Odd-bod Volvo Driving Comb-over Chap. Murderer?

So, what do we think, pop pickers?

I'm all for stringing the fucker up.

Oh, but hang on a moment - he's not actually had a trial yet, has he?

Obviously, Sky News in combination with other bog-roll worthy newspapers don't think our judicial system is capable of dealing with this chap fairly and have done us all a favour by negating the need for a trial at all, and presumed him guilty.

I have to say that it's disgusting.

He looks like a weirdo with his comb-over and odd dress sense, but neither of those things make him a murderer. And just because he's been arrested doesn't mean he'll be charged.

So let's all settle down a bit, eh?

As you can see from my caption, the fact that he drives a Volvo worries me almost as much as the epic hairdo.  Come to that, if we're looking to hang people for crimes against our perception of what's normal, Ken Dodd and Janet Street-Porter would have been dead years ago.

Still, time will tell if he's been a naughty boy and murdered poor Jo Yeates. In the meantime, Kay Burley can bugger off on the horse she rode in on.

We'd all do well to remember the horrendous Rachel Nickell case and how Colin Stagg's life was ruined by an over-zealous Metropolitan Police and a media baying for the blood of an innocent man.  Turns out that professional headcase Robert Napper was responsible for Rachel's murder and a string of rapes and indecent assaults over a period of many years. 

If it turns out that Chris Jefferies is responsible for the murder of Jo Yeates  he deserves whatever
comes his way.  Until then, he deserves to be afforded the same rights that the rest of us are entitled to.

Vince Cable, Head Mongtard.

This here is self-important twat Vince Cable.  He has declared war on the Murdoch Empire. He also has nuclear weapons.  He will shortly be invaded by the United States after he ejected Hans Blix of the IAEA and his team of weapons inspectors.  Mr. Blix has confirmed that Cable does have a stockpile of enriched uranium tucked up his arsehole, and has the capacity to strike deep at the heart of absolutely fuck all without even so much as a 45 minute warning. 

Get a grip, Vince. If you left the government, I very much doubt that anyone would even notice. Or care, come to that. 

For Clarity...

My Twitter profile describes me like this:

Rotund Tenor in the South Oxhey Choir. Spurs fan. Globetrotter. Miserable bastard. Oracle. Adonis. Opinionated twat. Conservative. Lover of Jelly Tots.

The clue's in the title, friends.  If you don't like it, do one. 

Political Correctness, Racism, and Stupid Wheelchairbound Students.

If you've been paying any attention to FaceBook or Twitter today, you'll notice that I'm very fucking annoyed. It would appear that certain sandal-wearing bearded fuckwits have an issue with the things I say. Or at least, someone had an issue with something I said today:


'At the quack's for my physiotherapy appointment. I feel like a bloody foreigner. Polaks and people of the Asian persuasion everywhere...'

One of my Twitter followers decided to call me a disgrace for having said this on my timeline, and then went on to tell all his friends about what a racist I am.

This is racist? Er, enlighten me? It's racist to point out that I was in a minority of one among approximately 15 people? That's racist? Do me a fucking favour and grow up.

It was, and remains, a fact. The Pope is Catholic. That, too, is a fact.  Nelson Mandela is, in fact, a black gentleman. Need I fucking go on?

RACIST! 

How easy is it to throw that remark around? It's laughable in the extreme to suggest that I am racist. It would be fairer to say that I'm not bothered who I offend.  All that this person has shown is that they understand nothing about the term 'racist' or 'racism'.  Anyone who knows me will tell you that my disdain for mankind in general is anything but discriminatory. This is because we're all capable of stupidity in equal measure.  To suggest that I am racist because I point out that I'm surrounded my Asians or Polaks is pathetic.  Ask the good folk of Luton if they're surrounded by Asians and call them racist when they tell you that they are, you fucking idiots.

rac·ism

–noun

 

1. a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.

2. a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination

3. hatred or intolerance of another race or other races.
 

So, come on all you do gooders and knowers of the English language.  Come on.  Roll up and tell me what part of my Twitter entry is racist. Tell me what part is intolerant. Tell me where I have demonstrated the belief that I am somehow better than someone else because of my race. You won't. Because you fucking can't. Because I aired a FEELING, not a fucking racial or political view. Those of you who are offended by it are POLITICISING it. You're all sandal wearing sycophants to political correctness, and people like you are responsible for a lot of what is wrong in the world at the moment. Go out and buy a razor.  And, no, I don't care that I've just made what could be considered a sweeping generalisation because I truly am THAT fucked off with it. 
 

Since we're on the subject, and because I'm annoyed, I'll tell you precisely where I stand on the subject of Polaks, folk of the Asian persuasion, and others who treat this country like some sort of soft touch.  This also goes for those who can't seem to get off their fat arses and into work, regardless of whether they're Asian, Polak, Balkan, Albanian, Slovakian, Black, White, Green, Yellow, or Blue with Pink FUCKING SPOTS. (Apologies to any nationality or race that I haven't mentioned, because I'm sure that for some goody-goody I've been racist for having left you fuckers out)

I have no gripe, NONE WHATSOEVER, with anyone coming to this country who wants to contribute to what makes it GREAT. However, I do take issue with those who are here that haven't or don't put in.  Why should the likes of you and I pay for these people to take advantage of the NHS and other local services when they've put nothing towards it.  What you who throw this racism card about don't understand is that the vast MAJORITY of people will agree with me, but are frightened of offending the likes of you by AIRING IT.  

Has anyone seen the footage of the woman in The Sudan being publicly beaten for wearing trousers today? Would it be racist of me to say that I believe the Sudanese regime to be backward, medieval, and unnecessary? Would it be racist of me to say that the soldiers filming this poor woman are total and utter bastards for laughing while it took place?  Is it so wrong, and am I so far wide of the mark when I say that the people of some African, Middle and Far Eastern countries are patently incapable of having any good nature toward their fellow human beings? Would it be racist of me to state that I don't want people like that living among my friends and family, or using my local services? 

We live in what is called a democracy.  It allows me the freedom to say things that people may find offensive.  Democracy doesn't entitle you to an apology if you're one of those offended.  I have to say that preventing people like Pastor Terry Jones and Dutch politician Geert Wilders from entering this country offends ME. Not because I agree with the things they say, but because I defend to the death their right to say it. My argument is that sometimes we're too tolerant of the religious views of some minorities, and this is something totally different to racism. It's just easier for you to call me racist because it means you don't have to have a difficult discussion. 


