A lighter look at Brexit

Today is the 31st of October, 2019 and by his own prediction (and in his own words) Boris Johnson should be found dead in a ditch. That is what he had said (or promised) would be the case if he asked for a Brexit delay.

Well, he may not be dead in the ditch he dug for himself, but he certainly is in the ditch, furiously back peddling his way out. 

His boast sounds quite hollow now and makes the nick name Bo Jo a bit redundant. Brag Zit sounds more fitting.

Anyway, the new deadline is the 31st of January, 2020. So the Brexit Boogie continues. A new deal in, a new deal out because the MPs have shaken it all about. 

They'll do the Brexit Boogie until the 31st January, then turn the PM around to ask for another deadline and continue dancing until that deadline. Brexit on repeat. That's what it's all about.

However, there is a general election in December. Things might change then. And pigs might fly. Politicians may start serving the people rather than themselves. Donald Trump may stop tweeting. The list is endless. 

Who knows? I don't have a crystal ball but if I did, it probably would have shattered by now, from stress, boredom, frustration... once again the list is endless.

In the meanwhile, I shall wear a helmet and a face shield if I venture out this evening. 

There are predictions of scarily dressed little rioters demanding sweets and flinging eggs if their demands are not met👻.

Until next time, try and keep it light! 

Light observations

Having recently flown abroad, I noticed a phenomenon that had previously passed me by. Most passengers are now sporting an almost must-have accessory. 

As a result, you see lots of passengers walking around in the airport with glorified, cushioned toilet seats around their necks.

Now, I understand vertically challenged people needing to support their necks. After all, their necks (mine included) are expected to rest on the part of the seat that is designed for the backs of their taller counterparts.

I was, however, baffled to see tall people walking around with neck cushions as well. Who invited you to the party? I wondered. Then it dawned on me.

The reason is obvious - tall people need support to prevent their heads from lolling forward and bashing their chins on their knees. What with the limited leg room available. Dee-dums... bless their size 14 cotton socks.

Another thing I noticed, is a rather devil- may- care attitude towards sun exposure.

We were on a chartered flight to Goa and on our return flight, it was quite obvious that most had worshipped the hell out of the sun and had discovered a new colour in the process.

While I would not have been surprised with a Donald Trump shade of orange, I saw a tan that can only be described as a shade between beet red and burnt toast. 

Lest you think that the above mentioned President (and his ridiculous belief that global warming and damage to the ozone layer is a myth), has led to this reckless behaviour, let me put your mind at rest.

I overheard more than one person lament that they had fallen asleep due to the heady (and rather lethal) combination of Kingfisher beer and Feni.

Well, no pleasure without pain I guess and at least a good time was had by all.

Brexit, despite sounding like a remedy for constipation, has been practically motionless. The deadline has come and gone, leaving behind at least one casualty - poor old Theresa May.

She started by busting moves to 'Dancing Queen', then had to bend backward to 'Limbo Rock' and all that bending (in limbo) appears to have resulted in her somewhat resembling a hen.


Which makes me think of the story 'The Little Red Hen', where the hen asks for help with various tasks but the farmyard animals refuse and she says, 'then I'll do it myself'. 

Turns out, like the Red Hen, Mrs. May met with refusal from her farmyard animals...oops sorry, colleagues (easy mistake to make, considering all the braying that goes on in Parliament).

Unlike the Red Hen, our Blue Hen could not do it herself. Instead of a reward, all she managed was a new deadline - an extension to Halloween.

Brace yourselves for a scary Halloween. I envision Tay May in full black regalia, complete with wide brimmed hat, jumping on her broomstick, flying to Brussels to save the day.

Stranger things have happened....wooooohoooo........

Until next time, try and keep it light.

A lighter look at the news

You know the question, 'how do you know a person is vegan?' and the answer -  'they tell you five minutes after you meet them?' Well, I beg to differ.

I differ because it does not take me five minutes, and frankly, I am surprised that it takes anyone that long. Usually you can see them coming a mile away, head and shoulders above the rest of humanity, floating on their moral high ground, halos intact.

Now, I don't wish to stereotype any group of people but for some reason, I presumed that vegans would perhaps lack a sense of humour (or should I say, a funny bone).

