Great Fantastic Smashing

Morrisey is looking increasingly like Jim Bowen, don't you think? How long before my gay friends start having Bullseye parties instead of gathering around recordings of the Eurovision Song Contest.....

For The Benefit Of Mr Kite

And the other reader who is not referred to me via Guido, to whom I stupidly offered this little missive, here is wot I reckon the Sun should have wrote about the Budget...

TOFFS' TIPPLE DUTY FROZEN

By Stalin's Gran-Watson

Gordon Brown continued Labour's sucking up to the boss class in his Budget yesterday by freezing the duty on champagne.

Toffs will pay the same for their tipple as before - but the working man was hit with big rises in the cost of beer and fags.

Quaffing his "champers" from a crystal glass, smoking a large cigar and wearing a top hat while grinding the faces of the poor into the dust, Sir Richard Croesus, boss of Amalgamated Amalgamations, the international amalgamations firm, boasted to the Sun: "I've always been Labour, old boy!"

Well, it made Paul Linford laugh.

A Bellyfull Of Sugar

I was nailed to the sofa after a few bottles of Belorussan Pinot Noir (not bad after the first two) late last night and caught something which appeared to involve Alan Sugar shouting at young people. I assume it was on BBC15 or something because, I now learn, it was first broadcast last week. At least a wine bottle falling over had not switched the TV to Channel People's Porn or XXX Amateur Factory Workers as it often does. Apparently, the programme was about business or something similar and called the Apprentice. Anyway, despite my befuddled state, I soon realised what a terrible, terrible thing this was. First, what does Alan Sugar (Sugar, Schmugar, I say) know anyway? Amstrad were crap, weren't they? Secondly, the young people concerned (who all seemed to be called things like Syed, or Mani, or Strange Girl With Big Tits, although that one could have been just in my mind) were clearly all knobheads. Today, Sugar is in trouble in the Mail for saying his televisual school of bearded Jewish capitalism and East End aggression was not a Further Education college "where dumbkopfs come to learn to make mistakes". As the Mail helpfully points out, his new computer firm, Viglen (is that crap as well?), supplies a great many FE colleges. He has been complained about by no less a body than the Association of Colleges. Quite right too. Git.
But I digress. This programme is a disgrace. It promotes the vacuous, meaningless, management-speak culture in which we are now forced to live and which has if anything been encouraged by this poor excuse for a Labour government. The knobheads all described themselves as "management consultants" or some such bullshit, but they could not appear to work out that if you sell a piece of pizza for less than it costs to produce it, you are not going to make money. Even I know that and I think a command economy is cutting edge stuff. Now it might be said that such a programme is actually exposing the ridiculousness of these people, but I fear that may be just false consciousness on my part. In fact the very idea that these appalling wannbes have to give up their proper job (its amazing - actually, perhaps not - that they have ones) to compete for Sugar's approval and a job with the multi-millionaire for a whole £100,000 is capitalism run riot. Add to that the modern media culture where this is entertainment and you have a society gone absolutely mad.

I Am Smoking A Fag (Why Rod Liddle Should Be A Tosser But Isn't)

A lot of people seem to thing Rod Liddle is a bit of a tosser, and it is true that as he gets older he seems perversely to be trying to look more and more like Bob Geldof. At least you can't see the earring any more because of the unkempt, over-long grey hair. But, whatever, he becomes an Honorary Hero of the People for his remarkable appearance on Sky News last night. Somehow, Rod had persuaded Murdoch's televisual minions a) to have someone more interesting on than the usual b-list, brain-dead zombies from the Times and the Sun, ie himself, and b) to allow him to be interviewed in a Westminster pub. As I was in a pub myself at the time, I could not hear a word he said, but I am sure it was good. Anyway, there he was having what I assume was a verbal dust-up with John Lloyd of the New Statesman, when clearly it is signalled by the interviewer that it is Lloyd's turn to speak. Rod, not realising that the screen has been split rather than being filled entirely by Lloyd, reaches nonchalantly forward, grabs a fag, lights it and takes a big draw. A scene unlike anything seen since the 1960s, when interviewees used to puff away freely throughout the programme; and do you know, back then, not one single TV studio burned down? Rod's actions, however, have clearly stunned the producer/cameraman who is aware that Rod is still on view to however many people actually watch Sky when James Rubin isn't on (that was a joke). A hand is seen waggling at Rod in a "what the bloody hell are you doing, you can't smoke on telly" sort of way. Rod thinks for a second, then smirks and takes another puff. A medal for the man, please.

