannia’ Blair and David Donald Cameron have both come over all ‘adjacently patriotic’. Ever anxious to jump onto the latest host ‘must be seen with’ cause, jock boys Tone and Dave have parasitically attached themselves to the banner of St George in the belief that they can garner kudos from an English sporting celebration.

For Call me Dave, it’s yet another opportunity to big up his populist agenda – for Princess Tony it’s a chance to give a body swerve to ‘ChippolattaPrescottgate’, ‘Homeofficegate’ & 'Cashforhonoursgate'....... and who knows, if Becks and the boys should win the World Cup, how galling will it be to be received at Number 10 by two fawning Scotsmen, Princess Blair and Dour git Brown. God, I feel sick just thinking about it.

All we need now is for Ming to declare he is wearing St George’s flag undies and has just had 3 lions tattooed onto his bum and we’ll have a full house of Scotsmen selling their tartan souls for a bit of adoration by association, by osmosis……

Arise, Sir David Beckham………

And then, last night, I strolled into Tesco on a bit of a spying mission. Rumours are they were ‘supporting England’ I could hardly get in courtesy of the simply massive England beer display, St George’s bunting, flags, face-painting….

Shock of shocks, they were even selling products with a St George’s flag on the packaging. Admittedly, they were only bottle openers and chiller bags, but even so, I thought it was simply amazing. You’d have thought that because England is such a complex and huge country, it would be absolutely impossible to do such a thing. I’d have thought it would have brought the entire Tesco empire to its knees, everyone’s arses would drop off, Coronation Street would finish – and the world as we know it will end ……. just like Charlotte, Eve, Linda and Kim from Tesco customer care are always telling us……

6:6:6 – the sign of the beast.

Fellow members of the Dubbya club – I see what you mean regarding the Numpty man, he’s barking, totally barking.

I dipped a toe into Numptyworld over the weekend – I wish I hadn’t bothered. The guy’s a basket case, obsessed with English nationalist sites – and writing such utter bombastic vitriol about them as to be scarcely believable.

In Numptyworld, to disagree is to commit the ultimate sin. Numptyswearing, Numptyranting and Numptyhumptyness is sure to follow……

I wasn’t angry, I sort of felt sorry for him. The cancer of hate is flourishing within, eating him away, a festering boil, fit to burst, .

In the end, it did burst. Numpty’s power of reason, never very strong, or reasoned, finally gave way – and he became a boorish bar room yobbo. Numpty invited me to f**k off – twice.

In the end, I did – I had some interesting white emulsion that I wanted to watch dry (yawn)……

One question he never answered though – in spite of me asking it 4 times. The question was ’Did Numpty hold the same contempt for Mebyon Kernow, Plaid and the Scottish Nationalists as he most obviously does for English Nationalists – or did he regard them as valuable political parties, fighting for their own people in a noble and just cause?

I haven’t provided a link to Numpty and his blog of hate, just as I don't provide links for any other extreme sites - I just don’t see the point.

In Numptyworld, no one can hear you reason…….

Bard toy......

For the Englishman who thinks he has everything.....
there is this classy number

Justice for England – Team Blair sign up…..

Tuesday, May 30th, London, England.
At great expense to the taxpayer, King Tony and his lovely consort, Queen Cherie have broken into their freebie holiday in Tuscany, grabbed a passing ‘plane from the Queen’s Flight and flown back to grey old Blighty to publicly support the Justice for England campaign. As Queen Cherie so succinctly explained, “It was the least we could do, the cause is just and noble – and anyway, it tops up our ‘Air miles’ portfolio…… by the way, are there any fees for this engagement?”….

With great ceremony, gravitas and bravura, King Tony wafted his hands around a lot, overloaded on pregnant pauses, wiped a tear from his eye and declared that if England were a foreign country then he would be tempted to invade it in order to restore democracy. A journalist politely pointed out that as he was in fact a Scot, England was therefore a country foreign to him. He had therefore already invaded and occupied – along with the rest of the Scottish Rajanistas, but had singularly failed to restore any sort of democracy - except for the undemocratic kind.

King Tony flatly denied he was a Scot “Och nooo, Jimmy. I can absolutely say with utter Anglo Saxon absolution that I am not a Scot, just an ordinary kinda English guy….Why, even now I can remember hearing the sound of Bow Bells ringing from the Newcastle Town Hall when I was born. Pearly Kings, whelks, jellied haggis……. I’m a true cockernee-geordie sparrer-magpie geezer and no mistake, gavnor. Gor blimey I can still remember my childhood baggy-shorted England football heroes striding out on the green, black and white sward of Wembley - Stanley Matthews, Tommy Lawton, ‘W’or’ Jocky Wilson, Prezza the midfield terrier, Mel Gibson, Wee Willie Wallace, Jackie & Bobby Krankie, Lobby Ludd, Robbie Fowler…..er, Nobbie Burns…. Bobby Bruce …. and that great Newcastle United forward line of Charles, Rennie and McIntosh…. Poetry in motion…. Away the lads and all that!”..…..

Unfortunately for the campaign coffers, King Tony, citizen number 1 declined to divvy up the necessary coinage for the ribbons - giving the excuse that he’d left his purse on a balcony in a Tuscany villa. Cherie couldn’t help either – she never discusses money, only fees. By way of a diversionary tactic, Queen Cherie, citizen number 2 suddenly declared that everyone should pray for England. With great aplomb, and showing rare resolve in managing for once not to look like a corpse, Queen Cherie put her hands together and said “Repeat after me…….

God help England”…..

Amen to that, Missus.

Billy Bragg meets a hand wringer….

My mate John went to a B.B. gig in Manchester recently. In between songs, during one of his little political speechettes, Billy got hold of a St George’s Flag and held it aloft. He told the audience how important it was to celebrate the forthcoming St George’s Day, toast the country’s Saint, celebrate Englishness – and generally have a good time. He also said that if everyone in England took ownership of the flag, it would be safeguarded from any hijacking from the far right.

Just then, a woman from the audience stood up and shouted "But Billy, I cannot accept the St George’s Flag……. It’s just too ‘white’. There’s no black or brown on it"……

Bragg, thought for a moment and screamed…. "For f*cks sake, do you see what I’m up against"…

Bill, I really, really do.

Who’d have thought it…

You know, I just never thought I’d see the headline, ‘Fat, lazy, incompetent, small willied dullard DPM knows the rules of croquet - shock’

In defence of the patriotic white van man…..

I don’t know about you, but I’ve noticed a bit of a journalistic vendetta lately against drivers of white vans sporting those little St George’s flags out of their windows. Readers of the Guardian will know that their reporters have been condescendingly rubbishing White van man, Mondeo Man and VW man – any damn man with a car, a window and a St George’s flag sticking out of it for weeks now. Independent guest columnist, Janet Street Porter has also been pouring particular vitriol upon WVM and their flag waving brethren. I doubt these pampered illiberal liberals have ever met any 'white van men' – save for the bloke struggling into their home-counties houses carrying a new freezer. I myself only know one – he wears the regulation WVM white T-shirt, he has a shaven head, he has tattoos on his arms and a flag dangling out of his van window – as well as a a St George’s flag air freshener. He also happens to be a member of Mensa. Does that therefore mean all white van men have an IQ of over 150? Do you think he should paint his white van to 'grey matter' colour?

And that’s the nub really. Fascists like Brooker, Harker and the woman who can open bin lids with her teeth are content to earn their crusts rolling out clichés by the bucket load. Sneering elitism from a liberal cabal, worried that those below stairs may be getting just a little bit uppity by publicly expressing an afinity. Why do they appear to have such a big problem with the manifestation of a specifically English nationalism? Why do they ALWAYS equate it to low brow Neanderthal behaviour, knuckle draggers and divs? Why cannot we be allowed to celebrate OUR own national identity like everyone else does without some liberal Islington bigot from the Guardian crying 'far right'?

If a man in a white van sticks a flag out of his van window - big deal, it's his business and no one else's, ain't it?. It's his decision alone. My advice to the Indy and Guardian hand wringing brigade, why don’t you just mind your own bleeding business, or better still, why don’t you fly off to the USA for the duration. You will find ‘old glory’ flying from most public buildings, in every single classroom and on a hell of a lot of American lawns….. but Janet, if you do go there, don’t diss their flag, they’ll lock you up for it.

