All posts in category: Politics

Maltese Termites are fed up with lockdown

October 3, 2020
Animals/Pets Fasion Health & Beauty Politics
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Why...

Did these wood-chomping insects decide to come out of hiding last week and treat my home as a smorgasbord? Recently I awoke to the sound of my wife cursing and yelling. As I was still in bed I wracked my brain if I had said or done anything offensive the night before. We had hosted a fairly drunken dinner party during which all I could recall was the dogs farted and the charming lady next to me hoovering up food and drink with abandon. Being brave I got up and went to where the wailing and gnashing of teeth came from. My wife was gesticulating at a wall that seemed to be crisscrossed with curved lines of what looked like pepper. She was frantically pulling picture frames off the wall. “They have eaten my ‘I will not talk during class’.”Sure enough a picture frame that housed the final page signed by her father of a punishment of several hundred lines handed out in 2nd grade, now looked like it was made from Swiss cheese. It was full of holes. In fact the entire back of the wooden frame had proved to be a canapé before the main course of this highly prized family heirloom. This troop of munchers seemingly overnight had devoured several picture frames and half a door frame. A feat of gluttony that was pretty impressive. “Honestly, will you look at that. These things are no respecter of Covid lockdown.....” This time I had to move quickly to avoid a slap.

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Next up Jane Bond or In-Diana Jones...

Why...

The fuss about gender change in the creative process? So Dr. Who is now a woman. Who-hoo! But the Doctor is not a human anyway? Time Lord, Time Lady... all a bit vague so I think it's a great idea, as did Dr. Who co-creator Sydney Neumann back in the 1980s who suggested it to the BBC (They rejected it)! But now there are calls for Jane Bond, Jolanda Bourne, even In-Diana Jones. No no no no no! These characters are as male as much as Lisabeth Salander (Dragon Tattoo) Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games) and Celie (Colour Purple) are female. The lunatic who thinks altering the author's original vision is their prerogative is at best wholly presumptive and at worst insulting to the creative process. As always the cries for these changes are emitted by mental pipsqueaks with all the creative talent of a mollusk. If they are so keen to see changes, go create something; don't stand at the sidelines picking at other people's work. I already blogged about the lunacy of PC titles for books (http://www.andanotherthing.com/when-did-you-last-read-the-dark-nag) but changing the sex, colour, nationality, religion or race of a lead literary character to suit the mood of the day is so short sighted as to make Mr. Magoo have the vision of an eagle. Creative work needs to be seen in the context of when it was written as well as the time it was written about. Should we remove slavery from Gone with the Wind or short people from Gulliver's Travels and Snow White? Does Mr. McGregor threatening to put Peter Rabbit in a pie upset the Vegans? In Jack and The Beanstalk, "Fee, fye, foo, fum I smell the aftershave on an Englishman" just does not cut if for me. I know… let's remake Guess who's coming to Dinner… yup, with a Transgender.

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You are paid too much

Why...

Have I gone all ‘Jeremy Corbin’ and ‘Bernie Sanders’ on pay? If you set up your own business, gambled everything, worked long hours and against all odds made a success, you deserve every penny; so long as you also appreciate those that helped you. Show me a self made gazillionaire and the quality of his character is not the amount of money he made himself, but the others he made rich along the way. What use he has put surplus cash to is also a good yardstick. Yes, a jet if you must, but not with solid gold loos. But endless spending on self self self shows a deeply insecure narcissist (I am referring to some Rap Artists, Reality Stars, Actors Actresses and the late Leonora Helmsley). CNN and WTBS founder Ted Turner maybe one of the largest landowners in the US and it’s most charismatic entrepreneur, but he gave US $ 1 billion to the UN. I cannot speak for Bill Gate’s business methods but he has at least put his proceeds of Microsoft to good use. What I am finding hard to swallow is the salaries for CEO’s and CFO’s for publicly quoted companies that run into tens of millions a year, even when failing to hit targets and with collapsing share prices. I am a filthy money loving scumbag and admit I like many fine and expensive things. If I have a successful year great. If not, gritted teeth. But had I still been in the corporate world working for an established company, is there not a salary level when you are just taking the piss? Although I expect a CEO to be compensated and also get a bonus tied to performance... surely there is a limit? Take David M. Zaslav - CEO Discovery Inc. Total compensation in 2018, $129.49 million. That seems a bit excessive or the two CEO’s at Oracle at around $108m with stock options. In fact Fortune and Forbes magazines reported recently that some of the highest paid CEO’s were running some of the poorest performing companies. How about Kent Thiry of dialysis chain Davila getting $32m with a negative return of 29% or Art Pack at Gap getting $20.8m when during his four years they had a negative return of 21%. What the hell are the remuneration and compensation committees doing... oh yes. Of course. They are mostly made up of equally overpaid overbearing overlords. I don’t wish to come across as Mary Poppins but this kind of remuneration in a public company comes across as just vulgar!