Anyway, moving on.

Now, as for this disabled student twat being dragged out of his wheelchair. (Sorry, have I used the wrong term there? Is disabled still acceptable, or what?) If you are going to misbehave and cause all manner of trouble for the police, you deserve all you get.  The fact that you happen to be in a wheelchair and may have a mild affliction does not automatically entitle you to behave like a total fuckwit. Nor does it mean that you are above the law. We've all seen the footage of the Plod begging you and your brother to calm down before you got tipped out of your happy-wagon, remember?  You were behaving like an arse.  And if you were behaving like an arse in a pub or on the street towards me, I'd have tipped you out of your fucking wheelchair too.  Because let's face it, you're less dangerous out of it, aren't you.  This matter is at the very core of the equal rights you demand.

I admit, the way in which the above is presented is not politically correct. Either way it gets the job done and puts the point across without fannying around or putting ribbons and bows on it. 

I am permanently pessimistic about humanity. Days like today serve only to compound my pessimism. Before you start using words like 'racist' and saying that I'm a 'disgrace', have a look at yourself. Who do you offend with your over-intellectual views? Who you do you exclude by trying to be the fountain of all moral fortitude? 

Only 1 of 410 people took issue with my remark. Enough said. 
 

Which one of us is more offensive?

It's Winter. Fucking Deal With It.

This last weekend, I visited the lovely cities of Ieper in Belgium, and Lille in France. This is an annual trip where I take my dear mum and auntie along with me, enabling them each to purchase 6 months' worth of booze and whatever other old shite they can find.

I was rather worried about having to drive to Folkestone for the Euro Tunnel shuttle to Calais and beyond, but putting my concerns aside, I diligently drove around the M25 and then the M20. Yes, it was a bit hairy on the black ice and whatnot, but we made it all the same.

Upon reaching the Calais it became apparent that our lovely French cousins had seen a bit of snow, too. Well, a lot of snow, actually. I also noticed that their roads appeared to be clear despite the snow and the sub-zero temperatures. I was absolutely fucking astounded. For Christ knows how long now, we've had various meteorologists telling us that it's going to be 'very cold' and that we're going to have 'snow'.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but is it not fucking winter? Just what excuse can we have in this country for allowing a bit of snow to bring the entire country to a fucking standstill? I had to laugh at Herts Highways Twitter feed which stated that: 'Gritters on standby, road temperatures below zero, snow expected later, but we don't think it will settle'. WHAT IF IT DOES SETTLE?! What that feed should have read was 'Gritters on standby, we don't think. Ever.'.

We're all aware that the cost to the economy when the country is 'snowed in' under a few centimetres of snow is massive, so why the fuck don't they grit the bloody roads JUST IN FUCKING CASE? Surely they'd be better off having too much salt and grit rather than not enough? All this bollocks about how severe weather 'can't be predicted' and is 'unusual' just doesn't fly any more.  These twats are full of pathetic excuses.

On Saturday, I drove from Ieper to Lille, not a massively long journey, about a 45 minute drive.  It BUCKETED down with the white stuff. All the way. Chaos? No. Road closures? No. People sitting in cars on the hard shoulder? No. So what's the bloody difference? Everything! 

So the country becomes a bloody disaster zone because we are buried under a few centimetres of snow.  Jesus, ring the Pope. Call in the Army!

It's WINTER. Fucking deal with it!

Wenzel's Orgasmability

Something different for you today.

Today I visited Wenzel's in the unmitigated shithole that is Uxbridge and treated myself to a Crispy Bacon and Egg Mayonnaise roll.  While I was disappointed that the employees were of the Polak variety, I have to say that I was delighted with the quality of my roll.  It was fairly large, and I couldn't fault the asking price of £1.60 despite my proclivity to a good old haggle. The bacon was indeed crispy and that's no bad thing, because there's nothing worse than floppy bacon in a roll in my opinion.  I was also pleased with the quality of mayonnaise that had been lovingly blended with the large chunks of egg.  Honestly, the whole thing was a taste sensation!

The only area of disappointment was that Wenzel's only sell Welsh mineral water in their Uxbridge shop.  I'm loath to drink water from the Principality that gave us Neil Kinnock, irritating shrieking gobshite Charlotte Church, and that strumpet with the intolerable accent from The One Show.  In fact, I'd rather drink my own piss.  It wasn't until I'd finished drinking it that I realised what I'd done.  Bloody good job that I have the whole weekend to detox with copious amounts of alcohol.

Anyway, pay Wenzel's a visit! They make good stuff.

For Fucks Sakes...

Those of you who know me will be aware that I am, on a daily basis, becoming increasingly fucked off with people in general.  I feel constantly let down by my fellow humans.  That's if some of them are human at all, because I'm seriously beginning to wonder. 

We've all got our pet hates, and it'd be fair to say that I have more than most people.  I assume it's part of getting older?

Anyway.

Recent Annoyances:

Why do I have to wait for ten minutes at my local to get a pint?

Why, when I half-jokingly complain (because despite your inability to be altogether effective in your role, I do concede that you're generally likeable) that I've been waiting for ten minutes, do you always look at me like something that just dropped out of a dog's arse and say:  'Well, I'm working on my own', or 'I was running food', when really what you mean is that you just suffered an horrific triple fracture of your eyelash and it required immediate attention or the whole world would suddenly have come to a shuddering halt.

Why do young men have hair styles that actually belong on young women?

Why can't I park my car without a spotty PCSO (with one of the above hairdos) telling me that my rear bumper is hanging over the mong space by four inches?  If the people using the mong spaces drove those little blue invalid carriages like they used to instead of government subsidised dribble wagons they'd HAVE ENOUGH ROOM, wouldn't they!

Why do women drive 4x4 vehicles?  Do they all live on farms?  Or are they just pretentious cock gobblers who delight in the corpulence of their husband's wallet, while all at the same time feeling it necessary to share their deranged delusions of grandeur with the rest of us?  I'm rather leaning toward the latter.

Facebook

Now, Facebook just irritates the bloody life out of me.  Not so much the concept itself, more the fact that people tend to play out their whole lives on there for the whole world to see. 

I don't care if you've split up with Marvin. 

Or that the reason you split up with Marvin is because Kaz told you he shagged your best friend, her mum, and her dog. Twice.

I don't care that you're back 'in a relationship' with Marvin because you found out that the part about him shagging the dog belonging to your best friend's mum wasn't true.  Or at least that's what Kaz's friend, Shaz, told you.

