THE BRITISH THREAD

I'm in a romantic mood...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPE66tN89AE

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We are all sick.

It's official. The UNICEF report is a national disgrace.

Three cheers for Mrs Thatcher and her New Labour cronies.

I'm glad I never voted for any of that tribe.

The middle classes disgust me.

Mainstream media disgusts me.

A nation of twittering narcissists with the kids nowhere. It has been obvious for years.

Check out 'This Be The Verse' by Philip Larkin.

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spendius wrote:

We are all sick.

It's official. The UNICEF report is a national disgrace.

Three cheers for Mrs Thatcher and her New Labour cronies.

I'm glad I never voted for any of that tribe.

The middle classes disgust me.

Mainstream media disgusts me.

A nation of twittering narcissists with the kids nowhere. It has been obvious for years.

Check out 'This Be The Verse' by Philip Larkin.

Is this a class issue, Spendi? I don't think it is.

I had a maths teacher once who was fond of saying "I blame the Welfare State"

Yet Holland came top in the poll, with Scandinavian countries close behind. Strong socialist influences there.

Where have we gone wrong?

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I can suggest a few things but I'll refrain.

Don't forget the multi-billion N.Sea oil Christmas present Mrs Thatcher got handed to her. Where did that go. We have millions of acres of fertile soil and we are surrounded by fish. Everybody is pissed off and we are bottom of the league in child welfare.

"This is a car economy" the silly bat said. And "There's no such thing as society".

I tried reading her book once. Talk about lacking in literary grace. What can you expect from a grocer's daughter who married up to a man on the bounce four times her age. No wonder Ted Heath was disgruntled.

I bet it's a long time before the Tories try an experiment of that nature again.

It's not a class issue at all. It's a stupidity issue. The way we are going I can see Cameron getting elected for his smile.

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Which isn't all that convincing.

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Damn few Brits around today.

Damn bad show.

I'm off to the Horse and Farrier for a couple.

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You are lucky Mac.

A couple doesn't quite do it for me. A couple is a bit beta minus I feel. Peer reviewed and approved by all Guardian contributors.

Have you never been pissed out of your brains?

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In the event, I had three.

"Having a couple" or "popping out for a swift half" are, as you well know, inexact descriptions of what the visit might entail.

I'm afraid that I do not have enough remaining brain to abuse in that way.
Moderation in all things. My body is a temple.

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So, Friday night, evidently everyone's out enjoying themselves. I'm at home with my glass of whisky.
I went into town today, had a curry with my pal at Malu's excellent restaurant.
Then I went into W H Smith's and bought, among other things, a New Yorker and a Spectator magazine.

So I'm sorted for bedside reading.

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Nice prospect, McT Twisted Evil

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Mac wrote-

Quote:

a New Yorker and a Spectator magazine.

No beef Mac. You should try Frank Harris and Henry Miller and Sir Henry Rider Haggard. They inspire better dreams. And what could be better than that for bedtime reading. She Who Must Be Obeyed and "Your awkwardness excites me my dear! " and C.I Airport. (If you're good at acronyms "international" is a good word to leave for the next poster.)

I never read in bed. It isn't comfortable. I've tried it.

But I'm not into self-improvement. The Spectator is a rancid hotbed of fornicating aggressive egos. I expect the other one will not be much different.

Do you want to buy some old Spectators. Velly cheap.

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I read Chat/Bella/Best/Hello/Heat/Closer et al

If fact anything with celebrity cellulite, which takes my mind off my own. It's comforting to know that no matter how much money you have...you can still have a fat arse!

My current bedside reading:

Sallambo (still)
The Cell (S. King - shamelessley)
The Timewaster Letters (velly funny)

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Quote:

He approached so close he was touching her. "They would have spared me the pain of cursing you!"

Salammbo sprang quickly back, so much afraid was she of this unclean being, who was as hideous as a larva and nearly as terrible as a phantom.

"I am nearly one hundred years old," he said. "I have seen Agathocles; I have seen Regulus and the eagles of the Romans passing over the harvests of the Punic fields! I have seen all the terrors of battles and the sea encumbered with the wrecks of our fleets! Barbarians whom I used to command have chained my four limbs like a slave that has committed murder. My companions are dying around me, one after the other; the odour of their corpses awakes me in the night; I drive away the birds that come to peck out their eyes; and yet not for a single day have I despaired of Carthage! Though I had seen all the armies of the earth against her, and the flames of the siege overtop the height of the temples, I should have still believed in her eternity! But now all is over! all is lost! The gods execrate her! A curse upon you who have quickened her ruin by your disgrace!"

She opened her lips.

Ever been chatted up like that smorgsie?

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Ever had a real date, spendius?

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Quote:

Ever been chatted up like that smorgsie?

Loads of times!

No matter what century, culture, setting...

It just means 'can I shag you?'

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smorgs wrote:

Quote:
Ever been chatted up like that smorgsie?

Loads of times!

No matter what century, culture, setting...

It just means 'can I shag you?'

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You wot?

It sounds more like "So I suppose a shag is out of the question?"

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Got to be at the new gaff on Monday at 7.00a.m. to wait for delivery (s), you could always bring me a coffee if you've nothing better to do, McT?

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No bacon butties though... I'm on a diet!

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Let me know when the heavy lifting's done please :wink: Very Happy

. I've still not recovered from last week.

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Cal flitted onto our pistils and wrote-

Quote:

Ever had a real date, spendius?

and flitted off again.

What's a real date Cal. You're idea might not be the same as mine and one can't discuss things until the meanings of the key words are agreed.

One could go from Mr Blifil's date with Sophie in Tom Jones which has been arranged by her father and aunt and his father for the purpose of a property amalgamation all the way to an initiation into the Eleusinian mysteries. Jane Austen would have thought the former a real date whereas Robert Graves would have considered anything short of the latter to be a bourgoise pretend game.

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