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Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Why...

I saw this the other day and wanted to share it. Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2020, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make the West great. Not to imply that any Western country is necessarily greater than any other country. And without regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee. By accepting these greetings you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for herself or himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.

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The Grand old Duke of York

Why...

Does arrogance always trump common sense? I rarely write about “moments du jour”, that is what editorial in journals and newspapers are for but... I have never watched anything so toe-curlingly embarrassingly thermonuclear-awful as Prince Andrew’s performance on his recent interview with the BBC. Forget about when Pat Nixon (wife of President Nixon and accused of taking bribes) cried on TV that she never had a fur coat, only a good Republican tweed one, or Jimmy Swaggart blubbing from the pulpit begging forgiveness and swearing he is off hookers and cocaine for life...until the following week. It made Sarah Palin’s comment that she knows about Russia coz she can see it from Alaska look positively electrifyingly brilliant. Prince Andrew’s performance was a televisual feast of what not to do. No sympathy for victims, laughable excuses for staying in Epstein’s house for five days, just to tell him their friendship is over, that our hero can’t sweat from a condition from being shot at in the Falklands War, he never noticed girls running about any of Epstein’s houses because he never notices staff. The problem is he is just so honourable! Andrew has managed to take what was a bubbling under story into being front page news for five days worldwide. 6% of viewers believed him! He has lost a ton of sponsors to his charities, asked to not be Patron anymore to others and as I write agreed to step back from Public Life for the time being. Furthermore, he has pushed the FBI closer to feeling his collar, all because his self belief rode roughshod over other people’s advice. His actual defence is his arrogance and self belief mixed with a confidence he can wing an interview against a real pro. Prince Andrew is his own perfect storm. An IQ rating the same number as his shoe size but thinks he is the smartest man in the room All the on screen charm of a traffic warden with halitosis and as pompous as a Maitre D in an overpriced restaurant Non-existent sympathy for Epstein’s real victims. Indeed he is trying to make himself the victim! I suspect when Prince Charles eventually takes over, a ten year posting to Tristan de Cunha (a remote British atoll in the South Atlantic) will be next on Andrew’s CV.

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Where there’s a will, there’s a... relative

November 8, 2019
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Politics Sex Uncategorised
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Why...

Did God invent money? To keep you in touch with your children.

It’s a sad truth that money trumps politics, religion or sexual orientation as the biggest buster-upper of families.

Here I stick my hand up and admit in my own family if mention is made of wills and inheritance it’s like nails down a blackboard.

Before we get personal, let me start with the tax logic... or utter lack of it. If you’ve had your nose to the grindstone, worked hard and paid your taxes, why do you get taxed again gifting it to whomever you please. Now I know in the UK there is a daft provision that if you live for seven years after the bequeath then what you bequeath is tax free. But why? What cockamamie logic is that?

When you are on the last lap of the race of life and you need money to look after yourself and lessen the burden to others... sorry, you must give it all away to lessen the inheritance tax bill. Either you live in poverty in your last years or rely on those you gave your money too will look after you. Either has the potential for disaster.

Next. The taxman's beady little eyes are more shortsighted than a mole. They value an Estate at time of death, not at the grant of probate. Mad. Let me give a simple example. Let’s say you sadly popped your clogs before the crash of 2007 when stocks were high but your wife who achieves probate afterwards when stocks were often more than halved; she would find there was very little left after the taxman had his Jaws like bite.

Then there is probate itself. Legal constipation at its finest. Even simple probate takes a year and more complex ones taking up to five times that.

Once you have got through all this... the legal challenge. A minefield and the explosive device upon which many a family have trodden and blown themselves to smithereens.

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How you treat your servants will predict how long you will live

Why...

