| A Bulgarian bloke came to the shop to look at the washing machine. He lacked the language skills to say, ‘You bin usin it, ain’tcha? Have to send off for spare parts… ninety two pound fifty plus Vat please, guv.’ Indeed, he so far misunderstood the British system that he extracted the blackened programmer board, resoldered a by-pass circuit and actually mended the machine.
The crocuses have croaked and there’s blossom on the trees. The mileposts of the winter are behind us now – we’ve survived National Divorce day on 3 January, Financial Suicide day on 31 January 31, when people finally decide to forget about their tax return and jump off a balcony, and, somewhere in-between, we had the Most Depressing Day of the Year. There’s only March to struggle through and then it will be Spring. Tony out, and Gordon in! Yippee…
They may have released the recording from the cockpit of the ‘friendly fire’ plane, but what they’ve not admitted yet is that it’s Tony saying, ‘Shit! Shit! Shit! I’m going to be sick’. And George W saying, ‘We’re in jail, dude!’ as they realise they’ve made a fundamental spelling mistake, and that they’re going to have to nuke Iran now before Afterdinnerjab gets the chance. I just hope this teaches the Americans the importance of geography lessons in school. They’re so proud of themselves over there that the next President will either be black or a woman. In cutting-edge N16 we’ve been led for years now by someone who is both. Which is why the place is so … well-run? and, er… I think we’d better change the subject here.
Like everyone else we’re wondering what it will be like if the First Sea Lord fails to get his money and turns us into Belgium. I like mayonnaise on my chips so I’m not that bovvered, but I’m wondering if the same thing wouldn’t work at local level. Let’s wheel Diane out to demand: ‘Give us the money, Gordon, or we’ll turn into Peckham.’
Mortimer Ribbons is Transport Correspondent for Ribbons & Taylor Vintage Clothing.
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