Month: Dec 2019
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For Fox Sake…
Well, my Boxing Day was relatively quiet – just how I like it. Though not everybody could say the same. Prominent Remain lawyer Jo Maugham QC was out in his back garden, too-small-satin-kimono-clad, duly dispatching a wild fox that had strayed into his chicken complex (no pun intended). As per the current penchant for microblogging,…
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Monkey Business
I was flabbergasted by the accusations of racist chanting at Tottenham Hotspur last week. Well, it’s just that I wasn’t initially convinced that the monkey noises were anything other than their own primitive attempts to communicate. Just wait until Spurs become fully Mourinhoed into the institutionalised 1-0 – that’ll teach ‘em. I mean, one of…
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Let’s Snip It in the Bud…
The author JK Rowling has been lambasted for tweeting a message of support for somebody who has lost an employment tribunal, in which they failed to secure legal protection for their support of the position that ‘sex is real’ and therefore cannot be changed. The Twatosphere has gone into meltdown. People cannot contain themselves. But…
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A State of Denial
Just when you thought that we had had enough madness for one year, think again. A petition has been launched to press the PM to ask the EU for an opt-in associate membership for UK citizens. In other words, Remain for all has failed, but we would like a non-reciprocal Remain deal for ourselves. Is…
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A Crisis of Competence
As the dust begins to settle, both Labour and Liberal Democrat parties in the UK are contemplating their imminent leadership changes. So, you can well imagine an army of potential superstars waiting in the wings, right? Wrong. There is of course no dearth of volunteers for both posts, though both parties are afflicted by a…
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Don’t Blame It on the Sunshine
So, it’s all determined. A thumping majority for the Tories and the worst showing for Labour since 1935. And the analysis had already hit full throttle before my Christmas spray tan had dried at 10pm on Thursday evening. The truth is, we will never be able to put our finger on precisely why everything panned…
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Fake a Line!
Berlin, April 1945. And Hitler isn’t happy. He’s preparing for a news conference to publicise Flypaper for Freaks and Freaking Hired! and he desperately needs a line from one of the books to slot into the slide deck. But Max Frances is nowhere to be found. So, Hitler has an idea… He summons his valet…
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This Throbbing Election…
Well, we’re heading into the final straight of electioneering, and the milieu is heating up faster than a junkie’s spoon. Or not, as the case may be. Whomever you elect to select – or select to elect – our political world is utterly shot away. In what has been arguably the most vacuous and debased…
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Seeing Stars
After what feels like a lifetime of banging my head against a brick wall about charlatans who assemble careers from zilch – you know, the ones who flit from role to role, staying just long enough before they get unmasked – there are some shysters who had wholly limboed under the Frances bar of shitbag…
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Adolf Hitler – My Part in His Downfall…
Berlin, April 1945. Deep in the Führerbunker, Hitler is unhappy about the £8.99 paperback price tag on Freaking Hired! He thinks that no book price should exceed £2.99. The trouble is that the Flypaper for Freaks paperback price has already been set at £14.99. The Generals are trying to broach the subject delicately, but Adolf’s…
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