Do you think Brooker, Street Porter and co will be writing such hand-wringing articles just prior to 2012 - London Olympics when the Union flag will be pasted on anything that moves?

Do you think he will be saying we MUST drag the Union flag back from the BNP?

Somehow, I doubt it.

Eeee 'eck there's brass in sleaze tha' knows....

Blimey, looks like it's sleazaamundo overload any day now as Iain and Guido's The Little Red Book of New Labour Sleaze hits the bookshops in the coming week.

Bloggers, united in their common loathing for NuLabour's Caligula Blair, Chippolata Johnny, Mad dog bite yer legs Reidy, and Gordon, the boy with the charisma bypass, have all contributed to the book.... including myself.

And I have to say, it was truly aNuLabour of love writing the pieces....

Anyone interested in getting a copy while it's hot, hot, hot, click the link on the right....

When Alfie met Scilla and Christine…..

Last Thursday, me, myself and my second oldest son cruised the 100 or so miles up a fluid M6 to the noble English town of Penrith, Cumbria.

We breezed all the way up at around 85, it was a bloody perfect warm blue sky evening, hardly any traffic on the road, everyone seemed happy apart from the suicidal insects totalling themselves on my windscreen.

We pulled into the Penrith Rugby Union Club car park at around 7:25 – just five minutes to go to the start of the meet. Walking toward the club-house we looked westward across the pitch, the brooding peaks of the Lake District punctured the sky. Saddleback and Skiddaw, cathedrals in stone dominated the horizon as we stood routed in admiration at this fantastic display. A setting Sun and a palette load of subtle hues seemed to rubber stamp our very reason for being there….. this was England, cradle of the democratic process, giant of culture, research and progress – and it was damn well worth fighting for.

We strolled into the hall, there were about 50 people in there – and I have to be honest, most of them were crusties (and I include myself in that category) which was a little disappointing – where were all the young ‘uns? We sought out the bar, bought a couple of scoops and a raffle ticket - and meandered back to the hall. I greeted Christine Constable, speaker for the English Democrats. We’ve met quite a few times before – and no doubt will be meeting her a lot more in the future as more and more of my time is dedicated to furthering ‘the cause’….. Just then, a woman came up to me and said "Are you Alfie?"

And I was.

Scilla Cullen from the CEP had just introduced herself. She seems a very nice lady – and she was first up with her talk, which was basically about the just cause for an English Parliament. She was then followed by Christine, who gave a more political slant to proceedings and expanded the discussion to other issues including Europe etc.

The BBC was there, doing a report for last Sunday’s Politics Show. Obnoxious reporter, Max ‘hair dye by L’oreal’ Cotton swanned around wearing a beige safari suit with built in designer creasage - honestly, it was straight out of the John Noakes workwear wardrobe. He prowled around, privately rubbishing the arguments here, attempting to belittle us there…… "I mean, if a Scottish Nationalist stood in Chester, would you vote for him?"…… He threw that one to me and my mate Ed whilst he was having a fag break outside…… What the hell did that mean – is he on summat or what?"

Fortunately, we didn’t have to ask him what drugs he might be on - the fittest girl in the entire Universe had just sashayed past us. She had just come out of the adjoining gym and wasn’t so much wearing clothes as parading in spray-on paints…..

Just then, Max had to rush off to attend to something or other, sort of near to where the girl was walking……

Back to politics. The evening was a great success – and I have to say was reasonably reported by Max on Sunday, although I was a little disappointed that the only part of my anatomy to get on the telly was my right foot.

Still, I managed to win a bottle of red wine in the raffle….

And when I came out of the meeting with dusk gathering all around we climbed into the car, a new kind of determination sort of grew out of me. I resolved to double my efforts - to fight for the cause, to shout as loud as I could to let the good folk of England know what is going on in their country…….

It’s the least they deserve.

Democracy - what is it good for?

Lord Falconer is having an invitation only 'public meeting' at the Palace of Westminster today, all about the 'Renewal of Democracy' (whatever that means).....

My spies tell me not all the attendees are quite as 'on-side' as the NuLabour's rentaclack crew might at first believe..... so to speak..... if you see what I mean. Apparently, there are a few brave souls there who are actually going to ask some awkward questions..... Watch out for the heavies boys!

I have a feeling Charlie boy is going to have a surprisingly rough day today.

Priorities…..

Sorry, I’ve been away doing me veg’, planting out me toms, spring onions, lettuce - and having yet another go at growing Fennel – it is definitly ‘Verdant City’ in my humble strip of England at the moment. ….. BTW, we’ve just come into the asparagus season. East of England asparagus is the finest in the world, bar none – and it’s as cheap as chips and as tasty as anything. Get it while you can!

You can just never find an English person when you really want one can you?

Letter to the BBC complaints office…..
‘Talking Politics’, broadcast on Radio 4 - Sat 15 Apr - 11:00.

’I wish to make a very strong complaint regarding this programme. It was discussing devolution and the 'English question'. The show host was Scottish, she talked to Magnus Linklater, a Scottish journalist, then to Mr Campbell Bannerman, Scottish chair of UKIP and finally, Prof Robert Hazell - head of 'The Constitutional Unit'. (Mr Hazell is a Blair poodle, obsessed with driving through NuLabour's vision of English regionalisation - so he spent the entire show rubbishing the prospectus of an English Parliament).

Mr Hazell proceeding to quote research that was years out of date - he affirmed several times that there was absolutely no demand for an English Parliament. He is totally wrong with that statement. Surveys taken in the last 2 years amongst the English population in fact shows a rapidly rising demand for an English Parliament.

Why were there so many Scottish people on, discussing something that is none of their business? Why didn't you have someone on from 'The Campaign for an English Parliament' or Robin Tilbrook, leader of the English Democrats? Or Roger Scruton, well known champion of an English Parliament? Who knows - maybe they weren't Scottish enough?

It just seems so arrogant that the BBC (motto: Nation speaks unto Nation...) should be discussing a nation's destiny WITHOUT any of the representatives of the other side of the argument being invited. Campbell Bannerman is UKIP - so is obsessed with the union, Linklater was as anxious as ever to give a Scottish slant to it - and Hazell - he's merely a mouthpiece of NuLabour.

I always thought that having a debate meant having opinions from ALL SIDES OF THE ARGUMENT, not stuffed with McHomers and yes men....

A SUGGESTION - to redress the balance, why not have a section in this week's programme giving THE OTHER SIDE? Honestly, the sooner the BBC stop being such an emasculated poodle to NuLabour, the better, whatever happened to democratic discussion?’


Reply from Mr Fudge, Waffle Office, Jobsworth Division, BBC –
’I understand you were disappointed with a discussion about an English Parliament on 'Talking Politics' on Radio 4 on 15 April. I note you were unhappy with the number of Scottish people involved in this discussion.

Let me assure you that the BBC remains committed to its policy of impartiality across its entire output and all reporters and presenters are well aware of this. However, I am sure you can appreciate it is not always possible or practical to reflect all the different opinions on a subject within individual programmes. Editors are charged to ensure that, over a reasonable period, they reflect the range of significant views, opinions and trends in their subject area.

I can assure you that the BBC does not seek to denigrate or to promote any view. It seeks rather to identify all significant views, and to test them rigorously and fairly on behalf of the audience. Among other evidence,audience research indicates widespread confidence in the impartiality of the BBC's reporting.

Nevertheless, I appreciate that you feel strongly about this issue. Therefore, I would like to assure you that your e-mail has been registered and has contributed to our daily log which will be made available to the 'Talking Politics' production team and BBC senior management. Comments such as yours can help us in the future’.

Reshuffling (the deck chairs on the Titanic)

Just how happy will Condy Rice be at not meeting the Man of Straw any more over a Lancashire Hot Pot in Blackburn, Lancashire? More to the point, how thrilled will she be when she has to metaphorically share her Airforce 2 bed with new Foreign Secretary and Arthur Scargill's twin sister, Margaret Beckett?.... Jealously is a terrible thing - and as soon as it was known that Jack had a thing going with Condy - and hence just might be more popular with the Bush administration than the Blairy man, his fate was sealed. Who can forget Mo Mowlem's standing ovation at the Labour Party Conference? Blair smiled through gritted teeth as she received a standing ovation. He then calmly gave her the push....... nice.