Turns out, I was wrong. Recently, they petitioned a village in Dorset called 'Wool', to change the name of said village to 'Vegan Wool'. 

Now don't be embarrassed if you haven't heard of 'Vegan Wool' - not too many people have. 

However, because their cup runneth over with concern for all of God's creatures, big and small, they have also volunteered to give each household in the village a blanket made out of hemp, cotton or banana bark (bet you hadn't heard of that either).

I don't envy the Woolites (soon to be Vegan Woolites). However are they going to make their minds up with the choice on offer?

'Will hemp be a bit scratchy?' they might ask themselves. Or,  'Cotton may be smooth but will it be warm enough?' And, most importantly, 'what the hell is banana bark?' 

This could well be a slippery slope to further demands. They may well wish us to ask Baa Baa Black Sheep if it has any Vegan Wool.

As if Baa Baa and co. doing look confused enough most of the time, we are going to perplex them even further.

A few weeks back there appeared to be a chink of light at the end of the long, dark Brexit tunnel. It has taken such a long time for that chink to appear but tragically, it may or may not last - the operative word being 'May' - who like the light,  may or may not last.

Personally, I blame the whole sorry saga on the person who came up with the name Brexit. At the time, I said that it sounded like a remedy for constipation. I was wrong.

It turned out to be more like a cause for constipation - the longest and most painful one in history. And, we all know what prolonged constipation can result in - piles.

I am going to resist the temptation to name those piles after the sterling men and women involved in the Brexit talks. After all,  I am no Boris Johnson.

Mind you, if I was, he would have the honour of the first one being named after him (if one dishes it out, one has to be able to take it Mr. J).

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter look at the news

Theresa May seems to have developed a rather close relationship with her alter ego, Tay May.

She and Tay May had a blast in Africa, busting some dance moves hitherto not witnessed by anyone, other than the African ants that appeared to be inhabiting her pants.

Undeterred by all the hilarity that accompanied her foray into the political dance world, Mrs. May bravely invited her alter ego to the Conservative Party Conference this week.

For some reason, the backing dancers (the ants) were not invited, so Tay May gave a less robotic, much more confident, enthusiastic boogie, to Abba's Dancing Queen - no less cringey though. 

I rewound the six o'clock news three times and each time I fell about on the sofa, laughing like a three year old being entertained by a clown.

After I managed to compose myself, I  will confess that I was a tad concerned. I wondered if the pressure of Brexit had gotten to Mrs May and if she was doing her version of re-enacting Nero and his fiddle. 

Apparently not. It appears that she was just being self-deprecatingly light hearted about her dancing. Aawwwwww!

I have a sneaky suspicion (ahem) that she is reading my blog. If Tay May accompanies Theresa May to her next Brexit talks and starts twerking........all I will say (to Messrs Juncker, Tusk, Barnier and the Nation) is 'you are most welcome'.

Although, one can only hope that the proceedings are private and that there is no opportunity for filming.

After all, we may want the best deal for Britain but no one has to be visually scarred in the process! 


Talking of alter egos, Kanye West and his alter ego - otherwise known as 'God', are back in the news.

Kanye claims that he is off his Meds and is feeling great. Apparently, he is breathing fresh air, thinking, doing and being himself.

Reassuringly, he says, 'when I say I'm being myself, that doesn't mean I'm being Donald Trump. It means I'm being me "cause I am God" (and just like that, the reassurance evaporates).

Well, all I can say to that is thank God he is not under the illusion that he is Donald Trump (one Donald Trump in the World, is one too many) or some might say, 'thank Ye God'.

Until next time, try and keep it light!

A lighter look at the news

You may or may not wonder why Brexit has not figured in  my blog posts recently. I have a confession to make - a guilty (albeit innocent) secret.

The topic of Brexit puts me to sleep. Literally. Such good news for an insomniac like me. I tuck myself in bed, think of Brexit and before you can say 'Jean Claude Juncker', I am in the Land of Nod.

Who said nothing good would come out of Brexit?

Meanwhile, I am not sure if Melania Trump has resigned herself to join them because she can't beat them (them being her husband and his cronies).

Why else would she decide to visit the children separated from their families at the borders and held in 'tender age' camps,(a good decision - her visit, not the camps), and then proceed to wear what appears to be a bespoke jacket that reads, 'I really don't care, Do U?' (a very bad decision).

