Balls bawled a mix of abuse and socialism/July 19th 2010.

Quentin - I returned from a glorious two week cruise round the med with Mrs Bob No 3 bronzed and re-puckered to find our village in a dreadful state. Coke cans bobbing in the duck pond, fag butts filling the gutters and our hallowed green littered with fish n chip paper. So, in a post-holiday flush of national pride, I decided to invoke the PM's Big Society to clear up the mess. I went to BnQ and spent thirty quid on refuse bags and gloves and merrily knocked on my neighbours' doors for willing hands. Quenty - the response wasn't good. Twenty five per cent of inhabitants said they were too busy & another twenty five per cent groaned and said they were incapacitated. The other fifty per cent laughed in my face and said they paid enough tax, suggesting dozy Cameron come round and clean it up himself! So, thoroughly disheartened with the Big Society, I dumped the bags and gloves in the nearest skip and retired to the snug for a snifter or three! Mad in Sham n Cleggy's not-so-big uk innit! (Richie is away)