John Prescott's, lost his marriage, his bit of skirt, his ample supply of OPDM monogrammed underpants, the Governmental truss to keep the heaving Prescott gut in check, the grace & favour supply of Viagra, his marbles - and now he's lost his Minstry Portfolio. Today is a very good day. It could have been much, muchbetter though, unfortunately for us, he's still Deputy PM - so it doesn't mean he's lost Dorneywood, or the fleet of limos, or the Admiralty Arch flat, or the generous pork pie allowance.... and he's still allowed to commit GBH on the English language...

On Wednesday afternoon, Blair declared to the House that 'Chunky Charlie' Clarke was absolutely vital to continue the good work being done at the Home Office. Today he's gone, but not before throwing his toys out of the pram. There you go Charlie, 36 hours is a long time in politics - Indispensible on Wednesday afternoon, kneed in the groin on Friday..... . Chunky Charlie' has now become 'Chippy Charlie' - you'd better watch your back Tone.

His replacement, old Scottish attack dog and closet collector of 'trinkets made from Cannabis resin' John 'Glasgow Kiss' Reid is back bossing the English population as only he can. I smell a Blighty backlash for the new Home Secretary......

'Buff' 'Holiday' Hoon has landed on his feet becoming 'Minister for Europe' - or is he? No one, least of all Buff really knows, but never mind...... Geoff will no doubt be exploring just how he can expand his annual holiday portfolio. Even now he is ringing his calendar - making sure, as a good European that he celebrates every known Saint's day from every single EU country..... Starting on Monday with Poland's little known St Prescottonia, the patron Saint of crap government ministers...... If anyone wants him, Geoff will be found sunning himself at the seaside.

Ruth 'growler' Kelly has gone from Education, replaced by former Trades Union uber-gob, Alan Johnson. Ruth may now have the time to devote to her first love of being a Paul Robeson impersonator........ That old man river, that old man river, he don't say nuthin', he just keeps rollin' along......

'X' marks the spot.......

Tomorrow, I shall be exercising my hard won democratic right to vote in the English local elections. The problem is, who to vote for? Which local busy body is deserving of my precious endorsement?

I've scanned the lists and it looks like wall to wall mediocrity. Grey yes people, prepared to defend the indefensible at all costs. The trouble is, when I look at the candidates, I don't see people espousing local issues, I see duplicitous national politics, I see arrogant gravy trainers, I see Blair and his biblical fundamentalist zeal, I see fat twins Clarke and Prescott sweating for different reasons. I see 'Call me Dave' Cameron reinventing himself from 'Nasty Manifesto Writing Dave' to cuddly, fluffy, 'Call me Green Dave 'cos I've got a pair of green wellies in the boot of my Range Rover Vogue'....

I couldn't vote LibDems, I just couldn't - I don't like Hush Puppies and I don't wear any tank top jumpers........
So it looks like Mr Noneoftheabove' will be given a chance to restore my faith in British politics then.....

Sometimes, the English language just isn’t expansive enough…

Over the holiday weekend I’ve been trying to have a go at a bit of Prescott bashing. It really is a superb subject to wax lyrical about – and the main man himself is a solid gold prattinski if ever I saw one. So constructing a post about a vain, stupid, power mad nutter and his wandering willy should have been a five minute cinch…… Or so I thought. I mean, how hard can it be to describe the sexual athlete that is John ‘groper’ Prescott?....

Well quite hard actually. Every day brought more seediness, more depths of depravity – even the Bishop of Bath and Wells and his red hot poker would have been disgusted…..

Oral sex in the ODPM’s office, gropes in lifts, upskirt thrills, touchy feely Johnny doing what comes naturally to him. With pneumatic regularity, Prescott’s white flabby Gluttonous Maximus has left its pimply sweaty imprint on various bits of departmental office furniture. Thwack, thwack, thwacking on the walnut veneer and intricate leather chase work, french polished surfaces sprayed with various bodily fluids, steamy windows with letters drawn upon ‘J loves himself’ – true. Half mast pinstripe trousers, languishing around swollen sweating ankles and straining sinews that have not seen such stress since Prezza called the school bully a right big nancy boy. Great glottal Hullish expletives resound from the plasterwork as the white elephant wobbles to climax in his Whitehall office…

Nah, that’s rubbish, it reads like something Barbara Cartland on a bad day might have written….

Perhaps only Prezza himself can do justice to his predicament. Yesterday, he was reported to be in a depressed state of mind. He’s worried that all the negative publicity over this past week has made him into a national laughing stock……

Mea Culpa? Hmmmm, Is that an Aussie pop star?.

Another day, another nest of bumbling NuLabour Ministers trying to squirm their way out of the blame game for yet another ‘trifling oversight’. Just what does it take for a Minister from this shambolic administration to do a Carrington & Luce and fall on their swords?

For those too young to remember, Lord Carrington and Richard Luce, both from the Foreign Office were the last Government Ministers to admit a cock up, admit they’d made a mistake and insisted upon resignation. That’s right, bloody amazing isn’t it, Ministers actually owning up to a mistake then actually taking responsibility by resigning. Mind you that was 24 years ago in 1982 for God’s sake.

They weren’t hounded out by the media, they weren’t sacrificed by Margaret Thatcher, they just ‘went’…. As Lord Carrington said at the time, "I had to insist to Margaret (Thatcher) that she accept my resignation – I made a mistake, the Argentine Navy invaded the Falkland Islands. My department misread the signals and I as Foreign Secretary was head of that department - therefore it was my responsibility. I must do the honourable thing and insist on my resignation being accepted" Luce said much the same thing.

Since then, our Ministers have been just superb, apparently. And when they do make a small mistake, a simple declaration of responsibility will suffice – without the resignation obviously. Yesterday, we saw sweaty, Philsbury doughboy, Charles Clarke, stonewalling away for all he was worth on ‘freedlagsnotdeportedgate’. No, he didn’t think he should resign – and yes, he thought he should stay and ‘sort out the mess’….

His apprentice, the obnoxious Tony McNulty threw humility to the wind and declared he would not entertain resignation. Nutter McNulty got a bit tetchy when the interviewer asked him what he thought might actually warrant a resignation…..

Both Clarke and McNulty evidently reckon that having alien murderers, child molesters, rapists and drug traffickers strolling around the country is a real vote winner. Me? I’ll just put this little fiasco into my bumper big box of calamitous and incompetent acts committed by NuLabour Ministers. And when I say ‘bumper big’ I mean, ‘bumper big’…..

p.s. – Note to Doughboy and Tetchy McNutter….. taking ‘responsibility’ means not blaming underlings within the department and not looking for convenient scapegoats. On this occasion, ‘taking responsibility’ means doing the right thing, in the words of Lord Carrington, ‘the honourable thing’ and insist on resignation…. The trouble is, I don’t think you two guys, and the rest of the Cabinet knows what ‘honour’ means….

Ding dong, NuLabour calling…..

Isn’t it always the way. You’re just tucking into the TV dinner, something interesting is on the telly……. Then the door-bell goes. The dog went mental barking his head off. He’s obviously a very good judge of character as I just made out Mr Creep through the glass as I walk towards the front door.

"Hello, can I leave this leaflet with you? It explains just what the Labour Party are doing for you in this area and….…"

"Whoa there matey. Who are you representing?"

"The local candidate for the Labour Party"

"No, who’s your head honcho – Tony Blair?"

"Well, yes"

"OK, firstly, you can take this leaflet, fold it up into a big pointy painful shape and post it where the Sun don’t shine. Then you can tell me why I had to pay for 2 prescriptions I’ve just picked up from the Chemist, when not 20 miles down the road in Wales they’re already under a fiver – and from next year they’ll be free, gratis and for nothing for every single one of them!!!!"

"Errrr, OK, so you’re not a fan of Tony then?"

"Not a fan? Not a ‘kin fan? The man’s a war criminal, a fraud, a serial liar, a control freak, a fantasist and a rubbish excuse for a man. The man wouldn't look out of place wearing a full length Gestapo leather coat and whistling Lily Marlene as he plans another invasion into another country as designated by Dubbya Bush. Blair is a bloody disgrace - he should be put down along with his Scottish mate in number 11"….