I don't give a fuck that Kaz is a lying bitch.

And I won't give a fuck when, in 9 months time, Shaz'll be up the stick with Marvin's sprog because they both turned out to be unmitigated liars, and the night Shaz was watching Marvin allegedly shag your best friend, her mum, and the dog (twice), he was actually shagging Shaz and Kaz.

I don't give a fuck about Farmville, and no, I don't want to join in  And stop fucking poking me. 

I always assume the reason you're putting an invite to your 'party' on Facebook is because none of the people you spend any time with on a daily basis can be arsed with you when you're sober, never mind drunk.  Moreover, you need to get an idea of numbers so as you know whether to book the Savoy or just stick with the telephone box as planned.

Honestly, it's absolutely mind-numbing.  I just want to know if there are any REAL people out there?

Hello? Hello?!

Poppies.

It's that time of year again.  I was browsing through my photographs of Belgium and France earlier today, and came across this beauty.  Tyne Cot Cemetery.  It is impossible to even begin trying to imagine what these brave men went through to ensure that I am able to air my views on this blog today.  When I visit these war graves and monuments my pride is overtaken by a sense of interminable sorrow at the complete waste of life that was The Great War, and every other war before and since.  

I'm not sure if these men would have fought were they to know what this country would become, but their courage in the face of impossible odds should never be forgotten, nor taken for granted.  Along with their present day counterparts, they deserve nothing other than our complete respect and gratitude for putting their lives on the line for the ideals that each of us hold so dear.

We will remember them.

Katy Perry or Cheryl Cole?

I'm leaning towards Katy Perry, myself.  The only downside is that Russell Brand's love truncheon has already been there.

Still, even that's better than having Ashely Cole's seconds, I suppose.

Modern Football, Danny Murphy, Indiscipline, Diving, and the Offside Rule.

THE OFFSIDE LAW

First of all, I'm not sure that Mark Hughes should be wagging the finger at referees and linesmen about the application of the laws of the game given as he spent a fair part of his career breaking them - class player though he was.

So the offside rule. To me, it makes not a jot of difference that my beloved Spurs had the benefit of Mike Dean's decision on Saturday, the offside rule is a total joke.  Quite why FIFA had to complicate a perfectly good, workable rule that everyone understood  is beyond me.  I accept that it was done to promote attacking football, but clearly the interpretation of the rule is so blurred now that no one really knows what's going on.  There is an art to defending.  Arsenal under George Graham are a perfect example, it helped them to great success in the late 80's and early 90's.  You don't have to be a fan of the type of football - and God knows I'm not - to appreciate that it was effective, and that his team had the discipline and the know-how to do it to great effect.  FIFA go on about how referees should have discretion in their application of the laws of the game. The old offside rule was simple in that a linesman or a referee could use their discretion as to:

a) Whether or not they felt a player was interfering with play by standing in an offside position

Or:

b) Whether or not a player was seeking to gain an advantage by standing in an offside position.

Or:

c) Whether or not a player was just plain offside.

What FIFA have done by talking about phases of play and so on has done nothing other than to confuse fans, players, and officials into having 101 different views, none of which appear to be completely correct.  The Spurs goal on Saturday should not have stood.  The second Everton goal yesterday should not have stood. Both William Gallas and Aiyegbeni Yakubu were standing in offside positions, and I honestly believe that they are equally offside. None of this rubbish that neither of them touched it the ball.  Gallas threw a leg at the ball in the hope he was going to get a touch to it.  Yakubu was standing directly in front of Pepe Reina, blocking his view.  In my view, the way to deal with the issue is to give discretion back to the referees and linesmen.  Go back to applying the offside rule sensibly - if you're offside and hanging a leg out for a ball, or if you're stood in front of the goalkeeper blocking his view, accept that you're offside and get on with it. However, while I disagree with Mike Dean's decision to allow Spurs' second goal on Saturday, I applaud him for having the balls to apply the laws of the game as he saw fit at the time.

DANNY MURPHY's BIG PIE-HOLE

Now, Danny Murphy and his views on dangerous tackles and indiscipline. He really ought to keep his daft mouth shut on matters of discipline.  Particularly when you consider that I for one can remember last season in the Europa League when he got himself sent off for a moment of sheer petulance in the last minute of a tie with Shakhtar Donetsk.  It's all very well, Danny, if you're whiter than white yourself and you come out with these remarks about the behaviour of other teams and their staff. But for someone who currently sits at number 58, with 46 yellow cards, on a list of all 2016 players ever to have been booked in the Premier League, you might want to start weeding your own garden before looking over the fence at those of your fellow professionals.  Enough said about that, really.

MAROUANE CHAMAKH

On to Mr Chamakh and his Tom Daleyesque display of diving so far this season.  Funnily enough, I can see why the referee was conned on Saturday into giving Arsenal their penalty.  Doesn't alter the fact that it was a dive, and diving is cheating.  Mr Chamakh has won 5 penalties this season for Arsenal.  Some teams don't get 5 penalties in a season. I can think of at least 3 of those penalties where the consensus among fans - even those of the team he represents - and pundits alike was that Mr Chamakh had gone down like he had been clobbered by a giant invisible frying pan.  But fair play to him, a 60% cheat-to-conversion-rate isn't bad for a team with a manager who repetitively extols the virtues of fair play.  Which brings me on to my next point.

ARSENE WENGER

I'm not going to sit here and batter Arsene Wenger for the sake of battering him.  After all, a lot of what he says is pure common sense, and to argue with every point of view of someone who has had his success is just ridiculous.  So believe me when I say that I'm not writing this as an Arsene Wenger hater, or just because it makes me feel better as a Spurs fan if I give the Gooners and their manager a bit of stick.  I'm writing this because I hate some of the things Arsene Wenger says.

Mr Wenger:  It simply is not good enough to sit in judgement of the style of football played by everyone else just because it no longer fits in with your idea of how the game 'should' be played - and I'll tell you why.  When you were winning things, it was perfectly acceptable for members of your squad to behave like animals.  It hasn't always been quick passing and silky skills, Arsene

Patrick Vieira - 78 yellow cards, 8 red.

Gilles Grimandi - 23 yellow cards, 3 red.

Martin Keown - 49 yellow cards, 5 red.

Emmanuel Petit - 15 yellow cards, 3 red.

