The World Cup

Call me a killjoy (You’re a killjoy, Dio!) but I’m sick and bloody tired of the World Cup! I turned on the TV this morning for my usual diet of false news and what did I get on every major channel? The World Cup. Apparently some fucking bunch of losers are kicking a ball around a field in Russia tonight. Who fucking cares? Certainly not me…

Although that’s not quite true, because of the endless stream of speculation from overpaid ex-footie cunts turned footie pundit cunts banging on and on and fucking on ad nauseum about the game. They really don’t seem to have got the message that we’re not all interested in football. Some of us actually find it tedious and boring. It is, after all, just surrogate tribal warfare. And doesn’t it show? Seen the war paint?

On the TV this morning was some reporter bloke standing outside a block of council flats somewhere in the Londonstan ghetto. Every single flat window and balcony was festooned with the flag of St George. If there wasn’t a footie competition going on then some right on snowflake twat would be banging on about racism and right wing fascist symbolism. After all, this is what the English flag represents. Unlike the Scottish, Ulster and Welsh flags which are simply patriotic.

So call me unpatriotic if you like (You’re unpatriotic, Dio!) but I sincerely hope that Columbia win tonight then, after the inevitable banging on and on about how we was robbed by bad refereeing decisions (it’s never about being outplayed is it?) we can dream about forgetting the rest of this crap. Except we won’t because then the over paid footie pundit cunts wouldn’t be able to justify their ego sized pay cheques and the TV companies would have to reschedule their programmes.

And in any case, we can always get on with the tedium of the annual grunting fest known as Wimbledon – after, of course, we’ve got over how we was robbed because Andie the plastic Englishman is not playing. Ever noticed how he’s Scottish when he loses and British when he wins? Either way he’s exceptionally boring.

Rather like the World Cup in fact…


93 Men in a Boat (70) – The Return of the Learned Professor

Just once in a while it is inevitable that one will come across people that you have cruised with before. Normally this is quite a pleasurable experience. Sometimes it is otherwise, but just every so often a nightmare will raise its ugly head.

Such is the case when we had the occasion to meet, once again, the Learned Professor of whom I have written previously (see number 63). Usually I would not revisit such a person in this series, but on this occasion I feel that I need to make an exception – because he’s got worse!

Not only has his enormous ego got bigger and his manners deteriorated, but he’s also learned to patronise and insult the other passengers, and has turned into the Front Seater. Every trip we went on, there he was elbowing his way to the front to get the best seat on the bus, the best view on the boat, the best table in the restaurant…

On his first evening out, he informed a fellow diner who had the temerity to disagree with him that he was “not prepared to enter into debate with someone so narrow minded” which was rather ironic as he is a Professor of History and his target had a degree in same.

Needless to say, he was not discouraged in the slightest. The other speaker was described as “a lightweight who did not belong here” and the guests collectively were apparently “intellectual pygmies“. Such arrogance seemed to know no bounds!

As the paragon of tact that you know me to be, I naturally held my tongue – until he elbowed his way to the front of the priority queue at the airport check-in to try and blag an upgrade. At this point I simply told him to piss off!

At this point the bloke in the queue behind me in the queue said to me “He’s a very important person, you know!” “Really?” I replied. “Yes,” said he, “but only in his own head!”

I gave him a cheery wave and a sweet smile as he walked through our cabin on the aircraft on his way back into steerage…


barton oddie lookalikes
Has anyone noticed the remarkable resemblance between disgraced doctor, Jane Barton, and comedian Bill Oddie?

Only one is a goodie and neither of them is funny.

Perhaps they are related? I think we should be told

Love Labour’s Loss

One might have been forgiven for thinking that last weekend’s great festival of ‘Music, art poetry, dreaming, fun, happiness’ was indeed ‘a great day out.’ After all, the great messiah of the working classes, Jezza himself, said as much – so it must be true!