Sensing my vote may not be going to the local NuLabour candidate, Mr Creep started to back away down the path.

I trawled him back - a rabbit in my headlights, and anyway, my 15 year old son was walking up the path behind him… Manna from heaven. I grabbed him as he tried to squeeze past me.

"And what about this kid? He wants to go to Uni’ – but how the hell can he afford it – do you think it’s right that an English teenager should be lumbering himself with thousands of pounds worth of debt? But not to worry, not to sodding well worry because just a hundred miles up the M6, in Tony ‘kin Blair’s home country, it’s all ‘kin paid for, for their kids, no debt for them, courtesy of me and people like me down here paying for it all"…..

It was at that moment, I realised I had more than just a tight grip on my Son’s arm. It was going purple.

It was at that moment, I realised I had advanced down the path and was shouting and swearing and glottaling about an inch from this annoying little NuLabour man’s face.

It was at that moment, I realised why I had got the two prescriptions earlier that day. A wicked infection in my lungs leaving me with a ton of phlegm havering up and down inside me every time I breathed.

But not any more. The wheezing had gone, the phlegm had all but been expectorated to atmosphere….. and all over Mr Creep’s dripping features…

As he sloped away with his damp leaflets for Mrs Dull, my NuLabour poodle candidate in his hand, I helpfully reminded him that the impending virulent infection I had just passed onto him was going to cost him the neck end of 13 quid to get shut of….

So there you have it. Next time you feel a bit wheezy, just go and find yourself a NuLabour foot soldier to have a go at. It works better than antibiotics – and it saves on Kleenex and the prescription fee as well…. Unless you live in Wales and Scotland though, obviously……

Looks like a job for Blairman and Gordin, the Boy Wonder....

Holy disaster!
Peugeot announced today that their English car plant at Ryton is to close in the ever so near future.

So what happens when an English car factory hits the buffers? Let’s look at the archives. Let’s look at what happened in April, last year when Longbridge, the Rover flagship suddenly found they had no money, no future – oh, and they owed the Taxman over 100 million quid.

Fear not, the dynamic duo, Blair and Brown were through those factory gates (using the Queen’s flight, obviously) faster than you could say ‘photo-opportunity’

Holy cow!
Cue jackets off and rolled up shirtsleeves, cue spray-on sweaty armpits, half drunk cups of coffee, half eaten BLTs and bottles of water. Tone and Gord are here and boy, do they mean business....

Splattt!
Gordon, the boy wonder, immediately writes off the hundred mill’ tax debt.

Kapow!
Tony sweats profusely as he feels the angst, he lives the agony that the Longbridge workers are going through.

Sorted!
Blairman, the caped crusader reaches into his Utility Belt and hands over a few more mill’ of Cherie's housekeeping in support and pledges super-hero brotherhood with the workforce forever, or until just after May 5th, whichever came first.

Epilogue!
Well, the 5th May came first, which just happened to be General Election day – Labour and the control freakery trolls won for a third term…. and Longbridge? Flogged off for a song, dismantled and re-erected near Shangai in China.

Border patrol.....

Hmmm, someone's blabbed....

Whispers, whispers, whispers.....

Is there any truth in the rumour that ’Boots the Chemists’ are to open up a new service on the high street? Apparently, they're responding to the demand from cancer suffering English women trying to get the wonder drug ‘Herceptin’ from a skint English NHS. The new service is to be rolled out as 'Boots the Lawyers’……

Union Flag – 400 years old today….

Happy birthday to younion flag, happy birthday to……
Sorry, but I don’t care. What we once had – a ‘Union’ we have now lost, courtesy of the Blairy-man. I no longer respect it – how can I when the values and aims of the Union have been so undermined and compromised by this awful Labour agenda……

A prediction – I doubt we will be celebrating its 425th birthday.

The Blairy man can......

His omnipotence, the St Tone of Sedgefield is, at this very moment having a pow-wow with Head Health Honchos at Number 10. The first miracle of the day will be performed over power croissants and holy water by St Tone - "Yea verily, let the NHS in England spend as much per head as it does in Wales and Scotland"…

Sorry, major plot loss there. It’s a miracle we want, not a flight of fantasy. No, the way to solve the English NHS problems are easy…… You gotta problemo? Can’t cope with the shelling outta 75 billion quid? Then call in the professional, St Tone to the rescue. He’ll give that old ‘trust me, I’m an ordinary sort of miracle worker’ smile. A wave of the hand, a dip into the bumper book of bullshit for a suitable quote – a promise of a Peerage or two and it’s ‘job done’…

Well, it has to be solved by 11 this morning doesn’t it? He’s got a busy diary ahead…… This afternoon he’s solving African debt. Over an early evening coffee he’s making Iraq a contented democracy and tonight he’s going to find the Holy Grail and re-examine whether there was actually another gunman on the grassy knoll…….

Tony Blair - 100% pure bullshit.

Health apartheid in the the UK

Email sent to Patricia Hewitt, Secretary of State for Health and to Rosie Cooper, my useless MP - 5/4/06.

Ms Hewitt, I see the whole Scottish population now qualify for free eye tests. Hooray for them then! When do you think this free goody will be available in England to me, my wife - and also to you?

And while we are on the subject of Health apartheid within the UK, when do you think the entire population of England will qualify for free prescriptions - as the entire population of Wales are due to get next year?

And while we are on the subject of English lives apparently mattering less than others in the UK, when do you think English women suffering from breast cancer will be prescribed Herceptin, as of right (as already happens in Wales and Scotland) - or will they continue to have to find a Lawyer first rather than a Chemist?

Could you give me YOUR answers on these 3 important questions, rather than a bland reply from the Dept of Health waffle division. And please, can you reply via email - it saves on postage, is kind to the the environment and is 'expenses neutral' to the taxpayer.

Needless to say, my local MP has already sent me an email saying she has forwarded my enquiry to the Department of Health, waffle division. Hewitt has yet to reply.

MPs – what are they for?

What’s your MP like? Do they work hard and smart for the benefit of the constituency and of you, their constituent? Do they take their respective Leaders to task when they attempt to introduce bizarre and fraudulent legislation? Do they vote against that flawed legislation if, in their view it was likely to be contrary to their constituents’ best interests?

Do they fight hospital closures, champion the oppressed and say what they actually believe? When you write to them, do they vow to get to the bottom of the issue, right the wrong, no matter what?

Nah, thought not.

Prescott sticks boot into Kent…

Another day, another illustration of John Prescott’s single-handed attempt to wipe the English countryside off the map. This time it’s the village of Wye and an area of outstanding natural beauty on the Kent Downs. A Science Park and 4,000 houses are earmarked for the site. The village of Wye is inside the Kent Downs area of outstanding natural beauty - an area supposed to have the same protection as a national park - and is surrounded by Grade 1 agricultural land.

Environmentalists fear that if this area of English countryside gets bricked over – then God help the rest of it. Will someone please do me a favour and give Prescott the biggest pack of Lego they can find – he’ll do less damage that way.

Welcome to England, the world’s biggest Barrett Housing Estate….

Where Tesco fail, Lamby and Beefy succeed…

Hats off to the people marketing real English Lamb and real English Beef on the telly and in cyberspace. Having watched the animated TV ads starring Ian Botham and Alan Lamb characters drawn from their England playing prime, I noticed the label sticking out of the meat had an English flag on it.

Balimey! I decided to have a look at the web site Strewth! Strike me down with a rolled up copy of the NuTesco ‘no England’ manifesto – a product not only identifying with England, but positively revelling in it.

For instance, if you go to the info about the label, it says this -
"The Quality Standard Mark also tells you where your beef and lamb is from. For example meat from an animal born, raised and slaughtered in England will carry the Quality Standard beef or Quality Standard lamb Mark indicating English origin with the St George's flag. If an animal cannot meet all the criteria, for example it is born in Scotland or Wales, it will be able to carry the Quality Standard Mark but indicate British origin with the Union flag.

Go to the distributor page – and there is a map of England with all the English counties in position….. and that’s it. No ‘Regions’, anywhere.

