Whatever the BBC say, Britain is still mainly white, Christian and straight/September 30th 2011.
Richie - Yesterday Old Wob mounted an undercover operation to gatecrash the Tory conference posing as a blue rinse lady of independent means. I slipped into one of Mrs Bob's best frocks, added a blonde wig, fishnets and heels, and infiltrated the local Tory coven making its way by coach to Manchester. And what a swell journey it was Rich! The champers flowed and Lady Mimsy Breakwater brought along a couple of Harrods hampers to lighten the journey. We sang all the favourite Tory songs, including "Shoot the Poor", "All Lefties Are Gay" and "We Are The Nasty Party" and much of the conversation yearned for a bygone England in which serfs were whipped to church on Sunday and crowds gathered at Tyburn to cheer public hangings and floggings. The only blemish was when the chair of the Young Tories got amorous on the back seat and burst one of my falsies. Thankfully there were plenty of I Love Maggie balloons floating about whereupon I stuffed two down my frontage and no one was any the wiser!
Friday
Thursday
These terrorists should all be wearing orange jumpsuits, not jumping on a red London bus/September 27th 2011.
Richie - Greetings from Liverpool! Old Wob and my best mate union activist Dave Salt hot-footed it from the People's Republic of Dale Farm to the Labour conference just in time for Mister Ed's speech. And what a fine red-blooded speech it was! Putting the boot in to Southern Cross and the troughing bankers, giving it with both barrels to Fred the Shred and dopey Shameron - what a pity he didn't call for the odious Thatcher and her vile 80s cabinet to be prosecuted for crimes against the British people! However I was shocked when a group of young Tories who had sneaked in through a side door booed our illustrious former PM Blair! Needless to say Rich I went in search of the critters with a rolled up copy of the DM in order to teach em some respect! The day's only other blemish was at the after-speech knees up when I flirted with one of the sisters. In the spirit of comradely friendship I declared my admiration for her well-endowed fun bags and had to flee in fear for my manhood pronto!
Richie - Greetings from Liverpool! Old Wob and my best mate union activist Dave Salt hot-footed it from the People's Republic of Dale Farm to the Labour conference just in time for Mister Ed's speech. And what a fine red-blooded speech it was! Putting the boot in to Southern Cross and the troughing bankers, giving it with both barrels to Fred the Shred and dopey Shameron - what a pity he didn't call for the odious Thatcher and her vile 80s cabinet to be prosecuted for crimes against the British people! However I was shocked when a group of young Tories who had sneaked in through a side door booed our illustrious former PM Blair! Needless to say Rich I went in search of the critters with a rolled up copy of the DM in order to teach em some respect! The day's only other blemish was at the after-speech knees up when I flirted with one of the sisters. In the spirit of comradely friendship I declared my admiration for her well-endowed fun bags and had to flee in fear for my manhood pronto!
Friday
Beware of the Cornish Mutant Ninja Tortoises!/September 23rd 2011.
Richie - I must say we sat in the snug this afternoon agog - nay, entranced - by your most excellent column. Who would have thought that today, when Mahmood Abbas stood before the UN to make his impassioned and historical plea for Palestinian statehood, that Lord Richie Littlewon, Britain's Bestest Columnist, would produce such a literary masterwork! To symbolically equate the struggle of the PLO with a tortoise sanctuary in deepest Cornwall was nothing short of genius sir! The poor tortoises, penned in and deprived of their freedom, and subject to the intransigent whims of a jobsworth council official (obviously a coded swipe at Netanyahu) is a most telling metaphor - one that the venerable Swift would applaud! Old Arthur Groat was so overcome that his dentures fell out of his mouth and into his pint of mild. Lord Richie, your esteemed column has today greatly contributed to the cause of peace in the Middle East. Never will I look at a tortoise in the same way again I say! (Hic!)
