Bernie, Boris, Button and a big burn-up round Big Ben/June 28th 2012.

Richie - My precocious 12 year old grandson Bob Roberts jnr has been visiting and this morning his head was firmly stuck in a history book as he swotted up on our corrupt financial system for a school essay. "I mean, it's clear where the blame lies" young Bob said. "It's all the fault of the odious Thatcher and her loony 1980s Right Wing governments who de-regulated the banks." Well, needless to say Rich, I tried to explain that it was more complex than that and was the also the fault of Gordon McBroon and Baby Eater Bob Crow. But he wasn't buying it and also blamed the Tories for making a pact with the Murdoch devil. "I know! Why don't we see what Bwitain's Bestest Columnist has to say about the banking scandal ?" I said. Well, imagine our disappointment, Lord Richie, when we opened the DM to discover you'd written a primary school skit about F1 coming to London. "You see grandad ? The lot of 'em haven't got a clue!" said Bob jnr and skipped off to attend his Mandarin lesson. The feral yoof of today, eh Rich ?

A Taliban fighter claiming asylum in Britain? This is a Wolverhampton wanderer we'd be better off without/June 26th 2012.

Richie - I was oop north last week visiting my good friend Trades Unionist Dave Salt. Poor old Dave - like Wob no spring chicken - has been run off his feet these past few months as ordinary hard working folk flock to join his union in response to the lunatic Tory-led Coagulation govt's programme of mass poverty and unemployment. While we were sipping our ale in the snug of the Flat Cap & Ferret a Bolshie northerner, overhearing our chat, compared this great nation of ours to North Korea. Well, I was outraged Lord Richie, and told the critter he was talking out of his hooter! But driving home I began to consider the idea. And by gum, Rich, there's something in it! I mean, we're ruled and spied upon by a paranoid elite; a large proportion of the population survives on welfare handouts; we're fed lies and propaganda by a corrupt news media; and our slavish devotion to our head of state borders on hysteria! Break from the EU and the comparison will be complete! Beam me up comrade I say!

It always ends in penalties, it always ends in tears. RICHARD LITTLEJOHN says he can take the despair. It's the hope he can't stand.../June 25th 2012.

Richie - 19.00 hours in our local: Old Wob dressed in full England kit and sporting his best Bobby Charlton comb-over walks into the snug to be greeted by a huge cheer as the packed bar waits for kick off in heady anticipation. Arthur Groat is playing "Three Lions" on the spoons, resident GP Dr Singh - much derided this past week for his £1m pension pot - is buying everyone a drink, and local burlesque queen Marcia Braithwaite, wearing skimpy Union Jack bra and bloomers, is giving us all a good-humoured peek of her ample assets! Mrs Bob No 3 has laid on a spicy Thai finger buffet and a brand new 70 inch Sony 3D laser-guided telly has been installed for the occasion. Footy's Comin' home! What can possibly go wrong ? Cut to: 22.00 hours. The red, white and blue balloons have shrivelled. Arthur is sitting alone in a corner drinking himself into a stupor. Old Wob's comb-over is limp and lifeless. Dr Singh is in tears. Marcia has been taken to A & E after fainting when Italy scored their winner. We all trudge home in the drizzling rain. A great English summer tradition is over for another 2 years!

The troops being betrayed by the real enemy within/June 19th 2012.

Richie - Here in the Worcestershire village of Cum-to-Piddle we're preparing for the doctors strike by stocking up on essentials and opening a holistic drop-in centre for sickly residents. Needless to say my dear Thai wife Mrs Bob No 3 is at the forefront of this service and she's been busy brewing up a cauldron of her famous locust, bamboo worm pupae, and papaya ointment which is a fine antidote to most ailments. In fact Dr Singh, our local GP, has already benefitted from this mysterious south east asian goo. Shunned by locals outraged at his million pound a year pension pot, he arrived at his surgery to find graffiti scrawled on the door claiming "Pedos not wanted here" (a sad indictment of our semi literate society, Rich - Dr Singh originally trained as a paediatrician). Looking drawn and miserable Dr Singh was given a jar of Mrs Bob's cream and told to rub some on to his crown to help ward off depression. Instead he smeared it over his front door, removed the graffiti and saved himself a pretty penny in paint stripper! Well done Mrs Bob I say!

Trust me, you can't trust this lot with any more powers/June 15th 2012.

Richie - Last night we here in the Worcestershire village of Cum-to-Piddle were alerted that a snooper was on the prowl! The vile creature had been seen ferreting away in private dustbins and peeking through honest folks' windows in a gross intrusion of their privacy! Needless to say, Rich, Old Wob donned his safety goggles and rolled up his copy of the DM for protection and joined the local Neighbourhood Watch squad to hunt the critter down! We nabbed him sniffing around a discarded pair of Marcia Braithwaite's smalls. "Are you a public-sector jobsworth sent by the unelected Coagulation government to interfere in the lives of hard working taxpayers ?" we asked. The poor chap quivered and said no, he was merely a journalist for a major news organisation seeking material for tomorrow's front page. Well, Rich, how we laughed! What a misunderstanding! we said and took him to the snug for a merry evening of red-blooded banter about the bloated public sector and La Lopez's lush derriere!

Bulldozer ballet, a sex-mad smurf- it's Uncle Rich's Olympic jamboree/June 14th 2012.