For someone who got an 'Einstein' visa to the US, that was a rather dumb thing to do. 

I have a suggestion that might help Melania, if the backlash gets too much. Do what her husband's good friend Roseanne Barr did, to recover from her own b(l)acklash: start planting, digging the earth and singing.

And while digging, make sure she buries that awful jacket.

While on the topic of insensitive behaviour, on Fox news, a Democratic Strategist, asked a former Trump Campaign manager, Corey Lewandowski, his opinion on a 10 year old Down's Syndrome girl being separated from her mother on the Mexican border.

Mr Lewandowski's dignified response? 'Womp, womp'.  

In the meanwhile, poor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the White House Press Secretary, booked a table for eight, in her husband's name, at a restaurant called 'The Red Hen' in Virginia.

When the staff realised who was dining at their restaurant, they called the owner, who immediately made her way to the restaurant.

Apparently, she took a vote with the staff (a few of whom were gay and most of whom were not happy with the immigration debacle) and based on their wishes, she took Ms Sanders to the patio and requested that she leave.

Ms. Sanders said fine and left with her party. She later tweeted this:

Awwwwwww!! Such a delightful and confident insight into her own psyche and personality. 

I have two words to say to Ms Saunders, and considering the company she keeps and the administration she works for, it should make sense to her, 'Womp, womp!' 

Apparently, Trump supporters are set to protest in front of the restaurant. In other words, they are going to show their support for the Orange Rooster, in front of the Red Hen. 

Until next time, try and keep it light!

A lighter take on the news

The other day, I bought a rather delicious looking packet of chilli  peanuts. They were not my usual brand, so I flipped the packet to see where they were manufactured. I wish I hadn't.

A 'warning' caught my eye. It said, 'may contain nuts'. Well, I should jolly well hope so. If the packet says 'peanuts' I expect it to contain nuts not rice crackers. Not for a nano second did I think  that there was a possibility that it may not contain nuts.

I tore the packet open and dipped my hand in. They definitely felt like peanuts. I popped a few in my mouth. They certainly tasted like peanuts (with a zing of chilli, as promised). 

So, why were the manufacturers indecisive? Why were they teasing me with the 'may'.

Intrigued, my eyes moved further down only to see a 'caution'. It said 'caution : contains nuts'. Phew! If only I'd read that first, I'd have avoided my moment of panic.

I decided to investigate to see if all products that cause severe allergies have this 'state the obvious and insult the consumer' labelling. 

So, I looked at my box of eggs. It said 12 Free Range Barn Eggs at the top, with 'Medium' below it and 'best before' to the side. I looked to see if it said 'warning : this product may contain eggs'. It didn't. I looked to see if it said 'caution: contains eggs'. It didn't.

So, the special warnings and cautions seem to be reserved just for nuts, written by nuts.

Along similar lines, Gary Barlow also appears to have graduated from the School of 'state the obvious'.

You may have noticed that he has shed some weight over the years. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to ask him about it. Perhaps no one did.

He decided to enlighten us anyway. Why not? Most celebrities think they are endlessly fascinating.

Brace yourselves now. The secret to his successful weight loss, that he so unselfishly wants to share with everyone, is  - freshly cooked food (no processed ready cooked food he emphasises just in case you are a wholemeal sandwich short of a picnic and aren't able to make that deduction).

That is his first tip. 'Exercise' is his next. (I did warn you to brace yourself). Finally, the 'S' word - Sugar! Yes, three huge tips that no one had thought of before.

Thank you Mr. Barlow. If only it was that easy, you could sing 'What a wonderful (slim) world we live in' and add another notch to your belt - a cure for insomnia.

Liam could bearly stand the payne (I do apologise) of being separated from his baby son on his first birthday. He posted a picture on Instagram with a message 'you are my world'.

Despite having such intellectuals for parents, I don't think the one year old can read.  Which is just as well, otherwise he would not fail to see the irony of his dad saying 'you are my world' while flying half way across the world to Japan on his first birthday.

Meanwhile, a certain President was probably hoping that the latest alleged accusations of an affair would turn out to be a Storm(y) in a D cup. But like Britain's Beast from the East, it keeps returning.