(To name only 4)

Now, we could go into the stats a bit deeper and analyse how many appearances they each made - not that many in the case of Grimandi and Petit - but what'd be the point? None, because the point is already proven.  Anyway, just to drive it home a bit further, and this is the part that makes any rhetoric he comes up with about everyone else completely obscene in my view, Arsene Wenger presides over a club that, in the all time discipline league, sits in 42nd place out of a possible 44 teams.  Worse than Bolton, Wimbledon, Blackburn, Stoke, Leeds, Leicester, Birmingham, Wolves and everyone else apart from Chelsea and Everton. 

I don't entirely disagree with Mr Wenger's view on tackling.  What I will say is that it was fine for Arsenal to behave like the very teams he is so quick to accuse of using thuggish tactics when it was bringing him success and silverware.  It was fine to miss the bad tackles.  It was fine for him to defend Patrick Vieira when he spat in Neil Ruddock's face after having been sent of during a game against West Ham United.  English fans aren't stupid, Arsene, we don't forget these things.  Even recently, and on more than one occasion, he has seen fit to walk from the dugout straight down the tunnel with his nose in the air instead of offering his hand to the manager of the opposition.  All too frequently it appears that he doesn't practice the very things he perpetually harps on about.  Where's the fairness, respect, sportsmanship, grace?  Maybe it's a good thing that he was put in a position on Saturday where he couldn't defend the indefensible.

To make my position completely clear on all of the above, and before I get a whole shitload of Gooners coming down on me like a ton of bricks, I will offer you a summary - and this will be as balanced as everything above.

No one team is whiter than white.  No one player is completely innocent.  I don't believe that players fall into such tight stereotypes as people put them in.  I don't believe that any player goes onto the field of play with a mind to hurt a fellow professional.  I don't believe that Jack Wilshere intentionally went in studs-up on Nikola Zigic on Saturday.  I don't believe that Ryan Shawcross, Karl Henry, or Nigel De Jong deliberately went in to break the legs of Aaron Ramsey, Bobby Zamora, or Hatem Ben Arfa.  The point is that Zigic could have been injured just as badly as a result of a mistimed, ill-judged moment of over-exuberance from one of the finest young players this country has seen for years.  What makes a  mockery of Mr Wenger is that this player happens to be one of his own, and it appears that not even he, the great Arsene Wenger, can keep his own players from making grave errors of judgement.

Tony Pulis, Mick McCarthy, or Sam Allardyce do not have their teams playing a style of football that fills me with joy.  However, I don't have to like it.  Football is a contact sport and should remain that way.  We each have different ideas of how it should and shouldn't be played, but it's not for the purists of this world to tell people like Pulis, McCarthy, and Allardyce that their style is wrong.  

It most certainly is not the place of players and managers who have struggled to maintain their own discipline and that of their teams down the years to be acting like judge and jury on the perceived ill conduct of their fellow professionals.

My Dad Was Cool

I was 14 when he died in 1992.

When I was 14, anyone in their 50's was ancient.  My dad was 54, and now I recognise that 54 really is no age.

I just wanted to put something on here because we often laugh about my dad's little failings and foibles. We chuckle because he could be abrasive to the point of being amusing.  I remember his bluntness, and how it could be hurtful sometimes. I remember how he said exactly what he thought - and bugger the consequences. ( Don't know where I get that from?) 

I was thinking to myself... We remember these things because we've each inherited them in some way.  My sister, Lesley, is capable of giving you the same look as he did, and makes me laugh in the same way my dad did.

My brother, Graeme, has my dad's stoicism and sharpness of tongue. He even sounds a little bit like him, sometimes.

Mark inherited my dad's quietness, and the wisdom to know that sometimes it's better to listen than speak.

Andy forever holds dad in the highest esteem, and despite their differences, grew to love him and have the utmost respect for him. 

Sometimes I think all of us are little unfair towards dad, so just for little while, I'm going to defend him, because he was quite cool after all. (Despite his penchant for bad swimming trunks).

He liked The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, The Who, and The Kinks. He liked Nat 'King' Cole, Jim Reeves, Roger Miller, and Dean Martin. He liked Kevin 'Bloody' Wilson, and the Fureys.

He watched Fawlty Towers, Monty Python, and 'Allo 'Allo.  He supported Luton Town Football Club.  He liked to watch Golf on the telly and laughed at Peter Alliss' commentary. He used to let me stay up late on a Wednesday to watch Sportsnight. 

He made the best potato cakes in the history of the universe.

He liked cough candy and blackcurrant and liquorice boiled sweets, and he'd eat them until his tongue was sore.

He took me to Cornwall, Scotland, Spain (twice), Ireland, Florida, France, The Lake District, Hatfield House, Kentwell Hall, Blenheim Palace, Lavenham, Portsmouth, HMS Belfast, The Cutty Sark, Cheddar Gorge, Tower of London, Houses of Parliament, London Dungeon, Farnborough Air Show, Hendon RAF Museum......  I'd be here all night if I listed all the places he's taken me.

He took me sledding when it snowed. He tried to teach me how to play golf. He played cricket with me.  He was a capable golfer himself.  He worked hard and made sure that I never wanted for anything.  He took care of my mum. He had a cracking sense of humour. He liked reading, and furthering his knowledge.  He took me to Harrow Model Shop and bought me a model yacht that we sailed together at Rickmansworth Aquadrome.
He used to drive fast over the bridge on Batchworth Lane in Northwood because it made my tummy go funny.

He taught me that one can never read enough.  He showed me that I should learn for myself the things I haven't been taught.


I'd give anything to spend a night in the pub with my dad, enjoying a pint together. And that is truly the only missing memory.


But before you think I'm a morbid old sod, I'm eternally proud of my dad, and despite him being a cranky bugger at times, there are genuinely no truly bad memories.  I know that we all miss him terribly.


And it's true.  My dad was cool.

Why I dislike committees.

Funny things, committees.

I am a member of a social group of people who share an interest. We work as a team. Now, as far as I'm aware, working as a team requires teamwork. Teamwork is not a by-word for how much members of the team like or dislike each other. A team doesn't require its members to even speak to each other in order to function effectively. 

Now committees are, generally, a pain in the arse. This is because they tend to be manned by people who like to embark on little power trips, those with inflated egos, and those who are slightly out of touch with both modernity and reality.  They tend to forget that they are an elected body. They are given that gift by the same people they continually let down. They also tend to forget that they can be removed as quickly as they were elected.