Richie - I must say we sat in the snug this afternoon agog - nay, entranced - by your most excellent column. Who would have thought that today, when Mahmood Abbas stood before the UN to make his impassioned and historical plea for Palestinian statehood, that Lord Richie Littlewon, Britain's Bestest Columnist, would produce such a literary masterwork! To symbolically equate the struggle of the PLO with a tortoise sanctuary in deepest Cornwall was nothing short of genius sir! The poor tortoises, penned in and deprived of their freedom, and subject to the intransigent whims of a jobsworth council official (obviously a coded swipe at Netanyahu) is a most telling metaphor - one that the venerable Swift would applaud! Old Arthur Groat was so overcome that his dentures fell out of his mouth and into his pint of mild. Lord Richie, your esteemed column has today greatly contributed to the cause of peace in the Middle East. Never will I look at a tortoise in the same way again I say! (Hic!)
Tuesday
No, I'm not kidding. We really have to defend the Guardian/September 20th 2011.
Richie - Greetings from Free Dale Farm! Old Wob and my best mate Union activist Dave Salt fired up the Jag and travelled down last night to support the residents and owners of this land from the viscious ethnic cleansing programme initiated by Tory Basildon Council. And what bravery these people have shown Rich - heroes every one for standing up to the oppressive Tory state machine! In an age when troughing bankers are pocketing billions and holding our financial systems to ransom it beggars belief that millions of pounds of taxpayers money can be spent on forced evictions of the poorest people in the land - all on the petty grounds of lax planning laws. Needless to say, we're keeping an eye out for any Stasi NI reporters infiltrating the camp and many of the security personnel (immigrants mainly,I reckon,paid less than the minimum wage) are quietly sympathetic to the cause. Off now for a sing song round the campfire before I glue my comb-over to one of the tinkers' vans! Mad I say!
Richie - Greetings from Free Dale Farm! Old Wob and my best mate Union activist Dave Salt fired up the Jag and travelled down last night to support the residents and owners of this land from the viscious ethnic cleansing programme initiated by Tory Basildon Council. And what bravery these people have shown Rich - heroes every one for standing up to the oppressive Tory state machine! In an age when troughing bankers are pocketing billions and holding our financial systems to ransom it beggars belief that millions of pounds of taxpayers money can be spent on forced evictions of the poorest people in the land - all on the petty grounds of lax planning laws. Needless to say, we're keeping an eye out for any Stasi NI reporters infiltrating the camp and many of the security personnel (immigrants mainly,I reckon,paid less than the minimum wage) are quietly sympathetic to the cause. Off now for a sing song round the campfire before I glue my comb-over to one of the tinkers' vans! Mad I say!
Friday
Welcome to Dale Farm- twinned with Darfur/September 16th 2011.
Richie - A group of itinerant travellers set up camp on our village green this week, erecting lean-tos and various unstable structures made from corrugated sheets pilfered from a nearby skip. The group regailed locals with pitiful tales of anger and abuse to such effect that the good people of this parish began collecting food in support of their cause. What's more our happy-clappy vicar Rev Pritchard, in order to demonstrate their plight (and hoping for a good photo opportunity in the Church Times), took his sleeping bag and warmest dog collar and joined them in their camp. But the Rev called me in a flap: "All is not as it seems, Bob. These down and outs own luxury cars, watches and property in well-known tax havens." Turns out they were a motley collection of bankers bleating about their yuman rights and demanding UN support as a discriminated sub-section of society. Needless to say, when the truth was out we let em feel the full force of our displeasure and dipped em in the duck pond! That's the bulldog spirit I say!
Richie - A group of itinerant travellers set up camp on our village green this week, erecting lean-tos and various unstable structures made from corrugated sheets pilfered from a nearby skip. The group regailed locals with pitiful tales of anger and abuse to such effect that the good people of this parish began collecting food in support of their cause. What's more our happy-clappy vicar Rev Pritchard, in order to demonstrate their plight (and hoping for a good photo opportunity in the Church Times), took his sleeping bag and warmest dog collar and joined them in their camp. But the Rev called me in a flap: "All is not as it seems, Bob. These down and outs own luxury cars, watches and property in well-known tax havens." Turns out they were a motley collection of bankers bleating about their yuman rights and demanding UN support as a discriminated sub-section of society. Needless to say, when the truth was out we let em feel the full force of our displeasure and dipped em in the duck pond! That's the bulldog spirit I say!