Will it turn into a blizzard? Only time will tell - in fact 60 minutes today. And just to get us in the Easter mood, there is a bunny involved as well, albeit, of the Playboy variety.

You will be relieved to know that I don't have the will to go into it or make any puns about it.

Tay May can stop dragging her designer shoes, as the Brexit talks appear to be on course. Now, I am going to sound like I've also graduated from the University of 'State the obvious' but really, all it takes is a little give and take on both sides.

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter take on the news

Cheryl Tweedy Cole Versini Fernandez and a Payne-in-waiting, is releasing a new album. The producer of the said album is someone called Naughty Boy.

Anyway, Naughty Boy is rather pained about people's attitude towards his client and has said, 'I do feel sorry for Cheryl, all she wants to do is make her music.' Well if that is all Cheryl wants to do, I too feel sorry for her.

He further goes on to say, 'I get a bit disheartened because I think people should just wait for the music. It will be worth the wait.' Promises, promises, you naughty boy!

You know how everyone and  their aunty and her cat rushed to have an opinion on Brexit? Well, not Plan B. He took his time. 

In fact he took as much time to form an educated opinion on Brexit, as it has taken him to come up with a new album (far be it for me to be cynical - I am sure it was just a happy coincidence).

Anyway, he grew up in East London and compares Brexiteers to con artists. Naming no names, I can see where he is coming from.

However, he further went on to say, 'when people ask you to make a really big decision quickly, without giving you time to think, they're usually trying to scam you.'

Well, I wouldn't dream of disputing the canny knowledge of an East Londoner. However, correct me if I am wrong, but wasn't it David Cameron who called the Referendum that decided if we stayed or left the EU?

Also, once again, feel free to correct me if I am wrong, but wasn't David Cameron in favour of staying in the EU, or in referendum parlance, a 'Bremainer'? 

Hmmm, made a big decision to give your opinion without giving yourself time to think, didn't you Plan B? Time to move on to Plan C, I think.

I believe some of the best ideas come to us when we are still and sober and some of the worst, when we are restless and drunk. Just ask Rugby Player Dom Flannagan.

Mr. Flanagan was rather inebriated when he had a light bulb moment to start a whatsapp group, 'Dom's Angels'. He then proceeded to write: started a group whatsapp with every bird in my contacts. 

He continued to communicate with all the 'birds'  in the group by issuing this charming invitation:  Hia girls, it's Dom, couldn't be a**** texting you all individually, what you all doing tonight?'

He did get a lot of replies. Unfortunately for him, they were all from Angry Birds.

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter look at the news

It is March and Spring should be on its way in Britain. But not this year. This year, we are being treated to some more than liberal sprinkling of snow.

As usual, things have ground to a halt and this has given some Nordic Countries and Canada (in other words countries that spend half the year shovelling the white stuff), the opportunity to poke fun at us by way of tweets and memes galore! 

Among the tweets and memes, there are 'look at us' show off ones - basically people in skimpy underwear diving into freezing lakes (whatever floats your iceberg I suppose) and  'you pitiful Brits' ones. 

A poor little Kingfisher in Amsterdam was frozen solid. I half expected to see a Scandinavian/Canadian tweet saying 'our birds fly without feathers in -20C.' But then again, it happened in Amsterdam not Britain. 

I seem to recall a late summer heat wave in some parts of Canada last year. I also seem to recall a lot of complaining and a Marathon being cancelled.

What I don't recall is people in hot countries like India going, 'look, they shed most of their clothes in their 'heat wave'. Look at us with our long sleeved shirts and long trousers!' Or 'they cancel their marathons because it's 37C, we play cricket all day long in over 40C temperatures!'

Theresa May has given her third Brexit speech, the gist of which is that we can't have our cake and eat it as well. I'll be surprised if anyone is surprised by that mighty revelation.

Be that as it 'May', the Prime Minister would do well to at least put the ingredients together, taking great care not to let Bo Jo anywhere near the mixing bowl, lest we are left with no cake at all, to have or to eat. 

Melania Trump is playing her hand games again. Only this time, it was less of a bone shattering swat and more of a hand evasion. She expertly dodged the  presidential hand and pretended to use her hand to hold her skirt in place.

