BTW we came a respectable fifth

It’s time for a short rant….. British politics has never been at a lower ebb or held in lower esteem than right now. Our blood sucking, lying, thieving, rule bending, tax avoiding, elected representatives have been caught with not only their hand in the cookie jar, but actually trying to carry the bloody thing away. How is it that normal working people cannot claim for their food and second homes because they work miles away from where they live at tax payers expenses? It’s all very well for the Politicians to say they were only following the rules (the classic Nuremburg defence), they are the people who made the rules. The whole system absolutely stinks.

To make matter worse, a few MPs have been suspended but not sacked. Us mere mortals who do not have the privilege of a job in Her Majesties government or opposition would now be looking at our P45’s and contemplating life in the dole queue if we had of done what they have. I once said that I think everyone should go and vote even if they do not support the political system in order to show appreciation to the people who gave their lives for our very right to do so. I am not so sure any more that any politician is worth voting for. They have sunk below estate agents and solicitors in the trust stakes. To my friends the Tiler and the Printer you have done absolutely the best thing in leaving these shores, the UK is sinking in a quagmire of sleaze and financial scandal started and finished by the very people elected to run our country.

Rant over….. best wishes to the Driver whose latest squeeze has become an item and they have set up home together, I wish the pair of you the very best of luck, God knows you deserve it mate! I Look forward to having a beer with the pair of you sooner rather than later and no I am not bitter that United won the Premier league again,Honest!! On yet another note a couple of people have queried the spelling of Ghastanbury. Sometime it is spelt with an H as in Ghastly and sometime the H is missing. This is down to the fact that some times the place is ghastly and sometimes the place is gastronomic. There is no correct spelling of Ghastanbury; it is more of a gut feeling than anything else. The second thing I would like to clear up is the date on some of the photographs. Whenever I take the battery out of the camera to recharge it, the date goes back to its original setting of 2003. I always forget to change it to its current setting until some one points it out to me.

A few weeks ago I decided that me and Bean Counter needed to become used to putting the tent up and sleeping in it. So one fateful evening I decided that we would sleep out in the grounds of Chateau Ghastanbury. I put the tent up although the plan was for BC to erect the damn thing; somehow she managed to avoid that one. As usual we had a beer or two and a meal cooked on the Barbie to get into the spirit of things before we bedded down for the night. At BC’s insistence I bought a pair of sleeping bags that could be zipped together as a double and a double sleeping bag liner. When we finally crawled into our hotel for the evening I fell straight asleep. BC woke up at around 5 five and went into the house to get some sleep in a real bed. I woke up at around 7pm due to the noise of two cats fighting in the garden. I could swear it was Genghis bit I will never be certain and I went to catch up on some sleep in the house.  It would appear that I snored and kicked all the time I was in the sleeping bag and in the process managed to turn 180 degrees so I was lying across BC’s belly. She was so uncomfortable she has solemnly sworn she will never share a sleeping bag with me again. Photos of the tent can found here, here and here.

On a much lighter note Sir Terry Wogan has stepped down from hosting the Eurovision song contest this year and his shoes have been filled by no lesser a person than Graham Norton. It’s a strange tradition that many Brits hold a party at Eurovision time. It is one of those events that is so bad it is actually good. We know we have no hope of winning the damn thing due to the block voting of the Eastern European nations and indeed it is the very reason that Sir Terry has stood down. However from the truly awful performance of Gemini one year receiving the humiliating accolade of being the only British entry to receive Nil Pouit the contest has become compulsive viewing for a large section of the British population at home and abroad. It is like a train crash that you have to watch. This year the Revellers held a soiree at their own Pied a Terre and invited me and BC along. They did everyone proud and everyone got into the swing of things with almost all turning up in costume of some sort to reflect the diversity of the event. BC went as a French Brothel Madame in stripy top and beret and I did my best as a sleazy Latvian pimp. Unfortunately my pencil moustache supplied by courtesy of eye liner pencil from Commander Rikers brothers’ wife, the lovely Paula, disappeared within seconds of my first drink and my wiping my top lip dry. It was a fantastic night and I can’t thank the Revellers enough for all the effort they put in and for making everyone feel welcome. I look forward to next year when it will probably be held at my place.

BTW we came a respectable fifth.


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