First of all, a happy Christmas to all of my readers. Yep, a bit late – but a happy Christmas, not holidays, winterval, Kwanzaa, or whatever else.
There’s been no shortage of news over the last few days – it has been pretty much business as usual. We have had the usual silly “celebrity” stories and Prime Minister Gordon Brown bleating about a Briton (hmm, really?) with bipolar disorder (hmm, is that so?) being executed in China after being found with a year’s supply of heroin. (Good.) Then we have have had the story of Brown’s predecessor Tony Blair and the six million pounds it costs every year to keep him safe – with every single penny being footed by the taxpayer.
Of course, all of this is lost on the deluded Mr. Blair, who while bleating about carbon footprints and all that other bullshit is very happy to jet about making short speeches about essentially nothing for large sums of money. He has made a mint – and for what? Leading this country into what has become the biggest recession this side of 1929, leaving us under the command of an unelected nincompoop, and tarnishing British history with a litany of lies and meaningless soundbites.
I often speak of wanting to cave certain heads in with blunt instruments, and in fairness a lot of this is angry bluster; however as far as Blair is concerned I would happily make the most of any opportunity to breach his expensive security cordon. Of course, the very fact that it costs so much to protect this crooked bastard suggests that I am not the only one who would very much like to do a “Berlusconi” on him – though preferably with a very pointy metal replica of Big Ben.
However, a story that has made me happy today has been the one of a speed camera in Hampshire being blown up with what is thought to be an explosive device. Needless to say, the police are readying themselves to launch a full-blown investigation into this insidious example of domestic terrorism. Ooh, Matron.
Given that my ramblings on this blog have probably alerted the authorities by now under some ridiculous clause of some obscure anti-terrorist legislation, it may well be that some police resource has now been allocated to watching my every move just in case I happen to buy a replica model of Big Ben or stock up on saltpetre. And to the person who is burgled tonight and had to wait because there are “no officers available” to answer their call, I sincerely apologise in advance.