Do we treat those who help us with such disdain? History tells us what happens. All empires fade away... usually about the time the home help gets pissed off. Take Ancient Rome. There are only so many orgies you can clean up after, a limited number of vomitorium’s you can sluice out, before even a slave decides “screw this for a game of coco, I’ve had enough”. Their debauched and jowly bosses were so far removed from the granite hard soldiers who founded Rome that sure enough, before you could say Barbarians at the gate... it all came tumbling down. And not one slave or servant shed a tear. It is in fact a little scary to note that the sudden rise in the transgender ‘population’ almost exactly coincided with the collapse of Rome, but that will be another blog.

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If you are going to sing the National Anthem at an event, the faster the better

Why...

Do people insist on singing National Anthems at major events at full vibrato and wringing out every note for eternity? I understand the recently deceased Aretha Franklin set the bar in the USA at a staggering 4 minutes 55 seconds at a football game on Thanksgiving 2016. That’s longer than it took a surgeon in the 1550’s in Malta to whip out a kidney stone AND amputate a leg! The normal time for the US ditty is one minute 40 seconds. I mean, I’m all for putting your hand over your heart and showing some national pride but 5 minutes before you get to ‘From sea to shining sea…’!? In winter?

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When I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you

Why...

Are we surprised at the contempt in which politicians hold the voter? There was a comment the other day on the radio from a frustrated Brit who mewed: “If my vote really meant anything they would take it away.” The honest answer is, no need... it’s simply ignored.

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Say what you like about Trump... at least he understands deals need to close

Why...

Has the great European jaw-jaw resulted in a draw-draw? When the history of Brexit is eventually written, no matter on which side of the great divide you stand, the sheer lack of understanding by politicians as to what a clock is, will stand as a supreme lesson. I cannot think of a peace treaty let alone a deal negotiation which has taken two years... and that does not look like it’s long enough! At the time of writing this blog, it seems like the negotiation is going into extra time to prevent everyone throwing their toys out of the pram. Yet, so far this chit-chat (note: with our friends and allies) has cost the British taxpayer on expenses, travel and outside consultation fees around £600m. Nearly a billion dollars and it’s got nowhere. That is in itself such a monumental achievement I have to pinch myself whilst re-reading my own text. To paraphrase dear Winston, “Never in the field of human negotiation has so much time been wasted at so much cost by so few to the utter bewilderment of so many...” Like him or not I suspect the UK might have saved a fortune by asking perma-tanned occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to thrash out a deal for a fee of say £100m, with a £100m bonus if he could wrap it all up in the time it takes the English cricket team to play a test series. Sadly, La Donald had just got another job when this all started so we might have needed another slippery deal maker. Anyone know what happened to the other Donald, Don King?

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I am sorry, if you want to be in a ‘cowboy outfit’, please come dressed as an incompetent and dishonest plumber

Why...

Can’t I dress up without a dressing down? I understand the Student Union in Edinburgh have come out with a long list of what is no longer acceptable to wear at fancy dress. Students have been warned that costumes “based on racial or cultural stereotypes” are banned including those portraying Native Americans, Arabs, Nazis, a woman in a Burka, Buddha, a Mullah or a Catholic Priest, (although for some strange reason a nun is OK). They have now added the ‘Cowboy Outfit’! Whoever is President of the Student Union needs to donate his or her body to medical research so we can try and find out how God managed to remove the humour chromosome. This is the thinking that got rid of Kleenex Man Size tissues and will no doubt tell us ‘the time of the month’ is now when females wo-menstruate. Students are meant to be stroppy, rowdy and obsessed with big hopeless causes; saving the polar bear, stopping melting ice caps, ending world poverty or getting Simon Cowell to quit Botox and white T-shirts. They tilt like Don Quixote at these windmills of impossible dreams until the real post graduate world bites. Your bolshy economics student grows up when he has to go spend their cash on white goods (washing machine, fridge, freezer) rather than a few tabs of E. But fancy dress! Is that a needy focus of undergraduate ire?

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I spy with my little eye... well anything I want if I’m a Russian

Why...

