We have house guests. Or had, they buggered off this morning, probably with half our silverware and the tv from the spare room. But what a joy to share one’s home, one’s house, one’s life, albeit temporarily, even with freeloaders from Australia. Yes, Bulawayo Johnny and Dr Bill (that’s a ‘she-doctor’ in case you’re wondering about Johnny’s sexuality; something we’ve all questioned at one time or another) came on Wednesday aaaalllllll the way from Sydney. Where, just 2 short years ago, they hosted Mel & me with such hospitality and charm, that we felt duty-bound to try to reciprocate in some small way.

So we took them last night for fish’n’chips. In Hatch End (don’t ask). Because its part of the true and full ‘British Experience’ that when you leave these shores your arteries should be just that little bit more clogged up than when you arrived here. So we went to eat that most British of things, singing ‘maybe its because I’m a Lundunna’ in the car on the way, to heighten the full, white-van-man, UKIP, Milwall-supporting, working-class, Inglish-wayya-loife. Strictly speaking we should have gone for a curry, but that for can be next time.

Even though they only moved to Aus 25 years ago and lived a long time impersonating Londoners before they were deported to the penal colony.

Bill was asleep in the car on the way back, Johnny at least waited til he lay on his bed, fully clothed, before appreciating what the words ‘jet’ and ‘lag’ really mean when strung together in a certain way.

So I watched Question Time. And came to the realisation that all politicians are totally worthless. Yes, this stunning insight came as I watched Nigel Farage (who personally defines the term ‘worthless’, sorry Wayne), some Tory tart, a Labour loser, Russel fucking Brand (politician? revolutionary?? he’s barely a credible comedian) and some horsey looking bird who was that curious mix of plummy, posh, poncey demeanour with right-on, slightly lefty attitude. And this is what I learned after devoting about a half an hour of my life (which I’ll never get back again) to what they had to spew out:

That any criticism of immigration, any mention of purely common sense ‘we’re full up and can’t take no more’ is met with cries of ‘racism!!!” from some nob or other.

That the Labour party are putting their house (or their chance to live in it for 5 years) in the hands of the NHS. They have cleverly(??) aligned their entire election campaign with the National Health. Everything they do, all the shit they spout, comes back to ‘protecting our NHS’. Mansion tax = survival of the NHS; increasing income tax = saving the NHS; slaying of the firstborn = saving the NHS. Its like a broken fucking record.

That all political parties waste more time on their parties than they do on the country, its future, its population.

So I’m done with politics; I’m going to follow football instead.

Happy Friday

A xxxx