That was another week that was.......

I say I say I say. What do you call a bloke who doesn't know his arse from his elbow, has an over inflated ego, and has no need for the BT friends and family package?.......(Please fill in your own punch line/name/etc here. Thank you)

First rule of showbiz, open with a gag, close with a song. You have got the song to look forward to, ooh you lucky bastards.

So, what's been happening recently? What has caught my eye, tugged at my heart strings, or rattled my cage?

I very much liked the story about Irish people harassing Romanian immigrants in Belfast. An absolutely stunning example of double standards. Irish travellers (Or thieving, littering, anti social free loading scourge of the planet, as they are known everywhere else, except in the recycled, dolphin friendly, Ex Cambridge University, lentil eating pages of the Guardian) seem to have no problem at all landing themselves over here. Destroying everything in their wake, stealing from the local community, completely disregarding the law in every way possible, leaving our green and pleasant land looking like a shit hole, but when the shoe is on the other foot, they are up in arms arn't they!

My favourite bit of the whole sorry saga, was when Martin McGuiness, who is the minister for something or other, and who is an alleged ex member of the IRA (He was) and has been rumoured to have actually taken part in some of the murdering etc (He prob did) chirped up in defence of the Romanians. I was driving at the time and listening to Radio 4 (Fucking intellectual me guv) when i heard him say "These people are being terrorised."

I had to pull over as i was gasping for breath. A quite outstanding display of 'pot and kettle' The words "That's rich" couldn't find their way to my lips quick enough. A memorising display of irony.
I for one, will not stand for any disrespect aimed at James T Kirk's misunderstood nemesis.

Moving on.

The house of commons has got a new speaker.......whoopee do shit.

Jordan (or Katy Price as she now likes to be called, since she has stopped being a thick, self centered, balloon titted ego maniac) continues to be all of the above. It's just now she has gone solo, instead of being one half (wit) of a double act.

This hot weather is doing my head in. I have to admit to spending the entirety of the winter months moaning about the cold, the grey skies and the drizzle, and then once we hit June, i am a sweating, melting wreck. I just don't do heat.

I suppose being half a stone overweight doesn't help, but i find the most affected area is my gonads. As we all know from our science lessons, things in general swell when hot. This means that i have to adopt a mild bandiness in the severest of temperatures. I try my best to disguise my bandy gate, but i don't think i am fooling anyone.

I am thinking of investing in some kilts. I can't wait to feel the breeze caressing my testicles, oh to feel them swaying gently will be sheer bliss. It is also a great way of pursuing my new hobby of exposing myself to single mothers on public transport! "It's not my fault your honour, it was a gust of wind."

The subject of the wearing of jeans at work has reared up again. The wearing of jeans at work has been forbidden. Well about bloomin' time I say. I welcome this directive. I must admit in the past, i have had a certain amount of hostility to what i once thought was a draconian, and ill conceived notion, but thanks to Father time, and a management style that is second to none, i have seen the error of my ways.

How could i have been so short sighted? Quite frankly, i don't mind admitting that i feel deeply ashamed. Ashamed of my denim addiction, ashamed of my insolence, ashamed of my blatant and disgraceful disregard for those that know better than me.

I can see now, that i have spent years that cannot be regained, wearing the filth that is denim. I will go as far as to say, that this is tantamount to self abuse. Yes ladies and gentleman, i am going to get this off of my chest, no matter how ugly it may be, no matter how hard it is going to be for those close to me to accept. Here goes.......I have been abusing myself for years.

My God that feels better. That lung full of air that i just inhaled is the sweetest lung full of oxygen that i have experienced for years. I feel clean, sanitised, chaste, i am a new man. These rather fetching beige slacks that i am wearing as i type this, feel damn good next to my skin i can tell you.

So can i just say from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you to all of you (and you know who you are, you unsung hero's) that have saved me from myself. These tears i shed, are tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of gratitude. God bless you.

I think my favourite amusing/irritating experience of the past week, has to be this.

I called into The Co-op on the way home from work the other evening after work. I had to pick up a few provisions, and so parked the car and entered the shop. Now partly because i was in a bit of a hurry, and partly because i am a middle aged, absent minded old twat, who will no doubt soon be being pushed in a wheelchair rapidly towards Switzerland, on a one way trip of a lifetime, I forgot to take my sunglasses off.

As i am sure i have mentioned before, i wear glasses, and so my sunglasses are prescription one's, and so necessary for seeing. I couldn't be arsed to turn tail and swap them, so i carried on wandering up and down the aisles.

Can i just state here and now for the record, i was in no way trying to be cool, pretentious, hip, rockstarish at all, it was purely forgetfulness, and idleness.

I did briefly consider pretending i was blind, so as not to court any unfavourable bitchy comments, or tutting, or "Who does he think he is, wearing sunglasses indoors - wanker." type comments, but i thought to hell with it.

I was meandering down the frozen veg aisle, when the inevitable happened. I wasn't paying any attention to the people walking towards, and then passed me, all i heard was something along the lines of "Tut, i can't stand pretentious twats that wear sunglasses indoors."

I spun round, preparing the tirade of abuse that i was going doll out, but i was stunned into silence. My jaw hung slack, as i gazed at my verbal assailant. The, what must have been sixteen or seventeen year old youth, that had aimed the word "pretentious" at me, was wearing a FEZ!.......Yes that's right, a Tommy Cooperesque, one hundred percent fucking FEZ!

Sigh.......

Bollocks, i am too exhausted for the song, sing it yerself.......