Do we all act surprised and indignant that our Russian friends have been peeking into our electronic in-tray. It was ever thus. Ever since Neolithic man discovered he could use an empty coconut shell as an eavesdropping devise and hear his neighbors in the next cave having sex with a Mammoth, we have all been snooping on one another. Let’s face it. Most of what those Russkies tap into is either boring or irrelevant. And if they could actually influence an American election with a couple of tweets as opposed to the $1 billion Hillary and Donald used to batter the electorate into submission, campaign managers and spin doctors should all be made redundant. For the West it’s perfectly OK for 007 to surreptitiously bump off a double agent or photograph the head of the secret police in bed with a nun to blackmail him, but it’s completely outrageous if Putin’s Dzhemys Bondski gets one over on us. If there is one heartening thing to come out of all this, is that the GRU (formerly KGB) aren’t very good. Assassinations go awry, and if the rumours of Trump Golden Rain on Obama’s bed are true, so what? Trump seems unblackmailable! The GRU launched a spy ring of young girls in the 2000’s working at MIT who were so unutterably incompetent that the FBI didn’t bother to arrest them. Tatiana and Lyudmilla (cover names Tiffany and Chablis) even put sticky notes on their computers with their passwords as remembering them as well as the names of the best nightclubs in town was too much for the vodka addled brains.

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I say, anyone for tennis?

July 7, 2018
Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Politics Sport Technology
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Why...

Have some events managed to stay essentially the same in character whilst others have changed beyond recognition? Wimbledon is in many ways gloriously anachronistic and has stayed resolutely the same since 1877. My late father was on the board and I was immensely lucky to have watched every men’s final from 1969 until his death in 2004. Yes the event is old fashioned but still managed to sneak in the odd dollop of progress. It took till mid 60s before the All English Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club, to give it its official name, allowed professionals to compete. In the 1970s skirts went high and in the 1980s rackets just went high tech. In the 1990s Wimbledon led the way in taking a little pressure out of the balls to stop short serve and volley rallies that threatened to ruin the game... but those two weeks in July are still rooted in Agatha Christie’s England. Pimms Number 1 cup to drink, smoked salmon sandwiches, strawberries & cream to eat, and a fearsome dress code. All men must wear jackets and ties in the members enclosure, trousers are frowned on for women and no one raises their voice (John Mcenroe in his prime, the exception that proved the rule). Even now the men’s and ladies champion pair up at the opening dance at the Gala finale ball. You almost expect to see Maggie Smith as Dowager Lady Grantham complete with lorgnette inspecting the crowds to make sure no riff-raff have gained entry. And yet Wimbledon has survived, even thrived. Unique in the tennis world as a Grand Slam on grass yet with the atmosphere of a smart village fete. It’s not the quaint atmosphere that puzzles me, but why no one else has tried to copy it.

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Do you wanna be in my gang?

June 22, 2018
Finance/Law Food & Drink Life Politics Sex Technology
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Why...