Anatole Kaletsky: What Does He Do? And Why?

Never has the word "tosser" been more cleartly defined than by this patronising, pathetic, arrogant bleat in the Times that their alleged economics guru can't buy nice bread any more. Trees died for that. In vain.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,1061-2087780,00.html

Oaten She Tell Him To Bugger Off ?

Heartwarming, do you not think, to see Mr and Mrs Oaten together again after all she has been through and all that has been through him? A lovely picture of them together on the front page of the Daily Mail, I thought. If only there had been a gate, like David Mellor's famous family pic. But a word of warning to Belinda. Take a good look at Oaten's face, and indeed, his general demeanour. The balding shaven head. The bit-too-loud suit. The slightly too garish, fat-knot tie, askew as well. The fat lips and the cheesy, how did I get away with this, grimace/grin. There are hundreds of people who look like that in politics and in lobbying (which Oaten used to do). And the majority of them are gay. And if they are not gay full-time, then people like that will certainly lend a hand when they are short. And who was the also shaven-headed man in the other picture in the Daily Mail? I think we need to know. No, don't trust him Belinda. He's a shit, dear.

My Wife Does Not Understand Me - Or Indeed English

The New Roman Empire has actually given the East a delicious revenge on you lot in the West. After the accession of nations from behind the old Iron Curtain (as I believe you called it - we preferred the Great Defensive Wall Against Capitalism) into the EU, there is now a huge influx of our people into your countries. Particularly young women. Particularly good-looking young women. And with the brain of every British woman under the age of around 37 fried by years of drug abuse, particularly the cursed E, they are atttracting a lot of interest. Which will inevitably lead to a big injection of Slavic genes into the British population. Gotcha!

What A Load of Shite - Andrew Neil Exclusive

Sorry, I have just had a very boring evening watching Question Time and then some fucking shit presented by Andrew Neil and I accept I should get out more. Any offers at all...oh well then. Anyway, first off, how can the BBC, possibly, possibly broadcast that patronising rubbish by that cunt Dimbleby, from Skegness, no less. He looked like he had been hit in the face by a wet fish, which it would have good if he had been. Let's not go into the panel - though I am sure Alan "Dinky" Duncan would love it - but let us look at the host. Patronising, as I said, and he is some cunt who paid journalists on his family-owned local paper in south west London - hardly a cheap place to live - not many thousands of pounds a year, probably less that he gets per night for patronising sad, hairy-eared blokes in jumpers, and also charged said journalists for their notebooks. By hairy-eared, I do not, of course mean Ming Mingy Menzies Campbell who was on. Sorry to use the word c++t again but i cannot think of another one.

And then, we had Andrew Neil, fat, balding, Pamella Bordes going out with sad man, with the Laurel and Hardy de nos jours of Diane Abbott and Michael Portiyo on the ever-smaller sofa. Why don't they just do it on screen? What was that you said? Sorry, didn't catch it. Yeah, unlikely, I admit. And they were both wearing pink shirts. Then Rod Liddle , best editor of the Today programme there has ever been or will be, doing a gurning turn on something or other and do you know what, if I was him, I would go home to Surrey and shoot myself........Unless his girlfriend was awake.

Tony Banks

Wasn't a cheeky chappie. He was a class-traitor, useless, womanising cunt.

Surprise Surprise

Blair's "surprise" visit to Iraq? A surprise? I am surprised they weren't waiting for him with a battery of SAM's.

Dave is God

No, honest, he really is. He is just brilliant, fantastic, young , vibrant, call me Dave, potent, fertile, all-embracing and, dammit, a winner. I would let my daughter marry him. I would encourage her to give him a blow job whether he married her or not. But he would remember her name and thank her nicely afterwards, I bet. He is the man to lead the Tory party to victory. He wears nice suits. He can shave himself, unlike some of those blind Labour bastards. He is married to posh totty. He is great. And please forget anything I or anybody else has said about the Tory party before this. Thankyou.