Now if I were to make an ambiguous remark on my personal Twitter feed, for example, and another member of my social group happened to take offence to that remark, should the committee become involved?  Now, bear in mind that this remark has not made directly in reference to another member, but that this person has chosen to interpret it in a certain way.

I am well aware that sometimes the things I say may not be to everyone's taste. I know that sometimes the things I say are offensive, and I know that I say them to elicit a certain response or to start an open discussion.  I will not apologise for being this way, or for saying the things I say.  Nor will I pander to the feelings of other people who happen to disagree with my sentiments.  Of course, that isn't to say that I don't listen or take on board what other people think, feel, or say - on the contrary, in order to have a rounded opinion on any matter, one has to listen to many well rounded arguments and points of view.  I proudly defend all of our right to free speech, and will not apologise for the things I say.  I'm not sorry if I offend.  No one is asking you to agree with the things I say. Nor is anyone making you read it.

Amazingly enough, the incident that sparked this writing does not directly involve me, or anything I have put in the public domain.  This stems from the execrable behaviour of a group of outdated, boorish, puffed-up, self absorbed people who think they are the moral authority on all things great and good, when in fact they serve on a panel alongside like-minded trolls whom, it would appear, believe it their divine right to police the personal websites of those who elected them.

So an ambiguous remark on a personal Twitter feed is then turned into an allegation of bullying. 

Then the person fuelling the flames of these allegations is guilty of the very thing s/he is alleging.

Furthermore, it transpires that s/he is a member of the same committee passing judgment on the person accused of bullying in the first instance.  Am I the only person having a bit of problem with this whole shebang?

When you give monkeys power, they're still monkeys. And monkey is as monkey does.

I'm certain that the people I'm talking about won't have the faintest idea that I'm talking about them, because they're too absorbed in their pathetic little power trips to take note of anything that us mere minions are doing.  They would do well to take note, though.

What I put on my personal Twitter feed is my business.  If you don't like my business, don't read about it.  If you do read about it, and you feel the need to manipulate it into something that offends you, don't expect me to justify it.  Don't be so silly as to think the attention and support of a group of vacillators will somehow prevent you being offended in future, or that their supercilious finger-wagging is miraculously going to stop me from posting the things I want to post - yes, even if you find it offensive.

Real people deal with their issues with other people face to face, by behaving like adults.  I'm 33. I don't need a mediator telling me what they think the other person needs to hear because I don't say the things I say to make anyone feel better. 

I am able to decide for myself what I wish for people to read or hear.  I leave it at your discretion whether or not you wish to read or hear it.

Ultimately, that is exactly what I'm talking about.

Tory Cuts. Labour Cunts. Malingerers.

So, now that the dust has settled a little bit after Mr Cameron and company announced last week that there are going to be cuts to the benefit system, I am now going to tell the world how I see things.

It's all very well for young Ed Miliband and his co-wankers to bang on about what's fair and what isn't, but none of his horse shit changes the fact that the previous government - the one that he and his lizardesque brother served in - are ultimately responsible for the monumental pile of shite that we're all wading through at the moment.  The fact that anyone still listens to them at all after the mess they left us all in never ceases to amaze me.

To me, it's very simple.  People who can't be bothered to get of their fat lazy arses and go to work should be made to work for their dole money. There's plenty they could do in all of our local communities to brighten the place up. I can think of lots of things like: clearing up dog shit and chewing gum. Removing graffiti, sweeping streets, helping old biddies with their shopping and such.

All these twats who bang on about how they're 'better off not going to work because I 'earn' more on benefits' will soon be whistling a different tune when they finally realise that you get nothing in this life for sitting around sponging from the rest of us.  Amazing how those who stand to lose the most appear to be the ones making the most noise. They're the same people who don't know what it's like to do a day's work, or have at the very least forgotten.

It absolutely disgusts me that people think it's okay for the rest of us to pay their way.  It's legalised bloody theft, if you ask me.  It's not a bloody Giro these wankers need, it's a good kick up the sodding arse.

It's all so bloody simple. If you're earning 44k per year... you don't need child support, and to my mind it's nothing short of fucking criminal to deny this. 

If you happen to be a rich pensioner, you don't need a winter fuel payment, or a free bus pass, or a free TV Licence.

And if you can walk, there's no reason why you're sat at home on your fat malingering workshy arses while Local Authorities could be making better use of your time than it would appear you're able to. 

Yes, start means testing people. Do it!  What are you frightened of? Someone finding out that you'll actually be okay without getting handouts from a Government that has inherited an economy totally crippled by socialist overspending and borrowing.

Times are fucking hard.  Deal with it.  Don't be so bloody stolid and at least have the good sense to recognise that Labour put us here. If you're looking to apportion blame, blame those who fucked the whole thing up, not those who are trying to un-fuck it.

Petrol Prices, Labour Twats.

You'd think that since El Gordo claims to be a decent sort of chap he'd have a word with his man on the Commons Business Select Committee. Perhaps he'd like to tell Lindsay Hoyle to stop making such ridiculous remarks about the price of fuel at the pumps.

Lindsay told The Telepraph: " it's a complete disgrace".

Yeah! No shit, Sherlock.

And stated that "crude oil has gone up this year, but nothing like the rise in petrol prices. Motorists are being legally mugged at the forecourt by petrol companies."

What the phuck?! Legally mugged at the forecourt by petrol companies?

Lindsay, I'll give you a little breakdown of what us consumers are really paying for - just in case you need reminding.

If a litre of unleaded cost 108.9p, it would be split in the following way:

DUTY: 56.19p PRODUCT: 30.37p VAT: 14.2p RETAILER/DELIVERY: 8.24p

I can't be bothered to work out the exact percentages, but it doesn't take Einstein to figure out that less than one third of what we're spending actually goes towards fuel in my tank. Moreover tax, in one form or another, accounts for roughly 60 percent of the amount we're all forking out for fuel. How is this right?

I'd have to ask Hoyle who we're really being mugged by. To my mind, it isn't the Petrol Companies...

El Gordo talks about unemployment figures, and his track record of getting people back into work. It won't be long before we're all out of work because we can't afford to bloody well get there. Public transport is expensive, unreliable, and of poor quality, so why would we want to use that?

Anyway. Onto other El Gordo/General Election matters.

