El governmento tells us about inflation figures of two or three per cent year after year, doesn't sound like much does it? Well when I was a lad chips were 6p or 8p a portion and then they went up to 8p and 12p, it's added up since then hasn't it?
And how do crime figures keep coming down? I remember when you could leave your bike outside all night and still get change from a penny. That's how we ended up at war again. Monkey brains couldn't make a nuke if you gave him a glass of cold water and a boat load of meccano.
Audley Harrison had more fight than that, but we chalked up another victory for demarcacy anyway. Iraq was supposed to be Tony's Falklands but he arsed it. Just like anyone would who's main experience of combat was limited to a candlelit dinner with Cherie. You can't blame the poor sap, but you can't exactly congratulate him either.
So, if Margaret T was the Iron Lady What will we call Tony Baloney? He used to be known as the Ryan Giggs of politics. Now, we could call him The Man Jimmy Carter always wanted to be, or the white Frank Bruno, the thinking man's Keith Chegwin, The Iron Lung, The Black Vegetable, the Carbon Footprint of Elvis, The Graham Taylor of team building and so on an so forth.
I could go on but I feel I'm delaying the second coming of Pontius Pilates. He likes to have the stage to himself, allegedly.
JJ
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The Ryan Giggs of politics?
A wing wizard with nine winner's medals?
I thinketh not.
More like the Gareth Southgate: he shoots, he fooks up. Now put a bag on his head...
That's what happens when you let a Wolves fan talk about football...
Crime figures are down because we no longer have faith enough to report them. In the old days you thought calling the police would equal justice. *pah*
Bloody maarvellous innit? I could write a sodding eulogy about aliens landing on bodmin moor and stealing microwave ovens to power their day-glo socks and you'd still turn it into a gripe about bleedin' Beetroot Face and his strawberry mous(s)e eleven.
Well ok, "eulogy" could be tad beyond my literary handicap. I'd have been happy if the King's Road mob got nothing this year, I blame you, both of you.
Anyway, DQ; "in the old days" as my old man recounted, he and his mates had to sit in the back of the bus and there were certain pubs and shops where they would not be served. Aka "the swinging sixties", England. Being chased down the street by gangs of teds was their equivalent of going to the gym after work. Personally, I don't recall a time when calling the police was a viable option until maybe, the mid ninety's, maybe.
Well the mid 90s would have to be what I was refering to. Check my age JJ - that would be the olden days for me :-)
well, you can paint my face red and call me a baboon's arse, I never thought of the 90's as the old days.
Now that you mention it DQ, yes I've become an old fart and I didn't notice. Does anyone know where to get those fur-lined boots with the zips? I've waited years for this moment, I can finally play my Dire Straits cd's again :)
You have Dire Straits CDs?
Shit. Was hoping to sell you mine.
Everyone's got Dire bloody Strait's CD's, ok I'll trade you my Michael Jackson back catalogue but only if they're in mint condition.
Worrying thing is JJ fur lined boot with zips are fashionable again. You know you are old when you see a fashion trend come round for the second time. Or in your case the ninth. Haha haha
you're not to old to go over my knee young lady.
Bloody kids! You'd better not be drunk blogging again
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