Hello, Hello, It's Good To Be Back - And Dave

Inspired by my one fan - thank you soooooo much for the message - I have decided to stage a comeback. That Cameron bloke, eh? What a toff. Personally, I would like to see his entire class wiped off the face of the earth, preferably by a painful disease. Or, as I have often advocated, we should give the buggers free heroin (cut with something nasty). That said - and his wife has a tattoo on her ANKLE, woo hoo, despite being the daughter of a Duke, how f**king amazing - the Tories have finally made a good choice. The bastards.

Whack Whack Whack

Why was Timmy Mallet back on television last night? He appeared to be on Question Time pretending to be some chap from the Daily Mail called Quentin Letts.

And what rebate on fees do you think parents of pupils at Brighton College should get for allowing that preening pixie and Blair "biographer" Anthony Seldon use the school they pay for and of which he is headmaster (how does he find the time?) as a backdrop to his overweening pretensions on the dreadful This Week (ha ha, ho ho - copyright Andrew Neil)? God, it's awful. Bring back Mark Mardell and his train driver's uniform. Please.

Blackpool

Should be nuked. Now.

Finally Getting To The Bottom Of It

It has become clear. The penny has finally dropped. The veils have lifted. A discussion in a Westminster pub illuminated my world view and explained a lot. "What you don't realise," said a special adviser for a Cabinet Minister after a few pints of Youngs, "is that we are all Leninists." Well, it's a start.

Willetts Backs Davis For Tory Leader

It really could not get more exciting, could it?

Piers Is In Paperback

With his crap and highly inaccurate diaries of his time as the editor of an alleged newspaper. If you must have it, steal one - don't give that cant any money.

Revision: It's only £3.99 on Amazon - so please wait until they put the price back up before stealing one.

Nice But Dim

Well, not particularly nice, according to John Humphrys, but the saga of Tim Allan, former Number 10 spindoctor, and the "Humphrysgate" tape is a fascinating little snapshot of the links between New Labour (the Labour party you CAN eat between meals) and Mr Murdoch's multi-national empire. But before we come on to that, perhaps we should discuss the sheer incompetence of Mr Allan's behaviour. The first rule of spinning is DON'T GET CAUGHT, and the first thing that Tim managed was to get caught. He was the only person in Britain who had a tape of Humphrys' speech. So who leaked it to the Times? It doesn't take Columbo to work that out, Tim. So there we have Alastair Campbell's former right-hand man, former spin-chief for Sky and then "independent" PR consultant (main client - Sky. Tax dodge, anyone?) committing a PR sin worthy of the most junior wannabe with a 2:2 in public relations from the University of Ilkley. So how did Tim reach the dizzy heights of PR hero-hood? Well, there is the Number 10 thing, of course, and when he left there he did an MBA and then worked for Sky. Strangely, Margaret McDonagh, when she left as general secretary of the Labour party, also ended up doing an MBA, which, last I heard, cost money. Thanks Rupert? Tim's wife, of course, works for the Sunday Times, where she heads up the cutting-edge Homes section, and Tom Baldwin, the reporter who received the tape, lives in north London and up Alastair Campbell's a*se. Campbell's a*se is well-set on a chair at the Times where he writes a sports column probably written by more people than read it. Oh that the levers of influence should be in such hands!

Thanks A Million, Kelvin

How fitting that Kelvin Mackenzie, the former editor of the Sun, has generously agreed to help raise money to rebuild a home for retired journalists.

http://media.guardian.co.uk/presspublishing/story/0,7495,1563981,00.html

After all, he personally "retired" quite a few.

Into The Garden, Maude

And please, please, please do not come back, is the view held of dear Francis, Tory party chairman, by many party activists and insiders, right across the Conservative political spectrum.
It is now clear, say those who claim to be in the know, that the move to shift the voting power in leadership elections from the grassroots to MPs will be lost when it comes to a vote.
Leaving the party in its customary state. Hopeless.