I joined a pub discussion about the gay footballers and their curious
antics as exposed by the News of the World. “That wouldn’t have happened in
Bobby Moore’s day”, nodded one bore. I’m not surprised. Can you remember the
size of mobile phones back then? ... Finally, as I inched to work through the
snow and ice this morning, I heard a NuLabour mad woman on Radio 4 demanding
that we should stop watering our gardens and flushing our toilets forthwith or
there’d be standpipes in every street by Easter. Ain’t life grand?... My
man Whittaker skulks through the stable yard in the early hours of Wednesday
morning clutching a black balaclava and an A-Z of the Tonbridge area. Later that
day he is seen buying drinks all round in the Dog and Blunkett with a brand new
£50 note. For some reason, this makes me feel a trifle uneasy.
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1 comment:
Yes, good idea flogging off the water companies to private french speculators so that their shareholders could pocket loads of those nice new £50 notes whilst we had to flush the khazi once a month. Which bloody genius thought of that one?
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