Tuesday
Crims ain't what they used to be/September 13th 2011.
Richie - I was snoozing in my comfy chair when I was woken by high pitched screetching and girlish yelps from ladies of a certain age. Of course, it was Tuesday and Mrs Bob No 3 was entertaining her fellow am-drammers at Castle Roberts where they were about to enjoy a read-through of their proposed autumn production, a musical version of The Great Train Robbery, written by our own happy clappy Reverand Pritchard. I attempted to hot-foot it to the snug but instead was subjected to the flirtatious attentions of said ladies before being ordered to provide tea and crumpets all round. The Rev explained that the musical would be a christian interpretation of the events of 1963 focusing on his belief that old time crims lived by a code of honour that is sadly lacking today. Indeed, the final number "They Wuz Good Honest Lads, M'Lud & Only Coshed A Train Driver To Death" should be sung in every school in the land, he said, to inject vim and much-needed moral vigour into our lazy feral yoof!
Richie - I was snoozing in my comfy chair when I was woken by high pitched screetching and girlish yelps from ladies of a certain age. Of course, it was Tuesday and Mrs Bob No 3 was entertaining her fellow am-drammers at Castle Roberts where they were about to enjoy a read-through of their proposed autumn production, a musical version of The Great Train Robbery, written by our own happy clappy Reverand Pritchard. I attempted to hot-foot it to the snug but instead was subjected to the flirtatious attentions of said ladies before being ordered to provide tea and crumpets all round. The Rev explained that the musical would be a christian interpretation of the events of 1963 focusing on his belief that old time crims lived by a code of honour that is sadly lacking today. Indeed, the final number "They Wuz Good Honest Lads, M'Lud & Only Coshed A Train Driver To Death" should be sung in every school in the land, he said, to inject vim and much-needed moral vigour into our lazy feral yoof!
Friday
How do you plead? Deal or no deal?/September 9th 2011.
Richie - This week I took Mrs Bob on an awayday to Buck Palace after she'd nagged to see the royal wedding dress. I must say the old pocket book was hit hard, what with the entrance fee and a glossy souvenir. But Old Wob gamely tried to look interested as gaggles of Americans, Japs and blue rinses from the shires Ooohed and Aaahed at a bit of expensive white material, counting each stitch of lace as though it had been knitted by The Virgin herself. I was hoping Pippa's undercrackers would be on show too but no such luck and after two hours of weary palace-wandering I convinced Mrs Bob we should retire for a spot of lunch at a high end eatery. Would you Adam and Eve it, Rich, sitting at the next table was a top ranking Tory politico, gorging himself on lobster, oysters and other expensive treats. "There's good honest folk in Worcester who have less to spend in a month than the cost of your meal" I said to which he gave me the finger and growled: "Naff off you Labour oik!" Disgraceful, I say!
Richie - This week I took Mrs Bob on an awayday to Buck Palace after she'd nagged to see the royal wedding dress. I must say the old pocket book was hit hard, what with the entrance fee and a glossy souvenir. But Old Wob gamely tried to look interested as gaggles of Americans, Japs and blue rinses from the shires Ooohed and Aaahed at a bit of expensive white material, counting each stitch of lace as though it had been knitted by The Virgin herself. I was hoping Pippa's undercrackers would be on show too but no such luck and after two hours of weary palace-wandering I convinced Mrs Bob we should retire for a spot of lunch at a high end eatery. Would you Adam and Eve it, Rich, sitting at the next table was a top ranking Tory politico, gorging himself on lobster, oysters and other expensive treats. "There's good honest folk in Worcester who have less to spend in a month than the cost of your meal" I said to which he gave me the finger and growled: "Naff off you Labour oik!" Disgraceful, I say!