One of our best parlimentary orators since Churchill, William Hague, outlined in his 2009 conference speech exactly what El Gordo and his cronies have 'acheived' since 1997. It doesn't make pleasant reading:

- £22,500 of debt for every child born in Britain

- 111 tax rises from a government that promised no tax rises at all

- The longest national tax code in the world

- 100,000 million pounds drained from British pension funds

- Gun crime up by 57%

- Violent crime up 70%

- The highest proportion of children living in workless households anywhere in Europe

- The number of pensioners living in poverty up by 100,000

- The lowest level of social mobility in the developed world

- The only G7 country with no growth this year

- One in six young people neither earning nor learning

- 5 million people on out-of –work benefits

- Missing the target of halving child poverty

- Ending up with child poverty rising in each of the last three years instead

- Cancer survival rates among the worst in Europe

- Hospital-acquired infections killing nearly three times as many people as are killed on the roads

- Falling from 4th to 13th in the world competitiveness league

- Falling from 8th to 24th in the world education rankings in maths

- Falling from 7th to 17th in the rankings in literacy

- The police spending more time on paperwork than on the beat

- Fatal stabbings at an all-time high

- Prisoners released without serving their sentences

- Foreign prisoners released and never deported

- 7 million people without an NHS dentist

- Small business taxes going up

- Business taxes raised from among the lowest to among the highest in Europe

- Tax rises for working people set for after the election

- The 10p tax rate abolished

- And the ludicrous promise to have ended boom and bust

- Our gold reserves sold for a quarter of their worth

- Our armed forces overstretched and under-supplied

- Profitable post offices closed against their will

- One of the highest rates of family breakdown in Europe

- The ‘Golden Rule’ on borrowing abandoned when it didn’t fit

- Police inspectors in 10,Downing Street

- Dossiers that were dodgy

- Mandelson resigning the first time

- Mandelson resigning the second time

- Mandelson coming back for a third time

- Bad news buried

- Personal details lost

- An election bottled

- A referendum denied

So when listening to El Gordo and wondering whether or not to vote Labour, think of this list. Ask yourself if you'd like another five years of this? I'd rather phone Philip Nitschke, or maybe check into a Swiss death clinic...

If I Ever End Up Incapable...

Euthanise me!

It's my choice, is it not? That nice Australian Dr. Philip Nitschke was in Londinium today providing info on how to do oneself over to interested folk. Good on him!

I can remember discussing the joys of euthanasia with the debating society at my secondary school. My view hasn't changed. Course, this is a personal view, and yours may differ.

So, here we go.

Now that I am of sound mind (sort of) and am able to make educated decisions regarding my life, why should I be stopped from putting down in some legal terms what I want done with me in the event of me turning into a cabbage? You know, like we do with Power of Attorney, and (pardon the pun) Pay-as-You-Go Funeral arrangements?

I cannot think of anything worse than being a burden on my friends and loved ones. I believe this is my life and I choose to live it in a manner that I see fit. Who else has the right to decide what happens when it comes to my death? Doctors sort of do already when they withdraw treatment. Well, I want to be able to sign a piece of paper that outlines what happens to me in the event of me being incapable. And I want to do it now. It's not for everyone, I accept that. But I believe it's my choice.

Now, someone tell me what's wrong with that?

Venables - Have We The Right to Know?

Er, no.

If you've read my previous entries on this here blog, you'll already know that I have my own ideas on how I would deal with Venables. However, whether we like it or not, we do not exercise the death penalty in this country, nor does a life sentence really mean what we'd like it to mean.

So, the matter in hand.

Now that the fuss over the whole issue seems to have died down a bit, I think it's safe now to offer my considered opinion. We can't have it both ways in this country. I'm a firm believer in allowing the law to deal with everyone fairly, regardless of their history. In that respect, Jon Venables is absolutely entitled to a fair trial over whatever it is he is alleged to have done. I don't say that for the sake of it. It takes a bit of deeper thought. It's easy for everyone to jump on the bandwagon and media hype surrounding the subject and say that we all have the right to know who he is and what he's done.

We don't.

I'm a bit tired of people peddling the 'it's in the public interest' line. There's a simple differentiation that needs to be understood. Just because something is interesting to the public, does not make it in the public interest. What do we stand to gain by finding out Venables' new identity? What do we stand to gain by finding out what he is alleged to have done? Some self satisfaction and the right to say 'I told you so'?

If you consider the whole picture, you have to back Jack Straw's decision that we will not find out what he's supposed to have done, or even who he is. The events of last week go to prove two things: Firstly, that innocent people can get caught up in media hype, and end up being on the end of utterly false allegations, and secondly; that if Venables' identity and alleged crimes were all over the media, he could not possibly receive a fair trial - innocent or otherwise.

You have to separate the events of 1993, and the events of 2010. Of course, that is never going to be easy. The level of public revulsion for the murder of James Bulger is completely understandable, and I am of the opinion that they should never have been released in the first place. However it is undoubtedly sensationalist to suggest that Venables is more evil than other murderers purely on the basis that he was involved in the abduction and murder of another child. Those of us who buy newspapers and react to the reports in the media buy into this sensationalism, and take it as fact. It isn't.

In order for the whole issue to be dealt with properly, justice needs to be served on Venables, and if found guilty of any serious crime, the weight of the law should fall on him so heavily that he never is never at liberty again. It should be enough to know that the law in this country will deal with him as it deems reasonable.

The public at large want to know who he is for invalid reasons. Justice is not served by vigilantism or lynch mobs - it's not how we work in the UK. Everyone says that he deserves to be strung up, or murdered himself. Two wrongs do not make a right.

Justice has to be served on Venables - but it most certainly has to be served fairly.

South Oxhey Choir - An Inspiration

Hello again, everyone.

Thought I'd write another little something on a happier note this time.

You may have seen the TV Series 'The Choir - Unsung Town' on BBC2 a while back.

The Real Life Series focused on the residents of South Oxhey, a large council estate south of Watford and Gareth Malone's attemps to form a choir from its residents. I've lived in South Oxhey for 30 odd years, and while it's had its problems and even now is far from perfect, to me it's home and it always will be.

I wanted to put into words what the choir means to me, and there's no better medium than my little old bloggykins.

I've played guitar for many years, done the usual gigs on stage in front of 200 or so people, and I have a huge and varied music collection. Music is a passion of mine, it really is. Funny then that until I saw the TV series, I never even gave singing in a choir a thought. I popped along to a rehearsal that SOC holds every Tuesday in what is my old Primary School assembly hall, and I'm so glad I did.

So what does it do for a man?