Before that, on their way to North Carolina, Trump, ever the gentleman, had dashed out of his car and run up the stairs of Air Force One without a backward glance to see how his wife was coping in the very windy conditions.

Not that I blame him - he was probably trying to avoid another bad (windswept) hair day.

Anyway, in a bid to make up for his thoughtless trot up the stairs, he tried grabbing Melania's hand when they arrived. As if that was ever going to work but full marks for bravery.

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter look at the news

True to his word - he can keep it when he chooses to - Tony Blair has decided to give his tuppence worth of unsolicited advice on Brexit. 

Personally, I think that Tony Blair trying to advise Britain on strategies to negotiate Brexit, is like a firefighter starting a fire and then rushing to put it out. Hail the hero!

Does he have a motive or is he just missing not being in the public eye? Perhaps he wants to be popular again. Impossible to imagine, I know, but he was popular a long, long time ago.

If that is the case, I have three words for Mr. Blair - Strictly Come Dancing. The show that fast tracks contestants on the road to popularity. Just ask Mr. Balls.

Of course TB could never replicate 'Gangnam Style' a la Balls - that will always belong to Mr. Balls but I can see him Salsa-ing to 'Despacito'.I do apologise for the mental image I have inflicted on you.

Come to think of it, I take back my suggestion. The thought of Tony Blair doing a rumba makes me slightly queasy.

From one favourite show to another - 'The Great British Bake Off'. To start with, I sulked and did not watch the first episode of the current series. I dug my heels in and vowed to not watch it this year.

No Mel, no Sue and no Mary- I thought that was most contrary. But then my sources (my girls) informed me that it was just as good on channel 4, so I threw loyalty to the wind and promptly caught up on demand 4 and have thoroughly enjoyed it since.

Unfortunately, there also appears to be a spin off - 'The Great British Fake Off'- starring Paul Hollywood, the baking world's very own George Clooney. Fifteen years ago, Paul Hollywood dressed as the Nazi character from the TV series 'allo,'allo' at a fancy dress party!

This appears to be reason enough for him to be pilloried by the media. He is very contrite and has apologised (unlike a certain ex-PM and Brexit). Also, there is the little detail that Paul Hollywood's grandfather fought the Nazis. I think it's doubly cruel since he doesn't have Mary Berry's delicate shoulder to cry on.

Tut, tut people, save your vitriol for the real white supremacists, not a celebrity baker!
Until next week, try and keep it light!🎈 

                                                              

A lighter take on the news

Having not had any pearls of wisdom thrown our way by that modern day sage Gwyneth Paltrow, I assumed that she was meditating on the foothills of the Himalayas, stopping occasionally to sip wild yak's milk. 

I was convinced she would be meditating on the life enhancing qualities of yak's milk and the possibility of selling the powdered version on her website for £200/- per 100 grams, amidst claims that it helps you live to a hundred and fifty six.

Well, I was wrong. She is very much around. Apparently, in a recent interview, she voiced her regret at parting ways with Brad Pitt. You may not remember that she dated Brad Pitt and who would blame you? It was over 20 years ago.

Now, I wonder if she is voicing her regrets because they have both 'consciously uncoupled' from their respective spouses. Perhaps she is hoping to replace 'Brangelina' with 'Braltrow' or 'Palpitt'. All I will say is, 'run for the Himalayas Brad!'

Talking of consciously uncoupling, the Brexit talks are going nowhere at breakneck speed. The EU representatives are doing a Jerry Maguire "show me the money" impersonation and Britain's representatives are trying to style it out with, 'yeah, yeah, of course we will show you some money eventually but first....'

It's like the two sides are having a staring competition, waiting for the other to blink first. Personally, I wish someone would  poke both sides in the eye simultaneously - perhaps then we'll get somewhere. 

Who knew Mariah Carey was such a tease?! In a recent video for Vogue.com, a glass of champagne in hand, she showed off her wardrobe and when it got to the lingerie section, she coyly said that she would love to walk around her home in just her lingerie. 

You go right ahead Ms. Carey, just make sure your blinds are down. That's what I would call having your champagne and drinking it.

A deputy head of a London School has suggested that parents should not talk about diets and weight in front of their daughters. I think this deputy head should take a trip to Goa, where not just parents, but grandparents, aunties, uncles, other assorted relatives, friends, acquaintances and on the odd occasion, even strangers, take a pop at your weight.