Monday
Cabbage EVERY day? Get me the Wicked Witch now!/September 6th 2011.
Richie - Saturday I donned my best cherry red Dr Marten boots, turned-up jeans, bracers, and Ben Sherman shirt and infiltrated the EDL march in London. Along with three Ingurlish patriots named Todger, Bodger and Dozy Dave from Barking I enjoyed a pre-march skinful of ale, each of us downing eight pints before smashing our glasses on Dozy Dave's thick head. After joining all the other fun-loving EDL marchers at Waterloo Station we sang our favourite racist songs, pulled nasty faces and gave the finger to a group of little Asian kids standing outside a sari shop. Unfortunately though, Rich, my new mates had their big day out cut short. Todger threw up in Smiths and was dragged yelping into a black mariah; Bodger was subjected to rendition after making threatening gestures towards the Israeli embassy; and Dozy Dave ended up in clink after knocking off a copper's helmet as he goose-stepped down the Mall performing the Nazi salute. Long live the peace-loving Ingurlish Defence League I say!
Richie - Saturday I donned my best cherry red Dr Marten boots, turned-up jeans, bracers, and Ben Sherman shirt and infiltrated the EDL march in London. Along with three Ingurlish patriots named Todger, Bodger and Dozy Dave from Barking I enjoyed a pre-march skinful of ale, each of us downing eight pints before smashing our glasses on Dozy Dave's thick head. After joining all the other fun-loving EDL marchers at Waterloo Station we sang our favourite racist songs, pulled nasty faces and gave the finger to a group of little Asian kids standing outside a sari shop. Unfortunately though, Rich, my new mates had their big day out cut short. Todger threw up in Smiths and was dragged yelping into a black mariah; Bodger was subjected to rendition after making threatening gestures towards the Israeli embassy; and Dozy Dave ended up in clink after knocking off a copper's helmet as he goose-stepped down the Mall performing the Nazi salute. Long live the peace-loving Ingurlish Defence League I say!
Thursday
Please Sir - is that you in Seven Brides For Seven Dwarves?/September 2nd 2011.
Richie - Benedict Garrett isn't the only one bringing his chosen profession into disrepute! A couple of nights ago I was enjoying a snifter in my comfy chair when I recieved a breathless call from Marcia Braithwaite. "Bob" she gasped. "Somebody has broken into my house!" Well, I immediately put on my safety goggles and rolled up my copy of the DM and went round pronto. Sure enough a t-leaf was at work in an upstairs room. I managed to surprise the critter and felled him with a swift blow only to discover that it was none other than our local bank manager! Seems the dishonest leech likes nothing better than to dress up in kinky burglar gear and fleece hard working folk of their savings and pensions. But that's not all! We're now on the look-out for a Tory Turnip who twice a week masquerades as a satirical columinst! He should be easily found, though, because he fills his rants with dodgy research and cut n paste parodies of long forgotten telly shows! Mad in ShamCam's rip-off UK say!
Richie - Benedict Garrett isn't the only one bringing his chosen profession into disrepute! A couple of nights ago I was enjoying a snifter in my comfy chair when I recieved a breathless call from Marcia Braithwaite. "Bob" she gasped. "Somebody has broken into my house!" Well, I immediately put on my safety goggles and rolled up my copy of the DM and went round pronto. Sure enough a t-leaf was at work in an upstairs room. I managed to surprise the critter and felled him with a swift blow only to discover that it was none other than our local bank manager! Seems the dishonest leech likes nothing better than to dress up in kinky burglar gear and fleece hard working folk of their savings and pensions. But that's not all! We're now on the look-out for a Tory Turnip who twice a week masquerades as a satirical columinst! He should be easily found, though, because he fills his rants with dodgy research and cut n paste parodies of long forgotten telly shows! Mad in ShamCam's rip-off UK say!
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