…and if you’re one of them Bugger You
…and if you’re one of them Bugger You
If I was Paulo di Canio I’d be feeling pretty hard done by. Why should he be singled out? I should imagine he was a bit peeved he hadn’t been offered the Chelsea Captaincy or the Liverpool no.7 shirt, never mind be savaged by B-Brains of I-I-International R-R-Rescue. It was undoubtably the Premiership’s laissez-faire attitude towards racism and fascism that attracted Paulo to the English game in the first place. .
But, as the man himself says, politics is politics and football is football, and they should never be mixed. Quite right too. (unless, like me you watched Escape to Victory yesterday, when that bloke Pele (from Trinidad, no less) certainly showed Anton Diffring and the other Nazis how to stick the old pig’s bladder in the back of the onion bag. And, like his new employers, Newcastle Reserves point out, it’s “insulting” to accuse Di Canio of such extreme views. If there’s any evidence to suggest otherwise, They’d like to see it.
Oh. Thank you.
Anyway, thankfully there’s plenty more to see and do with which to take one’s mind off all this fascist tomfoolery and racist high-jinks. Some of us have work to do.
Personally I am sorely tempted to stop what I’m doing and pursue a new role. It’s not that being North West Kent’s leading T-shirt designer and vendor doesn’t pay all I need to see me ok til the end of my days (provided I snuff it by Thursday week, to coin a phrase), but I feel my talents (sic) are wasted here. I feel sure I’d be more useful at New Broadcasting House, the home of the BBC now that they have well and truly put all that silly child molesting and those naughty serial serious sexual assault charges behind them.
This week’s BBC Director General (fill in name here) must be so proud that he’s taken hold of the reins in the week that the Great British Sewing Bee reaches our screens: A show which pits sewer vrs stitcher in a tense battle to see who can make the prettiest frock or cushion cover. This ‘Darn-off against the clock’ tugs smartly at the coat tails (see what I did there ?) of the previous hit “The Great British Bake Off” in which old women an effeminate men cooked scones at each other. You could have cut the tension with a dessert spoon.
So I have spent the morning compiling some ideas which would
exploit and cash-in continue the success of the Sewing Bee with a contest to find our most productive pollenator: “The Great British Bee Bee“; best Robin Gibb impersonator: “The Great British Bee Gee Bee“; or most nervous performer “The Great British Hee Bee Gee Bees Bee“.
We need some more shows which capture the excitement and tension of the Bake Off. How about a head-to-head hand-bag forgery contest in “The Great British Knock-off“; an inter-county incontinence competition, “The Great British Piss Off“; or the hunt to find the best beer & wine shop : “The Great British Offie Off“.
Enough now. I’m off to take part in a pro-celebrity masturbating competition, entitled, “The Great British Toss Off”.
There’s a short series there, somewhere. Very short.
Sainsbury’s costing the earth ? Tesco bill soaring (serves you right for shopping there in the first place) Even Morrisons starting to get a bit toppy ? Don’t even mention Waitrose or M&S.
No worries: help is at hand: Get yourself a proper job and when you’re not claiming for the weekly shop for your lover’s second home, grab yourself a subsidised meal in this terrific little restaurant I’ve discovered in Westminster. You’ll find fiddling your expenses a lot easier job to do on a cheap, full stomach. And you can always write off breakfast as a business expense too !
Happy 172nd Birthday, Auguste Rodin. I think.
It’s sad to hear of the death of Jack Duckworth. Bill Tarmy, the actor who played Jack in the soap opera Coronation Street, was 71 when he was found dead at his holiday home in Tenerife. I haven’t watched the program since Eddie Yeats shared a bed with Stan Ogden. But I do remember the character of Jack – an oafish bore of a man, who had a love of odd turns of phrase and often an abstract use of the English language, who inexplicably thought he was a hit with the ladies, but who often found out he was nothing of the sort.
And for some strange reason, I always used to get him confused with the former Deputy leader of New Labour, John (now Baron, or is it Barren ?) Prescott. Apart from the obvious physical similarities, here too is a Nellie Pledge of a character who brought all the wit and charm of a Panzer Division to the corridors of Westminster, not to mention the odd malapropism or 8. There’s nothing wrong with being unable to speak (or indeed write!) in pure, plain English, but when you’re standing-in for the Prime Minister of GB and NI it helps to be able to construct a coherent ….erm….
So imagine my confusion when I learn on the same day that one of them has passed on, and the other is standing for election as Police and Crime Commissioner in his local constituency of Humberingside, as he may have put it. The man once known as “Two Jags” for his penchant for destroying the ozonery layer, will presumably be putting in for an extra set of bicyclation clips to join the Northern Constabularianry on the beat as old Punchy Prescott becomes crime fighter.
And just in case you don’t think his heart is really in it, and that this may just be a knee-jerk reaction after his triumphantful appearance at the Levesonian Inquisisation, guess who he roped in to back his campaign ? Yep, the old War Criminal himself (not to mention Jack’s, sorry John’s ex-boss and croquet partner) Anthony Charles Lynton Blair, formerly of this parish. Prescott could have slashed the UK there and then if he’d made an arrest and delivered the ex PM to the Hague, it’s only just across the water, after all. And as ,before he started distributing semen to and into friendly women, John used to be a Seaman could have steered the prison ship himself.