Until next week, try and keep it light!

A lighter take on the weekly news

Now you may or may not have heard the story where Keith Richards claimed that he had snorted his father's ashes. Feel free to snort in disbelief. I know I did when I first heard it. He quite possibly snorted something a hell of a lot stronger and hallucinated 
that it was good old dad's ashes.

He has since said that it was a joke. Missed his calling as a stand up comedian no doubt.

Anyway, here is another 'snorting' story. Liam Gallagher has said that at a Glastonbury festival in 1994, some of his fans mistook the dandruff on his head (he says that he suffers from psoriasis, so there was plenty there) for cocaine and picked it off his head and snorted it or rubbed it on their gums. I apologise if relating this has caused you to retch.

Those fans should be grateful it wasn't cocaine - it would've killed those two brain cells I am generous enough to assume they had.

In the meanwhile Theresa May tottered off on wobbly legs for her Brexit talks. No, she wasn't wobbly on account of 6 inch Louboutins but her self inflicted swapping of adjectives from stable to wobbly. Apparently she and David Davis are still backing a hard Brexit. I suggest some bran to help ease the process.

 Across the pond, that great humanitarian, the Orange one, has decided to be magnanimous. He is not going to build just any wall on the Mexican border. He is suggesting a solar clad wall. He was overcome with self pride as he congratulated and complimented 
himself on his idea and imagination, at a rally in Iowa.

He went on to say that it would create energy and the higher it went the better. This way he claimed, the Mexican Government would have to pay less for the wall.

Could someone research to see if Tangerine Man is a fan of Liam Gallagher and attended the Glastonbury Festival in 1994. It will explain a lot to the rest of the world.

Until next week, try and keep it light.

A lighter look at the news

Sorry that I haven't been posting 'The lighter news' for a couple of weeks (I flatter myself that some people actually read my blogs).  I wasn't feeling very light and, truth be told, not feeling too light even now.

Since my last post, Theresa May has called for a snap election and typically, crackle and pop have followed. Apparently, she felt that she would be better able to negotiate Britain’s exit out of the EU if she had a strong and stable government. Nothing to do with the strong and stable lead of over 20 points the Tories are supposed to have had at the time.

Well, Theresa may or may not win and I may or may not stop making these silly may puns in this month of May and belatedly I realise you may have stopped reading this.

In my first ever post on Brexit, I remember mocking the word ‘Brexit’ - ‘it sounds like a bran remedy for constipation’ is what I wrote. At the time, I didn’t think that it could get any worse, but guess what? It just did. Yes, I give you ‘hard Brexit’.

Apparently, that is what you will get if you vote for Theresa May. And, surprise, surprise, if you want a ‘soft Brexit’, you should vote for Jeremy Corbyn. So, who on earth do people who are regular (yours truly included) vote for?

Also, if the Tories represent ‘hard Brexit’ and Labour represent ‘soft Brexit’ does that make UKIP ‘bunged up Brexit’ and the Lib Dems ‘runny Brexit’? I do apologise for getting carried away but blame it on the person who came up with the word Brexit in the first place.

In the meanwhile, guess who has decided to cash in and is bracing himself (he will need much bracing) for a comeback in an attempt to start an anti-Brexit movement. None other than Tony Blair.

The man is never short for words, so I won’t bother with most of what he said except that according to him, he  is motivated, passionate and wants to reconnect with the people. He also says that he knows that he will get a bucket of wotsit poured all over him when he sticks his head out the door.

Awww, bless him for being so optimistic, using words like ‘reconnect’ and anticipating just one bucket of wotsit being poured over him. Well Mr. Blair, I suggest that, in preparation of the gallons of wotsits that will be poured over you, you wear a heavy duty Mac (Nicola Sturgeon could recommend a good one I am sure) before you poke your head out of the woodwork...oops, I mean door.

Talking of Ms.Sturgeon, on a visit to a Pre-school in Aberdeenshire,she said that only the SNP could stop Theresa May from having a free hand to do whatever she wants to do.

’We have got to make sure that there is a check on the Tories and that there is a strong opposition and strong voices for Scotland’. I am sure those 3 and 4 year olds were reverted. Whatever happened to ‘Goldilocks and the Three Bears’ or, before Ms. Sturgeon doest protest that it is too English, ‘Katie Morag’?’

