Why bother?

I mean it's not as if I blog regularly anymore. We have, afterall, smashed the filthy socialists and will soon be on our way to the glorious sunlit uplands.
Also all the great and the good have quit. Dizzy is almost no more. Mr Eugenidies has vanished and the Devil has paying job, Guido is a shadow of his former self now we have eliminated them and all the left can offer is blandishments from their filthy union paymasters is People's Revolutionary pronouncements in the home style of British Leyland circa the Maxi1000 era.

Oh well I thought. I am now married, on the bench workwise and seeking to drag The Dere Northerner back to God's country and try and occupy the day while I furiously tout my body south if the 52nd parallel.

Thought it would be worth spouting daily news-inspired bollocks here for a change.

However - I may gloat first. I'm buggering off to Ibiza for a week's sailing and sitting about. Crikey. I sound like an UnNamed Union Boss. The working class can kiss my arse, I have a Public Sector backed gold plated pension at last. All out brothers! (except not me the trust fund for my three trustafarian daughters needs topping up....)

Right I'm off to spunk my money up the wall on expensive London dinners while keeping a homeless family who don't grease their money out of the Public Sector gravy train  out of my council flat. Nothing is too good for the party connected eh? Wankstain.

Solidarity eh, Reg?

Outraged? I promise to ignore any public protests regarding the fact I have been creaming it off your backs for yonks and have an overinflated sense of intitlement. Now fuck off an enjoy proper communism. Drop me a line when the chloroform has worn off and you have woken up in a ditch somewhere outside Pyong Yang ready for punishment duties.

Cunts.

Picture removed as the bastard will sue me.