Richie - Would you Adam & Eve it! I'd just finished my nutribran, green tea and russet breakfast concoction and settled in my comfy chair for a well deserved after-brekkie snooze when my dear Thai wife Mrs Bob No 3 hurried into the living room holding today's copy of the DM. "Lord Wichie exercise his big column on Thursday!" she said. I couldn't believe my ears! "Bwitain's Bestest Columnist writing a column on Thursday ? Don't be silly, Mrs Bob! Lord Richie writes his column on Tuesday and Friday. The other days are reserved for lessen known windbags such as Mellie, McKenzie, Heffer and Glover." But Mrs Bob wasn't having it. "Look!" she said, thrusting the newspaper under my nose. "He write fanny thing about Olympics!" Well, imagine my surprise when I saw your unmistakable prose lighting up the page like a sodden banger on Bonfire Night. "Now you must write fanny post too, else Lefty trolls world over will be sad." I considered it, Rich, I really did, but instead tugged on my recliner and fell soundly asleep.

It's raining, it's pouring, that'll be the global warming.../June 12th 2012.

Richie - Unelected Shameron's army of Nannies have been pestering good honest folk around these parts. First, Middle Class Moira the community fat-watch officer burst into the snug just before the England match with her fresh-faced 5-a-day co-ordinators to admonish us regulars over the size of our corsages and promote healthy eating and exercise. Needless to say Moira was well and truly ridiculed. She eventually called it a day when Arthur Groat let rip as he followed her stretching routine and she scarpered for fresh air pronto! But that wasn't the end of it! Yesterday local schoolchildren, including my grandson Bob Roberts jnr, were forced to listen to one of plummy-mouthed Gove's education ministers map out the latest useless scheme to educate our kids, including learning poetry by rote! Well, young Bob promptly got up and recited the Red Flag, the Internationale and John Cooper Clarke's wonderful "Chickentown". Note to Gove: Stick that in your Tory pipe and smoke it I say (Hic!)

Kiss me goodnight, prison warder.../June 8th 2012.

Richie - How right you are to have a hissy fit about diversity targets and effnik wimmin being given jobs! It's an outrage I say! Next thing you know there'll be effnik footy players and effnik doctors and effnik businessmen and wimmin and effnik this and effnik that...Whatever happened to that glorious effnik-free Bwitain we all used to love and cherish, eh Rich ? A place of milk and honey and coppers who'd give you a firm but gentle remonstration round the ear ole if they caught you dogging in a layby ? A glorious empire where effniks knew their place and bowed and curtsied like there was no tomorrow and where murderers were hanged by their scrawny necks, not locked up in a cushy prision to oggle at lush looking effnik wardens! And don't get me started about our dear royal family who were forced - nay, compelled - by the wishy-washy Labour loving liberal elite to clap and sing heartily to effnik singers at the jubilee concert! It's an outrage I say Lord Richie! An outrage! (Hic!)

Welcome to the Buck House of Fun/June 4th 2012.

Richie - Our village enjoyed a right old royal knees-up to celebrate Her Madge's diamond jubilee, the festivities culminating in a wet union jack t-shirt competition won by the heartily endowed Marcia Braithwaite who emerged Venus-like from the duck pond! But I must say the highlight was watching a re-run of the Marxist, Communist, Pol-Pottist, BBC's excellent jubilee coverage! What genius to have Anneka Rice and Fern Cotton involved in the proceedings! And good old Claire Balding played a blinder navigating all those butch olympic rowers during the boat jamboree! (Ooh er, missus I say!) But let us all thank the good lord Auntie Beeb didn't invite any Daily Mail Right-Wing Windbags to cast a shadow over the wonderful occasion! Can you imagine arch-miserabilists like Mad Mel, Fruity McKenzie, Cruella-de-Jan Moir or yourself, Lord Richie, sitting on the jubilee sofa moaning about all and sundry ? "It's all Gordon Brown's fault blah blah blah..." "Bob Crow is responsible for the rain blah blah blah..." "Labour MP's eat babies blah blah blah..." Three cheers for Her Royal Madgeness I say! Hic Hic! Hooway!

The barmy elf 'n' safety fears which stopped disadvantaged inner city kids from paddling in the sea/June 1st 2012.

Richie - Old Wob and my dear Thai wife Mrs Bob No 3 have been busy organising the village jubilee party! And what a splendid knees up it promises to be! As well as a long table groaning beneath the weight of jubilee nosh stretching from the duck pond to the snug, we've secured a programme of entertainment representative of Bwitain's diverse heritage! Dr Singh will be performing with his bangra all-stars after which Marcia Braithwaite's burlesque belles have promised to tittilate us all with a saucy jubilee routine! Arthur groat will be performing his legendary spoon routine and Mrs Bob's troupe of Lady Boys have been flown in especially for the weekend. Even the local NF/EDL coven are doing their bit with a funny walk march and rendition of Deutchland Uber Alles! The highlight of the day will be the Jeremy Hunt Brown Nose competition in which competitors have to brown-nose a Right Wing Windbag! What a pity you can't join us Lord Richie - you'd be a dead cert to take first prize I say!

Step away from the paddling pool... you're nicked!/May 29th 2012.

Richie - Would you Adam and Eve it! Old Wob was in the garden enjoying the weekend weather when I got into a heated debate with the moaning Tory minnies next door as I filled up the paddling pool for my precocious 11 year old grandson Bob jnr. Needless to say I thought they'd taken umbridge over my pert lime speedos but instead they berated me for wasting water during a hose pipe ban. Little did they know that I'd filled the pool with bottled Evian water but no matter, I gave the interfering busy-bodies a piece of mind. Later, when the dust had settled, Bob jnr, whose ambition is to become Labour PM, began to question the monopoly of the water companies in much the same way that you have done in today's column. Young Bob's analysis went far deeper than your lazy effort though as he blamed the vile Thatcher governments of the 80s and their policy of flogging off Britain's assets to greedy foreign types for a song. Well done Young Bob Roberts for pointing out that important fact I say!