In the meanwhile, the Shadow Home Secretary, Diane Abbott was interviewed by Nick Ferrari on LBC Radio about proposed Police funding for 10,000 extra Police Officers and proceeded to make a right royal pig’s ear of it.

She has this rather distracting habit of rolling her eyeballs towards the ceiling (or the sky if outdoors) contemplatively, before and intermittently while, answering questions.

Since this was radio, I can only imagine that she did her upward gaze but as there was nothing to contemplate, since she didn’t have the answer, she desperately plucked one from thin air, coming up with the ridiculous sum of £300,000, thereby rewarding our potential, hardworking Police Officers the grand annual sum of £30 a year.

Making another attempt at plucking from thin air, she then came up with £80 million. Once again, coming up with a slightly better, if still ridiculous, sum of £8,000 a year.

But that wasn’t the most shocking or hysterical part for me. I read this in a newspaper article (before listening to it online) which also proceeded to say that Jeremy Corbyn defended his former lover!

This made me do a Diane Abbott, my eyeballs, preceded by my eyebrows, shot upwards, but not contemplatively - I wouldn’t do that to my imagination.

Finally, while on a sad and reflective walk with a friend, this creature, for a brief second, brought some respite. Let me introduce you to the Robert de Niro of the bovine world!

"Are you lookin' at me?"

Until next time, try and keep it light.

       

              

BREXIT 2!!!!!

Yes, the United Kingdom has left the (EU) building. No one expected it; the Brexiters hoped for it and the Bremainers were cautiously optimistic that it wouldn't happen.There seemed to be a perception that bigots, nationalists and racists were the only ones that would be voting to leave. Well, one thing is clear - it wasn't only bigoted racists who opted out because we all know that 52% of the British public are far from being either bigoted or racist.  It's not to say that a percentage of those who voted out are not bigoted racists, I am sure a few are, but the rest came to a decision - whether it is the right decision or not, only time will tell. It is a democratic referendum and the people have voted and it is time, disappointed or not, to come to terms with it, in my humble opinion. Also, I did say before the vote, that Brexit may win if some people said that they were voting to remain but would secretly vote 'out'. And who can blame them if the perception was that they were either bigots, racists or xenophobes if they did so.

Like most people, I assumed that the UK would vote to remain and since the next day was a working day, I decided to have an early night. I was gobsmacked to hear the news in the morning. Once I (and my gob) recovered,  I naturally expected that those who voted to remain would be bitterly disappointed and those who voted out would extremely elated. Unexpectedly, and much to my surprise, I didn't see too much gloating from the Brexiters.  In fact, other than a certain politician ('toad-face' is my nickname for him; quite unkind I know - I choose the people I insult quite carefully) grinning like a Cheshire cat, I think most Brexiters  have been quite gracious in victory. On the other hand, I didn't expect tolerant, liberal people (most Bremainers would describe themselves as such) declaring that they were 'gutted', 'crushed', 'scared witless', ' doomed'  and most of all, I didn't expect young people to call the older generation 'selfish and short sighted', declaring that 'those wrinklies are going to die soon anyway'. Immediately, a petition was set up for another referendum.  Two and a half million people have signed it. It gives rise to so many 'what if' scenarios. What if the next referendum favours the 'out' campaign yet again. Are the Remainers going to demand yet another vote just to be on the safe side?Alternatively, if enough of the younger generation bother to turn up this time around and Bremain win the second referendum, does anyone seriously expect Brexiters to shrug their shoulders and walk away wearing 'whatever' tees shirts? Unlike some countries, we are lucky enough to live in a country where no vote rigging or corruption took place and due democratic process was observed.

In my earlier post 'Brexit!!' I hoped that the scaremongering would stop. No such luck. Brexit came out with that shameful 'immigrants' poster and Bremain weren't much better.The morning after the vote, while the nation was coming to terms with the result of the referendum, someone on Radio 4 commented that the Remainers had over egged the pudding. I couldn't agree more. Instead of calmly refuting and counter attacking the claims made by Brexit, Bremain threw in a few nuggets of their own, even threatening the older generation with their pensions. It probably incensed the 'wrinklies'  enough to thump their walking sticks in rebellion and vote the other way!  Unfortunately, the over egging continues even now. I do hope it stops because I don't want this nation be an example of a self fulfilling prophecy. I hope somehow, enough ingredients get put in the pudding to balance it out and make it edible. And someone please keep it away from Nicola Sturgeon and her giant Ostrich egg,which she obviously has no qualms about cracking and delightedly flinging into the pudding.