Not only that, they are running a ‘St George’s Day, nominate your local hero’ campaign. Click here to listen to Beefy talking about it…..

See how very easy it is Tesco? A company using an English identity in a positive and proactive way – and getting a booming sales drive to boot…. Maybe you too should adopt the same pro English strategy?…..

John Prescott – a right div.

While ‘freebie Tone’ is away on an Antipodian jolly, PMQs was today taken by fat cretin John Prescott.. Up against him was the Master of quick wit and ready repartee, William Hague.

The performance of the baggy one was gob smackingly inept. Prescott said lots of words – very few in the right order. Hague absolutely mashed him, making him look a bigger whally than he already is. Prescott forgot lots, couldn’t find his notes on ‘spontaneous jokes’ and couldn’t find pre-prepared answers to friendly ‘closed’ questions from back bench Labour MPs. At times, he did a more than fair impression of a tourettedly-dyslexic Eddie Wareing commentating on a Rrrrrugbee League clash between ‘Rorverrrrrrs ‘Ull Kingston versus Trinity ‘kin Wakewigan’.

There was lots of twiddling of order papers as Prescott continued to commit GBH on the English language. Every now and then he would shout out an insult here and a blurt out there. He even accused Hague of being ‘anti-English’. He just threw it in, I’ll have to check Hansard to find out what the hell he was talking about......

The trouble is, will they report what he said as 'Prescott-speak' or will they do a translation job on it?

Bargain of the month….

Four English pounds and ninety-nine English pence was all it took to buy a St George’s flag from my local ‘Range Superstore’.

The quality is excellent – but the best bit is the size of it, it’s absolutely huge. Three full English yards long by two generous English yards deep. No miserly, Napoleon-inspired metric skulduggery here – just honest English imperial as the measurement of choice for this product. I unfurled the flag when I got home – and I swear it stretches across two counties and a time zone. Fortunately, I have the heavy-duty flagpole necessary with which to get it up to it’s full morning glory…..

It will be a suitable focal point in our garden on the 23rd April – and of course when Becksy, Stevie, Frankie, Rio-ee, Waynee, Ashley-ee and Company-ee lift the World Cup after stuffing Brazil 5-0 in the final-ee…

I wonder if they sell them in Tesco? .......
Nah, probably not.

Democracy inaction?

Last night, whilst waiting for my turn to get into the bathroom, I decided to have a quick butchers at the BBC Parliament television station. What luck – I’ve tuned in just in time…. A full Q&A was going on, apparently it was something rather grandly monikered – ‘The Commons Commission Questiontime’.

Well, that’s what they call it, I favour ‘banal, irrelevant and a total waste of time and money’. The House was, as usual (apart from PMQs), about 90% empty. Amongst such trivia discussed, cogitated and cud-chewed was –

1) "Whether the brass knobs within the lifts in the special gallery west, in the Palace of Westminster had ever been polished?"

2) "Did everyone realise that the 4 new disabled car park spaces in the Palace grounds will, by definition need to be larger than the standard car parking spaces – and had this been taken into consideration?"

3) "Had the newly built covered walkway at Westminster (costing the neck-end of 450 grand) now solved the problem of the previously greasy and slippery, but now dry pavement underneath?"…..

Yawn…….

This democracy malarkey is not as simple as I first thought…. I mean, there’s obviously a lot more to legislating than shouting "Yaboo" at the top of your voice on a Wednesday PMQ session….

Fer instance…. "Mister Deputy Speaker, sandwich fillings for the Parliamentary bar, tuna, BLT or eggy-cress?"
"Order, order….. What about cheddar cheese and onion?"

"Does the Right Hon’ gentleman realise it is our turn to have possession of the Commons common-room Remote Control – and perhaps the Remote Control Committee under the Chairmanship of Lord Bragg could investigate the feasibility of replacing the ‘double A’ batteries?"

"Can the last person using the toilet in the Lobby please let the Toilet Roll Commissioner and the Stool Sergeant know that the ‘soft and fluffy’ is getting dangerously low?"

Parliament simply has to change…. Otherwise how the hell can people take it seriously?

Mad dog, you’re a bit of a thick puppy, aren’t you?

"Sit …. And stay. Good boy…. Now stop it, stop it…. Stop doing things with that cushion, you naughty, disgusting little highland baldy mad-dog terrier"…… Sorry, doing a bit of daydreaming there. Back to the everyday grind of Scottish Raj reality.

I’ve just got a letter from ’Mad Dog’ John Reid, MP. Now, I know what you’re thinking ‘shock horror’, John Reid can write?’ Well he can, just! (Although some of the apostrophe punctuation and spelling is a bit iffy)

Good old Mr Reid, faithful four legged friend to Blair the pack leader, the man who put ‘hench’ into henchman and ‘lying interfering bastard’ into ‘NuLabour Westminster Politician’. ‘Mad dog’, the proponent of the "Hey are you looking at me Jimmy" brand of politics and an expert in the execution of the ‘Glasgow Kiss’ has sent me a letter. Oh yes, the original Gorbals growler has delivered his much researched in-depth justification for voting on English only matters via the Royal Mail (so that’s another 25 quid into the exees account then)…..
I have cut and pasted the salient bits of the letter below – his waffle and my translation of it. I don’t know about you but I reckon the mad dog is becoming a delusional ostrich. Pressure, pressure, pressure….

Reid-speak…
"MPs are elected from their constituents to represent them and their interests in Parliament and to assist with their problems locally"…….

Errr, Johnny, baby….. English health matters, English education matters and English transport matters don’t matter to your constituents because they ain’t local to Airdrie and Shotts, mate.


Reid-speak….
"If the only function of an MP was to represent his/her constituents on issues that only directly effect them, then MP’s from Birmingham should not be allowed to vote on legislation that only effects the coastline, or MP’s from London should not vote on legislation that only effects constituencies with coalmines etc. This would be unfair and unworkable".

Utter rubbish – and a totally infantile argument. It’s obvious some ‘blue skies thinker’ from Millbank has come up with this ‘coalmines and coastline’ strategy. I’ve heard it from various Labour stooges and yesmen over the past few weeks. There is no doubt about it, it’s a last desperate throw of John Prescott’s furry dice in an attempt to stem the rise of Blighty-Nationalism. I also notice he hasn’t said anything about himself being unable to pass health and education legislation on his own constituents….. a system he obviously considers to be ‘workable’….

Reid-speak…..
"It is also true that my constituents pay taxes to the UK Treasury to be distributed by them in accordance to the wishes and priorities of the UK Parliament. I therefore have the right to represent my constituents in examining how and where that money is spent. It may be that, currently, the money that Parliament gives my constituency by way of settlement to the Scottish Parliament and direct non-devolved services is greater than the money the UK Treasury receives by way of revenue from my constituency but that is a matter of parliamentary discretion".

Eh up, Reidy admits his constituents are onto a good thing, so why change it, why rock the constitutional boat?

Mad dog, you know what? I don’t think you’re bloody mad any more – I just think you’re running scared. Grrrrrrrr…….

Shock - Charles Clarke gets sums wrong on Plod botch!! (and he was only warned about it in 2004)

Think of a number, triple it, then double it. Add another few million, multiply it by a hundred, then work out how many people live in Calcutta and add them to the total.... What do you get - big numbers right? Or to put it another way, the approximate cost of regionalising the police forces in England...

Charles Clarke, the face of a slapped arse of a Home Secretary has been told to go away and think again on his plan to introduce 'Balkan-Plod' police forces in England. Apparently, he's got the sums a bit wrong, a leaked Home Office report warned him in 2004 that the £800 million allocated was like, not enough by a zillion miles. Chaz, try adding a nought or two...... or better still, leave things as they are!!

Full story here

A cautionary tale ... the ferreter's story.

Strange how stuff ‘comes around’ and ‘goes around’, innit? You'll no doubt be aware that members of the second oldest profession – 'corrupt politicians' are in the news again….. T’was ever thus.

For instance, hands up all those who have ever heard of Victor Grayson? He’s a name lost in history – but 80 years ago, he was on every newspaper’s front page. Grayson was a crusading socialist politician in Britain just after the First World War.

A former MP, he made it his business to seek out injustice and corruption at the very highest levels of the British establishment. His most fervent crusade was against David Lloyd George – who he accused of selling honours and Peerages for cash to anyone who could stump up the necessary readies…..