The opportunity to meet various likeminded folk is always a bonus, you can probably tell that I'm not backward in coming forward! Most of all it fills a person with confidence. You have to let your inhibitions go, and not be frightened of making mistakes in front of lots of people. It teaches discipline, patience, new languages, posture, breathing, teamwork, and restores your pride. It also opens up a world of music and various styles that otherwise you may never have given a second glance.

Inhibition is the enemy of creativity and success. I've been fortunate to have met so many new people who accepted me immediately as part of what feels like an extended family. I now socialise with people who live two minutes away from me who, until September, I didn't even know existed. Rehearsal night is something to look forward to, because I get to see my new friends and catch up, have a good old chinwag and a giggle. I don't care how daft I look sitting in my car at traffic lights practicing our material over and over again. Choir has allowed me the privilege to perform at Watford Colusseum in front of an audience of over 1,000 people. At Easter we are going to sound absolutely amazing in the undeniable majesty of St Albans Abbey. It truly does open up a whole new world.

We are lucky in that Gareth Malone, our illustrious choirmaster, decided to stay with us after the TV series was finished, and he's still here today. He is a true inspiration to us all. His love for music and choral singing shines through in everything he does. Clearly Gareth is an extremely talented, dedicated man who has a personality so infectious that we can't help but do what he asks of us to the very best of our ability. He's also a self-effacing kind of bloke, and I know he'd hate for me to say so, but I feel indebted to him for making everything just seem a bit more worthwhile.

If you get the opportunity, join a choir. I promise you'll love it.

In all fairness...

I feel terrible for Aaron Ramsey. I really do. A serious injury like he has sustained is a dreadful thing, there can be no argument. But...

And there is a very large but...

I feel dreadful for Ryan Shawcross, too.

When all things are equal, you have to look at the facts in the harsh light of day. There is much wrong with football, and we could harp on about video replays and the offside rule for years. You may think that this is about to be some psychotic anti-Arsenal, anti-Arsene Wenger rant, but read on, for you may be surprised.

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I'm afraid I fall on the side of Stoke City manager Tony Pulis when it comes to when and where someone should air them. It's not right that immediately after a game - even if it's a dull 0-0 draw - that a microphone is shoved under a manager's nose. The questions are invasive and designed to get a reaction from managers and players, and that can't be right. We accept that people say and do daft things in the heat of the moment, so would it not be a better idea to allow the heat of the moment to pass before asking a manager what they think about the latest wrong decision or dodgy tackle?

Probably.

But we all know that is what happens. Managers know it. Players know it. And we as punters know it. We love it - it gets us talking. So, on to my points.

I'm going to start with Rafa Benitez, the odd man of Liverpool. It seems to me that after every game he is critical of something. The thing is, he dodges the issue at hand with what he clearly considers to be his charm and wit. I think he brings the game into disrepute by sarcastically not saying very much at all. 'Everything the referee did was fine'. Why say anything at all if you don't mean it? Would he like to be treated like that? To have every move scrutinised and criticised to such an extent that eventually he was unable to do right for doing wrong? He's fortunate in that he has so far managed to maintain support from the terraces, or he'd be out on his ear. History, of course, is firmly in the past. The attitude that there is somehow some God-given right to success because of past achievements is wholly unacceptable, and that's the very attitude he puts across.

The facts at Liverpool are really quite plain. It's entirely down to Rafa Benitez and his clearly not so good management skills that Liverpool are only hanging on to fourth spot by the skin of their teeth. Allowing Xabi Alonso to leave was a disaster. That was a mistake, Rafa, and everyone makes them. Even you.

Now, on to Mr Wenger and what I perceive to be his failings. Wenger's failings are few and far between, but to deny that he doesn't have one huge flaw is just ridiculous. You don't have to necessarily like someone in order to have respect for them. Wenger is Arsenal's most successful manager in the modern era. You have to respect him for his achievements, for the way in which his team plays the game, and for his nouse in the transfer market to some degree. But I find myself rapidly losing respect for him because he sometimes says some patently ridiculous things.

What happened on Saturday to Aaron Ramsey was just bloody awful, and when you witness something like that you have to put your tribalism aside. As I've said, I feel desperately sorry for him. I also feel sorry for Ryan Shawcross. No professional footballer is going to go into a challenge like that with the malicious intent to break someone's leg. We are dealing in split seconds here and I think we'd agree that there was no malicious intent on the part of Ryan Shawcross. His reaction to the incident made it perfectly obvious that he hadn't meant it. Mistimed? Yes. Horrific? Absolutely. Does he deserve to be publicly vilified? Absolutely not.

Serious injury is a part of football. As a Spurs fan I can remember the challenge on Gary Stevens that pretty much ended his career. I can remember John Fashanu's horrendous elbow on Gary Mabbutt. Jan Wouters on Paul Gascoigne at Wembley in 1993. Ben Thatcher on Pedro Mendes not so long back. There are thousands of examples of malice in football, but what happened on Saturday was not one of them.

I do not agree with Arsene Wenger that his players aren't protected enough, and I do believe in coincidence. Arsenal play attractive, top quality football - we'd be utterly daft to deny it. But God knows it hasn't always been that way! I struggle most with Arsene Wenger's habit of publicly slagging off everyone and everything that doesn't conform to his current idea of how the game should be played. For a man who for fourteen years has presided over a team with one of the worst disciplinary records in the Premier League, it is absolutely astounding that he should accuse other players and clubs of kicking his team off the park.

I wholeheartedly stand by this point of view: It is an absolute miracle that, although an immensely talented footballer, Patrick Vieira's behaviour in an Arsenal jersey did not result in him having seriously injured someone. Arsene Wenger would be much more credible had he acknowledged and accepted that. He didn't at the time, and he hasn't since. This is precisely why he is in absolutely no position to take the moral high ground on matters of discipline. Afterall, what's good for the goose?

Wenger carries on about what is and isn't acceptable as if he is The Chosen One in terms of football management. What is unacceptable is that Wenger has consistently defended the indefensible and never offered even mild public criticisism of his own players for their misdemeanours on a football pitch. If you aren't going to do at least that, you have no right to criticise players from other teams, and the constant 'I didn't see it' cop out is not good enough when it's one of your own who is in the wrong.

I can understand why Wenger, Arsenal, and their fans are upset with what happened on Saturday. But just ask yourself this: If one of your boys was half a second late on Shawcross on Saturday, and it was his leg that had been broken in equally horrendous circumstances, would you want your player banned for life? Would you want his reputation being brought into question? Would you want someone with the same clout as Arsene Wenger passing judgement on him?