In the meanwhile, Juncker and his cronies in Brussels demanded that we 'GET OUT NOW'. Oops, force of habit I guess, someone forgot to tell them that they can't dictate terms to Britain any longer. With their bulging salaries, bulging pensions and bulging egos, they are understandably furious and possibly scared about their own jobs. However, Angela Merkel is being conciliatory and one can only hope her calm attitude rubs off on the rest, as we forge ahead into unknown territory.

BREXIT!!!!!!!!!!

BREXIT!!!!!! Really?????  Mind you this is not an opinion about whether we should stay or go. This is an opinion on the word ‘Brexit.’ From the land of Shakespeare, at an important time, with an important decision to make, instead of being generous with our words and starting up important debates like ‘to go or not to go that is the question’ or ‘to stay or not to stay that is the other question’, we lazily fuse words together and come up with ‘Brexit’. Something that sounds like a bran remedy for constipation!

 Now I have used the word ‘we’ but really, who actually came up with it first? There is no doubt that we certainly turned into sheep and jumped on the baaaaandwagon. I can’t remember the last time that I actually heard someone say, ‘Britain’s exit from the European Union’ or ‘Britain’s exit from the EU’ or indeed just ‘Britain’s exit’. Since I do not know who came up with the word, I have a theory – it was a ‘smart’ phone (probably one named after a fruit). I have always smiled at the irony of a ‘smart’ phone that has sent a completely different and idiotic message to the one I intended, using words that don’t make sense and making me look anything but ‘smart’. Actually, I lie. I don’t always smile – I sometimes shout or use a cross word (to put it politely). I have this scenario where a hack was on his fifth whiskey, missed some keys on his laptop while typing about the referendum and the word ‘Brexit’ jumped out and he thought (in an exaggerated British accent that you hear in American shows) “That will do, couldn’t be ar*** to change it”. And created an unattractive word that no one will thank him for. Please remember, I am indulging my imagination here.

A couple of Sundays back, I watched Boris Johnson being interviewed by Andrew Marr. He was his usual blustery self (which is why his hair is permanently tousled – all that blustery air blowing upwards). He was very enthusiastically informing us about the exciting opportunities we could have if we were Brexiters (or Brexiteers as I recently read in a newspaper – heaven help us all, it keeps getting more ridiculous). A picture of pure Utopian proportions was being painted. It was Brexit this and Brexit that and then to my complete and utter horror, just when I couldn’t think of a more irritating word, BJ came up with one – ‘Bremainers’! He was so taken with himself and his use of ‘Bremainers’ that he appeared to forget the adage ‘there is no such thing as bad publicity’ and used it repeatedly. Fortunately for me, I didn’t forget that the TV has an ‘off’ button.

Seriously, I am finding it difficult to make a decision. It would be easier if both sides didn’t dramatically exaggerate the consequences, behaving as if they have access to a huge crystal ball and predicting extreme doom and gloom if you voted for the opposite side. Will this island really sink from the sheer weight of migrants, as the Brexit camp will have us believe? (Yes I know that I have jumped on the baaaaaandwagon but it’s only a joyride, I will be jumping off in a minute.) Will we have an ending that is opposite to Cinderella’s - ‘from riches to rags’ as the Bremainers will have us believe? I don’t know - as I type this, I am shrugging my shoulders the way they do in films about the Mafia – just painting a picture in case (and I flatter myself here) someone is actually reading this.

The best thing I have read recently on this topic is the referendum prayer that the Church of England has sanctioned – ‘God of truth give us the grace to debate the issues in this referendum with honesty and openness.’ Are you listening, all you Brexiters and Bremainers? No more scaremongering, just honesty and openness. If that happens (and pigs might fly but please send them in the opposite direction of David Cameron), we might actually listen, and if you are really honest and open, we might actually come to an informed decision. The God of truth might then prevail and Britain might carry on being Great.