Do we seek solace mixing with people who on joining a group or club revert to stereotype? “I never want to be a member of a club which would let me in,” may be a classic Groucho Marx line and a cliché but for good reason... It’s true. I have been very lucky to have been invited as a guest to several clubs and they break down into the following seven categories. Back to school There are a handful of Gentlemen’s Clubs in London holding a male only policy. They are all in Pall Mall and St. James and distinctly different to other Gentleman's clubs that can only operate by having scantily club members of the opposite sex. The London Gentleman’s club is really just public school (private school in the US) for boys who never grew up and miss nanny. The place runs on old fashioned rules. The Nanny organises the social desk and membership fees but that’s the only woman you will see. You better turn up in a tie, shoes polished, nails clipped and hair brushed. Yes, you can drink, but do not get rowdy. Most of the food is what I call nursery menu. A perfect lunch would be: Windsor soup, Steak and Kidney Pudding, Jam Roly-Poly, & Welsh Rarebit. Conversation through the meal with other members sharing your refectory style table equally as stodgy and bland. This is followed with a port and a snooze reading yesterday’s The Times. These throw-back establishments work on handed down privilege, who you know and how you behave. I am sorry to delude new members who have fought their way up in society through hard work and brains to join but… Old Biffo and Squiffy in the corner still look down on you as nouveau riche; the same way they dismissed Johnny Foreigner as a new boy at Rugby or that boy with the flash watch as parents “working in trade”. Back to Basics Health clubs. No frills. Over sophisticated gym equipment and eye wateringly expensive juices, drinks and rabbit food. Staff preachy and superior with bodies buffed to within an inch of their lives. Off peak these caverns of sweat are filled with the bored and rich. These poor souls have nothing else to do except cheat on their partner and sneak off for plastic surgery to show the results of all the dieting and training they pretend to follow. Peak time it’s just an overcrowded dating agency. Back to the Future The Lovie playroom. Media based haunts are filled with overloud voices recalling their last meeting with Brad and Angelina, how genuine the Spielberg’s are and what a shame about Amy’s drug abuse. Always in slightly seedy parts of town set up by failed media wannabes who see this as their entree into the glitterati. The propeller head equivalent of techy clubs are full of earnest members trying to convince you to invest in some crypto crapto currency or hint they might get you into an angel start up fund with guaranteed returns. “So, you’ve invested yourself,” is a sure-fire way of getting rid of them... and leaving you with absolutely no one to talk to. Pointless. Back to the Wall The exclusive nightclub. Exclusive because there are only so many people willing to spend £10k a year for membership to an overcrowded noisy hell-hole that charges prices that are an insult and a door policy that admits only good-looking people with an IQ quota the same as their shoe size. To make it worse should you be insecure enough to have to order a five litre bottle of vodka or a jeroboam of champagne for £1,000, the staff bring attention to your vulgarity by having sparklers light up the bottles as they bring them to you and alert everyone else in the place who is tonight’s soft touch. If you have to go to one for a night of drug fueled fun, you never want them to have your real name anyway. Always make sure someone else is the member. Back in the saddle The Horsey Club. Filled with overweight florid faced men and woman who bray when they laugh. If you ask for the bridal suite it’s a large room full of saddles, riding crops and Gucci buckles and the last place you’d want to spend your honeymoon. If you can separate the bullshit from real horse manure you might get a good tip on a horse. The Back Nine What can I say about a golf club except I don’t want to join one. Ever. It’s a chance for you to dress up like an extra from a Blaxploitation movie, though ethnic minority representation still remains low. Members may slice their tee shots to the left or right, but politics is invariably to the right. I speak with some experience here when in Myrtle Beach a club member made the mistake of asking me my opinion on abortion. “The obvious answer is it is not really a man’s decision; though if it were men who got pregnant, I suspect termination would be so easy it would come from an ATM machine. “No religion recognises a miscarriage or the trauma that causes. So, until they do they cannot go on about the rights of a foetus.” He pulled a gun on me and called security to eject the “limey liberal pinko”! Back Inside There is a great line in the TV series set in a woman’s prison Orange is the New Black with a character greeting a new inmate saying… “Welcome to the 1950s”. The speaker is not referring to the building or facilities. But to the clubs. The Narco Mexicans stick to one group, The Neo-Nazis another, right down to the Nepalese Horse thieves or Belgian child molesters. Everyone has a group. It’s basic. It’s for protection. So, on that note console yourself that Bernie Madoff is not the wife of some 6’6” ex Cripps member but closely closeted with some other fraudster both cheating at monopoly but a least paying protection money to keep their balls.

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The Village Idiot has gone global

May 25, 2018
Entertainment/Media/Arts Life Politics Technology
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Why...

Are complete idiots so keen to show the rest of us how stupid they are and why do we lap it up? Now this is not me having a rant and sour grapes. I happily peddle this blog for mainly selfish reasons… I simply enjoy doing it. But honestly who would have believed that a format that is literary in nature would see as the pinnacle of success the scribblings a bunch of self-obsessed wannabees. Originally the internet gave us a lovely set of rose tinted spectacles and we were encouraged to believe the ether would be filled with undiscovered literary titans. China no doubt would produce a dozen Mark Twains, (his little-known book Running for Governor was actually taught to every Chinese kid in school). Instead we got Fang Junping, who is an overnight blogging sensation there… as he explains cosmetics to a population that a few decades ago all wore the same uniform and the only bestseller was Mao’s little red book!

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Lost & Found… but we keep it anyway

Why...

Is getting back stuff you have lost so difficult? Yes, I understand that my i-Phone and i-Pad should be attached to my wrists with a piece of string, just like a toddler’s gloves. I do have a tendency to lose things… A LOT. However, recently I left my i-Pad on a Turkish Airline flight that had to connect via Ataturk (Istanbul) Airport. I left the i-Pad on the plane that landed in Ataturk from Malta and noticed it missing on the plane to Sofia, my final destination. So far, so stupid. Rang the airline. Hooray they have found it. To confirm it was mine they asked for the access code to turn it on. I gave it to them. “When are you coming to collect it from Lost and Found?” I replied I was not coming back though Ataturk so could I send a courier to collect. “No. Lost and Found is airside (i.e. after customs/immigration control) so you have to collect yourself.” Having a Lost and Found at an airport that you can only physically pick up yourself if travelling is as logical as a chocolate tea-pot. In addition, my insurance company declined to pay out a loss as the item was in fact recovered. Now if I was a cynical chap, I might think this is part of a cunning plan. You lose an item on a plane, you hand over the access code to show it is yours, they know you are unlikely to collect and before you can say Ebay, it’s for sale… but that would be a terrible thing to suggest…….