At least Tony Pulis had the good common sense and decency to come out and give an honest view on the matter, without avoiding the issue by saying he didn't see it.

There are some things that are indefensible on a football pitch. I'm a Spurs fan, but I would never shy away from saying that Paul Gascoigne was a fucking idiot in the 1991 FA Cup Final - footballing genius or not. Moreover, one of the worst tackles I've ever seen on a football pitch was Tottenham full back Mauricio Tarrico's effort against some poor Evertonian a few years back. It's impossible to defend behaviour like that. So why try? But at the same time I accept that accidents happen. Was Luka Modric nobbled deliberately by Lee Bowyer earlier this season? Course not. It was an accident, and accidents happen as often as coincidences.

Everything has to be put into perspective. The managers of our beloved teams are not always right. We'd all do well to make up our own minds instead of standing behind people who have opinions that are so clearly flawed.

Cheryl and Ashley: Who gives a fuck?

Well, apparently Sky News do.

I am sooooooo bloody annoyed...

Can someone tell me what this country is coming to when Cheryl and Ashley Cole's separation takes up the first 10 minutes of Sky News' 6pm programme?

There's been a fucking enormous bomb in Newry, a General Election round the corner, and news about Terrorists and their training camps, and those two twats get TEN MINUTES? Interviewing OK! Magazine? Asking them if they've been in touch with Cheryl and Ashley's friends?! PLEASE!?

Get a grip, for fuck's sakes....

Jack Straw Announces End to ECL Programme

Oh, well that's jolly good of you, Jack.

"I have always recognised that, while necessary as a temporary measure, it was inherently unsatisfactory and potentially damaging to public confidence in justice."

What is even more damaging to public confidence in justice, Jack, is the fact that your half-arsed programme meant that 80,000 criminals were released early. 15,000 were categorised as violent offenders and 2 were terrorists. Furthermore, from those released on ECL, 1,500 of them went on to offend again, including a number of rapes and murders.

This government bangs on about it's excellent record of lowering crime. It pledges ungodly amounts of money to pointless schemes like this Broadband nonsense, and yet it seems to have forgotten to invest in our prisons. To my mind, this is a massive thirteen-year failure of government.

It's hard to argue with Dominic Grieve's assertion that, while Chancellor, Gordon Brown "choked funding for the prison cells the Home Secretary had asked for to provide the capacity required to meet official projections of the prison population."

Anyway, moving on.

We haven't executed anyone in England since 1964. I'm starting to wonder why. I won't apologise to all you Human Rights activists out there. I am of the opinion that those who commit the most heinous crimes automatically waive any Human Rights afforded them. Of course, that's not to say that they shouldn't receive a fair trial.

I believe there is an argument for bringing back the Death Penalty. I believe that where evidence against an individual is forensically and scientifically unequivocal, the option of sentencing that individual to death should be left at the discretion of the Judge. I don't know whether or not the penalty of death would act as a deterrant, and I'm not sure that it really matters. What's important is that the vast majority of law-abiding folk in this country would see that instead of Judges passing somewhat ambiguous sentences to serious criminals, something decisive was being done about serious crime.

We are far too concerned with the Human Rights of individuals who forever chip away at the morals and values that made our country great.

It's about time someone did something about it.

'Oh, a pint o' Guinness for me'.

This old fella had us in fits in my local pub on many an occasion. He passed away this last weekend.

Many times his response to 'How are ya, JJ?' would be: (in his somewhat incomprehensible Irish accent)

'Ahh, I'm all right, son, all down me left side!'

He enjoyed a Guinness, had a shopping trolley called 'Geronimo', and smoked Saudi Arabian fags.

I'll miss you laughing, and farting inappropriately.

Rest In Peace, JJ. God Bless.

Do not knock on my bloody door if...

You are selling something.

The last thing I want to be doing the moment I park my arse down to start eating my dinner is some spotty gimp in a crap suit making me get up again so that he can explain (badly) the benefits of having new windows.

Is it not blindingy obvious to you salesmen that my windows do not need replacing? Do you not know your own product well enough to bloody well notice these things?
THREE times in the last week you twats have knocked on my door when I'm doing something vastly important, like scratching my bollocks or polishing my paperclips.

'Good double glazing can save hundreds of pounds on your heating bill, mate...'.

Firstly: Are you obliquely suggesting that the £4k I spent on my windows was a waste of money?

Secondly: MATE? Bloody MATE? I'm not your mate! I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire!

It's really quite simple. You not making me open my door only to let all my heat out so that you can have the opportunity to orate your useless scripted drivel would save me not only money off my heating bill, but the complete waste of many minutes of my precious existence on this planet that could have been spent doing things other than watching you waft your clipboard about.

What part of 'I'm not interested' do you people not understand? Is it me? Do I speak some alien language you cannot comprehend? And don't ever greet me with the 'We're not here to sell you anything, don't worry' crap the second I open the door either, because that gets my back up right away.

If I ever have the need to make use of a Gardener, Roofer, Everest Windows, Aspen Windows, Rag & Bone man, Lucky Heather lady, or Npower, I'll ring YOU. That's what the Yellow Pages is for.

Ask J.R. Hartley.

Gordon Brown: Bully?

Er, yes. Probably is.

Last week on Piers Morgan's pathetic example of pseudo-journalism, good old Gordon came across as an amiable kind of chap. But then, Adolf Hitler would also have presented as being perfectly normal with that type of questioning.

In the pressure pot environment that is Number 10, it's highly likely that there are spats on a daily basis. Afterall, it's been widely reported that Gordon and Tony often had blazing rows. Funny that he should play that down with Piers last week, and then today the proverbial shit hits the fan. I think he doth protest too much.

Christine Pratt - founder of the National Bullying Helpline charity - states that "three or four" Number 10 staff had called her helpline for advice, and that an e-mail had been received directly implicating Gordon Brown in this alleged bullying.

Is it in the public interest that we find out if Gordon Brown is a bully? Does it really matter? Probably not. What does matter to me is that New Labour have done nothing to address the allegations. It's all very well for Peter Mandelson to come out and say that Ms Pratt is a Tory stooge, but by saying that you're not addressing the issue, Mandy.

To my mind, this is what New Labour has become. Instead of addressing issues, they find ever more creative excuses for not dealing with them, and the public is fast becoming tired of it.