He was spied on by the newly formed MI6 - they thought he was a Bolshevik agitator – Legendary ‘ace of spies’, Sidney Reilly took an extra special interest in the man constantly blowing whistles. Grayson suspected he was being followed and did a bit of digging. He discovered the guy on his tail was non other than Arthur Maundy Gregory – who as well as being a spy, also did the fixing for Lloyd George’s honours selling scams….

Unfortunately for Victor, he got too close to the truth. In late September, 1920, whilst in a bar in Leicester Square, he received a phone call. Excusing himself, he left, saying he was meeting a man at a nearby hotel.

That was the last time he was ever seen alive. Gregory was reckoned to have done him in for blabbing about the cash for honours scam. His body was never found……

Well that was then - but what about now? What about today’s establishment and the current honours for loans scandal….. Hmmmm, I hope New Labour Treasurer, Jack Dromey and Standards Committee boss, Sir Alistair Graham don’t go meeting any strange men in hotel rooms….

Strange badfellows….

So why do you think FA Chief Executive and Martin O’Neill lover, Brian Barwick was at Twickenham yesterday watching the England v Ireland Rugby Union match? Stranger still, footy man Brian was laughing and chatting with the chap in the next seat - non other than the ‘champ of all things British’ and Raith Rovers stalwart supporter, Gordon Brit-Brown…..

Now, what do you think those two were plotting then?

The Blair Junta….

Can it get any worse? How much limbo-lower can the Labour Party go? The ‘GreedypiggiesinthetroughGate’ loans scandal is just another example of NuLabour’s day-on-day ability to out-corrupt itself.

Tony Blair, El Presidente, a number of questions need to be answered here don’t you think? For instance, How the hell is your Party ever going to pay back 14 million pounds worth of loans? Presumably, there will be interest to pay as well and a repayment schedule arranged? Also, if your very own Treasurer knew bugger all about the loans, then presumably they did not go through the Party’s main bank account… so which bank account has got the 14 million pounds - and who the hell signs the cheques if it ain't the Treasurer?

One thing is for sure, Blair’s Party, Blair’s Government, Blair’s Country are three sick puppies. Blair is little better than a bling-bemedalled General leading a corrupt and morally bankrupt South American Country from one disaster to another. He and his pathetic cadre of tin-pot toy corporals have brought ruination to this once confident country. Power is the drug, Money is the corrupter, Celebrity is the fix, Moral bankruptcy is the dividend.

Tony, if you want to raise money for the Party, sell Keir Hardy’s cap, Clem Atlee’s moustache, or even one of your many, many faces on ebay….

One thing’s for sure, the people of Britaguay have had enough.
We really, really have.

I’ve run out of fingers…. (almost)

Yes, just been conducting a bit of an experiment. Highly technical, highly scientific, highly mathematical…..

I’ve been watching the BBC telly news on BBC 24 – and the reporting of the vote on the Education Bill, live from Westminster. The very learned Beeb reporters, the cream of ‘hacks incorporated’ have been collectively slobbering at the mouth – it’s all so exciting as they froth on about ‘the PM’s ‘education legacy’. Each and every one of them has said how "Blair sees it as his destiny to empower Britain’s education system with this bill"…..

Oh dear, that’s not right at all is it?

Every time they said the word ‘Britain’ instead of the Country, ‘England’ merited another fold-down on my ‘digitometer’…..

(I’m getting a bit worried, I’ve only got a couple of thumbs left, so it looks like I’ll have to take the socks off – and that means the wife is going to start retching, then)…..

STOP PRESS - No need to panic everyone, the 9 'Democratic' Unionist MPs from Northern Ireland have come to Blair's rescue and decided to vote with the Government.... Phew, thank goodness for that, democracy is safe for another day......

Russell Brown MP – a suitable case for treatment…

(But being a Scottish MP, he’ll get all the expensive 'in denial' drugs necessary, free from the Scottish Health Service, of course)….

Whenever I get a bit bored, I like to bang off the odd email to my old friends north of the border. Saturday was a case in point, nothing much on telly, just a 4 pack, laptop and an attitude, still seething from 'FalconerGate'….

I have my favourites of course, the mad, bad and the dangerous to know, they’re all there at the other end of a mouse click. Some you get a reply from and some you don’t…. But there is always one that rises - always one that stands out from the crowd. Always one that hits the big bottle of umbrage and sends a broadside right back to me.

My favourite champ of Scottish indignation is my old pal, Russell Brown, MP for Dumfries and Galloway. Russell has a chip on his shoulder the size of a full bag of Barnett formula cash – so we’re talking ‘big’, we’re talking ‘crinkley’, we’re talking ‘braveheart attitude’….. .

I bunged off my email to him….

Dear Russell,
Can you please desist from voting on English only legislation at Westminster. It doesn’t concern you, or your constituents – so please do the honourable thing and go and have a fag in the bogs when the division bell sounds…..

Russell got back to me – on Sunday morning….. so he couldn’t have been that busy, could he?

Mr Wake,
I could have expected such an e-mail from someone from the south of the country, but I am a little surprised that somebody who lives in Lancashire perhaps does not recognise the significant geographical location of my constituency.

There are some people from the local area who attend secondary school in Carlisle and a considerable number of people use the hospital services at the Cumberland Royal Infirmary. Furthermore, many individuals, especially young people attend the further education college in the city of Carlisle.

In other words the provision of NHS and education facilities in England are equally as important to me, and the local people in my area, as are the services provided by the Scottish Executive.

You really do need to be careful about protecting the Union of our nation. If your argument was to be taken to any kind of logical conclusion, then I hope that you realise that you are also saying that London MPs cannot vote on transport issues relevant to the rest of England, because the Mayor has responsibility for transport issues in the city.

Russell Brown
Member of Parliament for Dumfries & Galloway Constituency

Now several points concern me about this reply. He mentions education, health and, because of my email, the threat to the Union – plus a little dig at those from south of Watford ….. Is he having a laugh or what?

Maybe I’ve been double trumped. Maybe he’s fed up with me emailing him under various guises – maybe he’s bunged in those ‘red rag to a bull’ words, knowing that I would ‘get a bit upset’…..

The bit that especially got me was the reference to ‘our nation’. Russell is now apparently a member of the New Labour and Unionist Party…… but not really, as can be seen from the section in his website headed ‘National News’ …… Click on it – 95% of it is Scottish politics stuff, first minister this, Scottish conference that….

Needless to say, I reposted, with an epost…..

Mr Brown,
I don’t need any lectures on Geography thank you – I had those via my grammar school education, courtesy of a rather psychotic, but brilliant geoggers teacher. I originally come from Liverpool – which is quite near Wales, and next year the Welsh will have free prescriptions for all (in Wales, obviously). Now I suffer from Arthritis and every one of my English prescriptions costs the neck end of 7 quid (ANOTHER 15 pence rise has just been announced – hoorah).

With all that ‘cross border traffic’ you referred to in your last email – you’d think it’s going to be a case of me just ‘nipping over’ the border to get my free prescription; because, we all live in one country don’t we? Errrrr, no actually, we do not!. The Welsh Assembly has taken punitive measures to stop what they call ‘Prescription Tourism’ from taking place – ie they are bringing in measures specifically to exclude English people from getting free prescriptions in Welsh chemist shops.

The same is happening in Scottish Universities and English students – punitive measures to stop them going north to take advantage of a non tuition fee environment. (We have tuition fees down here you know, courtesy of…… well, you know who, don’t you?)
Plus, free old people’s residential care, free central heating systems to old people, no matter how rich they are, free eye tests and those oh so expensive life saving cancer drugs like Herceptin (available in Wales and Scotland ON DEMAND – but you want them in England – then forget the Chemist, find a Lawyer!!!!!)

Your constituents can come over the border and still reap the benefits from a subsidised Scottish Executive – not so the other way round. For instance, I bet there are some of your constituents currently residing in OAP care homes in Carlisle. Who pays for their treatment? Of course, the Scottish Executive!!! But who pays for the English lady in the home in Carlisle? Ooooh heck, now let me see........ has she got any savings, a house maybe?........