But it’s not true is it? The fact is that Labour Live was a monumental flop. Not that you will have heard that on the TV news, a situation which would not be unexpected on the Biased Broadcasting Corporation, but what about Sly News, or Idiot TeleVision? No. Not a dicky bird. Nothing. But what did you expect? Did you hear them report earlier in the week that six members of the Labour front bench resigned en masse? No, of course you didn’t…

The press were marginally less biased about Jezfest, but not a lot. Even the more recognisable Labour rags were a bit scathing. Even the Grauniad declared “If walking around JezFest is anything to go by, the Tories have little to fear!”

It started badly for Labour when some idiot snowflake at HQ suggested that they could build on Comrade Corbyn’s ego trip at last year’s Glastonbury by holding their own mini version in the north London Labour heartland. It was a bad idea. First, they couldn’t find any committed socialist bands to pay for free. Socialist principals have their price, after all.

Then they couldn’t sell the tickets. £35 to hear a speech from the great Catweazel. Surely a bargain? Well, no. 30,000 on sale, only 2,000 mugs, so just to piss off the 2,000 they slashed the price to £10. And for just ten quid you get to talk to the great McClusky himself in the Unite marquee. Who could refuse that? Well, loads of people actually.

Not that this deterred the organisers. Unite bought 10,000 tickets at the full £35 and provided free transport to bus them in. Of course several of them were there already because they were bullied into working as stewards for free – pretty hypocritical for a party which condemns interns working for free!

But even that didn’t work. Even in a Momentum stronghold, they couldn’t attract people who wanted to listen to the likes of Eddie Izzard and Owen Jones telling them what they should be thinking. To be fair, I suppose that’s understandable. What would your traditional Labour core voter make of a transvestite alternative comedian with fake tits? Hard to say, but we could probably guess. But as one reporter revealed, when he got to the door determined that he wasn’t going to pay more than the discounted £10 for a ticket, he was told that ‘locals get in for free’. What a shame they forgot to tell the locals!

And then there was the moment the great man appeared – only to be met with a group of protesters proclaiming ‘Bollocks to Brexit’ seeking to ‘democratically overturn Brexit’. Well, they were ejected by a bunch of momentum heavies (denied by the organisers despite video evidence) because they were ‘blocking the view with their banner’. Democracy in action, presumably? Where did we see this sort of tactics before? Nazi Germany during the rise of Hitler perhaps?

No, at the end of the day you can spin this any way you like – and be assured they will – this was an ill conceived vanity project and a comprehensive failure. Even some of the photographs on Facebook bore a remarkable similarity to Glastonbury 2016. Presumably that was just a mistake rather than a deliberate lie? Of course it was.

So how do we sum up Labour Live 2018? Let’s be honest – if a major political party can’t even make a profit on a fundraiser, how the hell can you expect them to handle the economy?

“Labour – for the few, not the many”

Oh Children! Please!

Well, it’s been an interesting week in Parliament – and it’s only Wednesday!..

First we have a cobbled together fudge to get the Withdrawal Bill through a series of votes, then we had a very silly man from Bracknell resigning his ministerial post over Brexit, and then this afternoon a mass walkout by the SNP.

The very silly man in question is Dr Phillip Lee. He resigned over Brexit because “If, in the future, I am to look my children in the eye and honestly say that I did my best for them I cannot, in all good conscience, support how our country’s exit from the EU looks set to be delivered.”

As a result his constituency party is considering deselecting him because Bracknell voted overwhelmingly to Leave in the 2016 referendum. It’s never a good idea to go against your electorate (Soubry take note) especially if you decide to resign over an issue and fail to follow protocol by informing your constituency party first.

So this afternoon, SNP leader in the House Ian Blackford refused to sit down when ordered to by John Bercow having asked for the Commons to sit in private. This was in protest at a lack of debate on what he said was a “power grab” in the EU Withdrawal Bill. Bercow threw him out of the house. It’s not often I agree with John Bercow, but he was quite correct on this occasion.

It seems the SNP is getting hot under the collar about powers currently devolved to Brussels being repatriated to Westminster. Now quite how Scotland being dictated to by Brussels, where they have no practical say in the matter, as opposed to being dictated to by Westminster where they have a substantial party presence makes things worse I really have no idea. Nor, I suspect, do the SNP.

Still, look on the bright side. As the entire SNP followed their leader out of the House in protest, this afternoon’s continuing debate on Brexit should go much more quickly and smoothly…