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And then they insisted Putin issue a public apology...

Why...

Does everyone think diplomacy is like laundry... to be aired in public? The easiest way to get people to change their minds (excluding attaching parts of their anatomy to a car battery) is not to make it look like they changed it in the first place. Now I am no apologist for some of Russia’s excesses but we equally overstep the mark in what we release in public. There is no public evidence of Russia meddling in the US elections at the request of the Kremlin. I am sure a battalion of James Bonds and Jason Bournes have secret evidence... but isn’t that the point? In public you give Johnnie Foreigner the benefit of the doubt but you stick incontrovertible proof under his nose in private. Yet you still give him a way out publicly as you haven’t painted him into a corner. Note that our Kremlin buddies have been unusually quiet about the Golden Shower allegations swirling around President Trump... the only reason I give the sordid claims any credence!

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And they all lived happily ever after

Why...

Do we think that nations with opposite views will eventually all become lovey dovey? The fact that North and South Korea are competing in the snowman building competition at the Olympics or that the British and our continental friends like a sing-song event called the Eurovision Song Contest does not mean for one moment all is platonic. The UK has had a very jaundiced view about foreigners ever since 10,000 BC, when the British Isles uncoupled itself from France due to tectonic shifts and became an island fortress. “If God had wanted us to be European, we would not take baths but showers nor eat food that has gone off and whose rotten taste is covered up in fancy sauces,” say many limeys. However despite this feeling of self righteous ‘differentness’, every high street in the UK looks the same as they are all franchises from multi-national brands, whereas in most of rural Europe individuality at retail level rules supreme. Go figure. The rift between North and South Korea is but a blink of an eye in the history of our times but looks to run as long as the all time Box Office Champ of dispute between the Jews and other Arab nations.

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Give up something nearly impossible for Lent

Why...

For a bunch of people who are normally about as religious as Loony Tune characters, do my friends go all peculiar at this time of the year? Some wish they could still cavort and writhe about on a float in Rio, whilst others long to don mysterious masks and wander about in Venice like the kid in the red coat from the movie Don’t Look Now. However putting aside the differences in choice of Carnival they want to romp about in, most go all ‘holier than thou’ by announcing they are giving something up for Lent’s long forty days and forty nights.

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W.H.O. are you, ♫ whooooo-hoo, ♫who-who?

Why...

Not add suggestions to compliment the W.H.O award to Robert Mugabe as Goodwill Ambassador? Nobel Peace Prize: Kim Jung Il Comeback of the Year: OJ Simpson Humanitarian of the Year: Harvey Weinstein Good Housekeeping of the Year: FIFA Conde Nast Holiday Destination of the Year: Barcelona Spain Catalonia, Europe Most in Demand After Dinner Speaker of the Year: Bill Cosby Airline of the year: Ryan Air Most Anticipated Invitation of the Year: President Trump to Buckingham Palace Crime Reformer of the Year: President Duterte of The Philippines Toy of the Year: The Cowboy Outfit formerly known as a Goldman Sachs Diplomat of the Year Award: Dennis Rodman Employment and Career Advisor of the Year: Anthony Scaramucci

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All posts in category: Politics

Maltese Termites are fed up with lockdown

Why...

Next up Jane Bond or In-Diana Jones...

Why...

You are paid too much

Why...

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Why...

The Grand old Duke of York

Why...

Where there’s a will, there’s a... relative

Why...

How you treat your servants will predict how long you will live

Why...

If you are going to sing the National Anthem at an event, the faster the better

Why...

When I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you

Why...

Say what you like about Trump... at least he understands deals need to close

Why...

I am sorry, if you want to be in a ‘cowboy outfit’, please come dressed as an incompetent and dishonest plumber

Why...

I spy with my little eye... well anything I want if I’m a Russian

Why...

I say, anyone for tennis?

Why...

Do you wanna be in my gang?

Why...

The Village Idiot has gone global

Why...

Lost & Found… but we keep it anyway

Why...

And then they insisted Putin issue a public apology...

Why...

And they all lived happily ever after

Why...

Give up something nearly impossible for Lent

Why...

W.H.O. are you, ♫ whooooo-hoo, ♫who-who?

Why...