Mr Brown, as I said before, I don’t need any lectures on geography, nor do I need them on ‘protecting the union’ – as far as I am concerned, the union is a busted flush, courtesy of Blair circa 1998. Apartheid is alive and well and operating within the UK. The English are second class citizens, and have the dubious pleasure of picking up the tab for all the extravagances mentioned previously. I speak as a man who has watched his Mother pay 3 grand for a central heating system – and in the next few years could go into care, so it looks like she’ll have to flog off her house to pay for it. My Son has a debt of damn near 20 grand, courtesy of fees etc (with no job at the end of it) – whilst his Welsh student friends received grants and had their fees paid for them, even though they were at an English college. My other 3 Sons will not be going to College – they cannot afford it.

Mr Brown, apartheid is alive and well and living in the UK - call yourself a democrat? You should hand your head in shame.

HtheW,
Disenfranchised Englishman.

I await his reply.....

Falconer fallout …..

Like most English Nationalists, I too was outraged by Lord Falconer’s ill-conceived ‘no English Parliament’ comments. I was incandescent – Friday morning was a total waste of time, work forgotten, my mind a mush of indignation and anger as I thought about what to write - to him, to the 'papers, on my blog.

No matter what I typed – somehow it just didn’t do it for me – and anyway, the rest of the English blogging fraternity was tapping away in outrage overload. So what should I do? How could I vent my spleen? I decided to ring Charlie up at his office at the Department of Constitutional Affairs.

I rang. Charlie wasn’t in – he was delivering his ‘No English Parliament’ speech. No one else in the ‘Devolution Unit’ was in either – they were all with Falconer, providing mob-handed support.

That just left this guy on the other end of the phone minding the constitutional shop. Well he got it with both barrels from me. Both barrels from my double barrelled Howitzer…… for about 15 minutes solid it was a one sided rant. The guy on the other end recognised my ‘passion’ and ‘anger’ and absolutely promised to get the head honcho of the Devolution Unit to ring back this morning.

Guess what? He did!

At 9:32am today, one James Copeland, the poshest man in the entire Universe rang me up. The honcho from the Devolution Unit, Falconer HQ had returned my call.

"I understand you were offended by Lord Falconer’s comments last Friday"….

This time, I was more measured, this time I was coolness personified, because Monday was different from Friday. ..... Thanks to Fatty Falconer, Hurricane English Backlash had been born and was currently hovering dangerously over Charlie’s hairy left earhole…..

I stated my case to posh James Copeland, but as the discussion carried on, his poshness fell away. He sounded sort of weary and beaten, maybe he knew that the ‘Devolution Unit’ in Charlie’s little empire was on borrowed time? Before I hung up, I thanked him for listening – and then asked him to pass my congratulations on to his rotund boss.

Copeland sounded a bit puzzled – "Why?" he asked.

"Well it’s obvious innit James. Your boss, Charlie Falconer has done more than anyone else to further the cause of an English Parliament since Simon de Montfort….Maybe we could give him a little statuette of an English Rose – and name him ‘true friend of England"…..

Mr Copeland couldn’t possibly comment.

To: info@new.labour.org.uk

Hello,

I am anxious to donate some money to the Labour Party. The need has never been so vital - and as our Leader once said, donations equals success at the ballot box!

I'm not entirely sure how much to donate - so I've really pushed the boat out and been saving very, very hard. For instance, I've organised a raffle and a Jumble Sale in order to swell the coffers. All this hard work has paid dividends - I've managed to amass the grand total of 20 English pounds. Kerrrching!

What I want to know is what could I get for my donation? What's in it for me then....You know what I'm talking about, don't you.... Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more................

I suppose a Peerage is out of the question, then?

Maybe you could put me on one of those 'QANGO' committees? Afterall, I can pick my nose, suck my pencil and scratch my arse along with the best of them! And a few hours work a year for a bag full of cash seems like a real deal to me!

Anyway, have a word with Tone will you and see what you can do.

ps - If I could have a Peerage, I've already thought of some great titles...
Preparation, preparation, preparation!!!!

Meanwhile, back in ‘black and white’ world….

The place: Somewhere in the north of England.
The time: Teatime on a Spring day in 1963.
Activity: Eating our tea & watching the BBC 6 o’clock news on the telly. 10 year old kid – just about to start asking awkward questions…

Me: "So what’s a ‘Profumo’, then?"

Mum: "He’s not a ‘what’ – he’s a man – and a very, very bad man at that ….. disgusting"

Me: "What about ‘Keristeen Keeler’ – is she bad as well?"

Mum: "Very, very bad"….

Me: "As bad as the very worse bad person from the planet ‘Bad’ – the baddest planet in the whole Galaxy of Evil?"…..

Mum: "Probably much worse….. Now eat your greens, all up"

Me: "So what’s a 'prostitute' then?"

Johnny Plod lets David Mills off the hook….

Email to Metropolitan Police HQ, traffic division 4/3.06.

Sir: I wonder if you could help me. On Friday, 3rd March, I watched the TV news story of Mr David Mills, husband of Culture Minister, Tessa Jowell and close friend of Mr Berlusconi, Prime Minister of Italy. The film showed Mr Mills coming out of his house, getting into his BMW and driving off. He subsequently hit a people carrier door about 20 yards down the road. I understand that he also drove over a cameraman's foot.

It was absolutely obvious Mr Mills could not see a thing - the reason being that the whole of his front windscreen was completely frosted up with ice. He didn't bother to scrape it off at all, preferring instead to garble something in Italian (something about a horse’s head?) to the waiting paparazzi. His bravura was astounding, he’d obviously forgotten his scraper and de-icer - and failed to complete his mirror signal manouvre, errr, manouvre.... This was quite evident from the close up film work - and especially obvious as he got in and drove off. It was like watching a blind man driving - and crashing a car. Tell me, would you let Stevie Wonder climb into a high powered German car and drive off – even if he was married to a Government Minister?

As Mr Mills quite clearly committed a serious motoring offence (driving a vehicle that it was wholly unfit to be driven) and as the law is supposed to apply to everyone, will you be interviewing him?

Reply from the Met’ to HtheW HQ, 9/3/06.

Thank you for your communication dated the 4 March, which has been forwarded to this Unit.

Whilst I appreciate your concern that this incident was broadcast, there are a number of reasons why the Met’ would not normally prosecute in this matter:-

I am sure that you will appreciate that with finite resources, the Met have to prioritise investigations and prosecutions, with those involving death or serious personal injury taking precedence.

We do not have full details of the incident; it was only viewed by a third party..... blah, blah, blah.....

Yours sincerely

Metropolitan Fudge Department.


Conclusion:
So there you go, next time you get a speeding ticket, just tell them you know the Italian Prime Minister…..
(failing that, just start going on about horses’ heads)…..

To Mr Ken Livinstone, Mayor of London, England.

Yes, honest, London is in England

Dear Mayor Ken,

I've just been on your website and couldn’t help noticing a ginger headed guy in a big floppy green and white comedy hat on the home page. I clicked on the link and was immediately transferred to ‘Paddy’sWorld’ – a whole new green experience. Judging by the stuff planned, next Sunday in London is going to be wall to wall O’Celebrating. It is of course the all singing, all dancing, all drinking-Guinness, St Patrick's Day celebration - when everyone in the whole world becomes an Irishman for the day. They're all doing it - I understand that Saddam Hussein has managed to trace his roots back to Malachie O’Hussein of the O’Hussein clan from County Clare. Even our esteemed leader, Tonio Blair has managed to find a link with a prominent Irish family. He reckons he’s related to Bono – and is, even now trying to arrange a meeting with his long lost Irish rellie at the U2 frontman’s private island in the Caribbean…. The first three weeks in July will apparently suit Tone, the wife and his kids the best. One thing’s for sure, when those two meet, the Strats’ are going to get a fearful fretting…. Ugly Rumour meets Enormous Ego.

Back to next Sunday..... The march is going to be big, really big - and it will take in Trafalgar Square, Leicester Square and Covent Garden......

As a proud Englishman, living in England (a country) - I'm anxious to know whether London, my capital city, the capital city of my country, which is England, will be having a similar, or perish the thought an even bigger celebration to mark St George's Day. In case you have forgotten, St George is England’s patron Saint – and his feast day is on the 23rd of April - and what joy of joys, this year it falls on a Sunday!!! I’ve had a butchers on your website, but there just doesn’t seem to be anything planned for St George.

Perhaps it’s an oversight, maybe you forgot? Tell me Ken, you’re not related to O’Amnesiacs of …….... sorry, it's gone.

Can you liase with your old mate, P.C. Sir Ian Blair (related to the Bobby O’Blair clan of County Donegal?) – and get him to clear the streets for a bit of a knees up on the 23rd. Yes, I know money’s tight in London at the moment – and yes I know you’ve already shelled out nearly 200 grand on the St Patrick’s Day extravaganza, but couldn’t you have a bit of a whip round down at County Hall?

A monkey, a plate of vol-au-vents and a bloke with a big floppy red and white comedy hat on your website should do the trick. Maybe a nice website message would be good - something along the lines of : "London will celebrate St George's Day with a free parade and festival on Sunday 23rd April. The event marks the enormous contribution English people have made to the capital, socially, economically and historically. All are invited to join in the fun - it's a great day out for all the family. So come along, let's party and celebrate St George, patron Saint of England! (that's a country by the way)"

I'm sure it’s bound to be a really great day, and everyone in the whole wide world will be trying their best to be an Englishman for a few hours….. Even you Ken? ...... Tell me Mr Livingstone, you’re not related to the NuLabour Livingstones of anywhere but England brigade are you?

Note: St George is in no way related to the O'Saint family of County Kildare..... but then again, neither is St Patrick.

Anger, Anger, Anger!!!!!!!!….

BBC’s Panorama tonight highlighted the appalling and illegal practice of forcing old and infirm people in England and Wales to sell their homes in order to finance their NHS care..... which they should have as of right.

What shocked me most was how ordinary these people were … a lifetime of work, a lifetime of trust – betrayed. The state/citizen concordat – you work and pay taxes all your working life, we’ll look after you when you’re ill - has been lost in a pen pushing fudge of fiscal skulduggery. These people all looked like bedrock Labour voters – and the sadder their condition, Alzheimer’s, cancer etc, the more aggressive the bullying from NHS-BMW man. Most lived in humble semidetached dwellings, some even lived in terraced housing. The amounts the houses sold for was just pitiful, 40, 50, 60 grand…..

As usual, the BBC failed to ask why it wasn’t so in Scotland. As usual, the BBC failed to ask why the old people in Scotland are looked after far more compassionately than they are in England and Wales – could it be something to do with money?.

And the really sad point about it – Wales via their very own Assembly will no doubt outlaw this appalling practice in the near future…. But who the hell is going to look out for English old people?

Another blogger joins the fray... or does he?

Mail on Sunday columnist, Peter Hitchens has a brand new blog (so he says in his Sunday column). So if you feel like interacting with Pete, the address is - http://www.hitchensblog.mailonsunday.co.uk

I haven't yet linked it as the blog doesn't appear to be up yet.....

Prescott's poodle to go online - and off message?

Local Government Minister, David Miliband is due to start his own blog sometime next month.

Rising star Dave, Prescott's very own poodle - and architect of the great Super City Councils in England 'big idea' is going to start waxing lyrical on a number of topical issues providing he gets approval from Cabinet colleagues....

Full story here

Dave - I just don't think you realise you are about to kick a hornet's nest thinking it's a football...

An everyday tale over the breakfast table…..

Dave: "Pass me the marmalade please".

Tessa: "But why do you want the marmalade? Can’t you make do with jam? What’s the hidden agenda… it just smells so ‘fishy’ to me"

Dave: "I hope not – I’d rather hoped for Seville oranges actually…. Look Tessa, you’ve got to start trusting me. The marmalade is for the toast…. Savvy?"

Tessa: "Of course. I’m sorry…. It’s just that…
You know I have to be ‘careful’….. Being that I’m an incredibly important and intelligent woman at the heart of a passionate and talented government and everything….. I mean, I don’t want ‘Gus’ coming down on me over failure to declare stuff"…

Dave: "Oh for God’s sake. I’m going to work"……
Oh, before I go, can you just put your moniker on this bit of paper please?"

Tessa: "Yes, of course, but what is it, I mean – you know, I have to be careful, you do understand don’t you darling?"

Dave: "Now, now Tess old girl, you know better than to ask me that, don’t you?"

Tessa: "Look Dave, I really must insist on knowing what the signature is for"….

Dave: OK, OK, old girl. You’re right, you’re just too clever for me. Remember that nice Italian gent I’ve been telling you about?"

Tessa: Who? You mean Mr Omerta from Cosa Nostra Villas, Camorra Avenue, Naples?

Dave: "That’s the chap. Well, apparently, Mr Omerta has started to collect autographs of great British political heavyweights… He wants to start right at the top"…

Tessa: … "so he’s come straight to me!!!"

Dave: S’actly!! I thought this official looking document might be suitable – you know, to add a bit of gravitas……

Tessa: Got a pen?

Well it just might have happened that way, good old Tessa signing for a re-mortgage of over 350 grand without asking or realising exactly why she was doing it……

Although,, it’s not as bizarre as tonight’s interview with arch perjurer, and poison pen letter writer, Margaret Hodge giving her "full and unequivocal support" and opining how ‘integrity’ veritably oozes out of every pore of Jowell’s intelligent brow….

You just couldn’t make it up…..

Asda wrapping themselves in the flag of St George?

Ron, my very good friend, fellow quiz team player and passionate English patriot has had a reply from Asda regarding their forthcoming St Patrick’s day bargain offers (see Monday's post) – and wondered if they would be repeating the gesture on St George’s Day.

The rather grandly monickered, 'Asda Events Team’ has written back to him. They’ve noticed an upsurge in support for our patron saint and have confirmed that Asda will be producing a range of St George’s Day goodies for our National day.

Their words were "We’ve noticed our customers are becoming passionate about St George's Day, they will be pleased to know that Asda will be providing similar facilities and events as St Patrick’s Day".

I say "Hallelujah to that"

Ron says perhaps more realistically, "let’s wait and see"

Blair – celeb junkie….

How low can this man sink? Tony Blair, our leader, the Prime Minister, our representative to the whole wide world is going on ‘Parky’ this weekend as a guest.

’Did-oudellydoo-do-doo, did-oudellydoo-do-doo,
Did-oudellydoo-do-doo, did-oudellydoo-do-doo,
Did-oudellydoo-do-doo, did-oudellydoo-do-doo,
Did-oudellydoo-do-doo, did-oudellydoo-do-doo,
do, do, deedo-do-do-dooooooooooooooooo!!!

"Good evening laydees and gentleman, let me introrrduce my first guest. Some saaay he’s an enigma, wrapped in t’holiday brorrchure, others just think he’s an utter berk. In Yorkshire, we just call this poof a posh, power-mad, money-grabbing, caber-tossing syckorrrrrrrrpath.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Torny Blair…… Come on, clap you bastards!!!

Doesn’t this man have any shame? The Parky interview is the latest in a long line of Blair-Rebrand-Inc scams - and the metamorphosis from despotic power hungry cretin to chummy celeb TV person. Past, "Hi, I’m Tone, just an ordinary kinda guy" performances include 2 appearances on Richard and Judy (including one doing the ‘You Say, We Pay’ game). He did a whole half-hour on ‘On The Ball’ BBC’s footy pundit show – and most shamefully, an interview with Little Ant and Dec, a couple of ten-year-olds asking him such tough questions as ‘Tony, what sweets do you like?’

And each time, he gives the same performance, the shrug of the shoulders, the boyish smile, the ‘trust me’ I’m just like the guy down the pub….

I reckon he’s seeding. Making contacts in celebworld for when he hangs up his big pointy stick and begins career number 3. Maybe radio beckons – DJ Tone-deaf?

"Yo there, rock fans, welcome to ‘Volume Number 10’, the rockingest, rollingest rock’n'roll rock-fest in the Yo-universe. And tonight, a special treat for all fans of rock – a whole hour of retro appreciation for a very special band from the ‘70’s. Let’s rock with the ‘Ugly Rumours’….."
But more likely, it’s going to be TV. I reckon Parky better watch his back, ‘Blairy’ is about to steal your job…..