Tag Archive: David Cameron

Dec 15 - Christmas Card

Ahh … now I know Christmas is coming.

Christmas in my house would not be complete without the Stroods.

I imagine puzzled faces on those who have only read my Roasts over the last year. I shall explain. Mr and Mrs E Strood live a few doors down and over the road from me. Their house is one number different to mine.

The view from my window with the Stroods house on the corner and about the hundredth scrap van seen this morning

Since I arrived in 1997, I have had a Christmas card for the Stroods, wrongly delivered to my house from their friends, Betty and Bert. Now, how do I know it’s Betty and Bert? Ahem! I mistakenly thought it was for me and opened it that first year. Stupid, I should have known. I’m a miserable Bah Humbug bastard. Nobody sends me Christmas cards.

Anyway, the situation in my street is you don’t converse with your neighbours until the day they depart to a new house and then only if you’ve spent years nodding good morning at them. Therefore, every year I don the balaclava and mount a clandestine operation in the middle of the night to deliver the card to the correct address.

Now I know what you’re thinking, and it’s the same thing asked every year. Why the hell don’t I tell the Stroods and hand it personally? That’s just it. I don’t. Year after year, I carry out my mission. One occasion I got in trouble and set off two security lights, knocked over a wheelie bin and got chased by the dog. Then there was the year it snowed and I left tracks everywhere and had to go back with a brush to sweep them away.

As I say, I speak of this Christmas card every year as those of you who’ve followed me from Myspace will remember when the Sunday Roast appeared there. For people who can’t remember my roasts on Myspace – tough, you can’t see them any more as Justin Timberlake and his consortium erased all the blogs when they took over.

Back to the Stroods … and Betty and Bert. I always wait with anticipation for this card. You see, I get worried now. What if the Stroods move house and don’t inform Betty and Bert? Come on, in 16 years, they haven’t told them they’ve been sending a card to the wrong address, so it stands a chance. Then again, what if … what if … Betty and Bert … have died?


This was the major worry last year as (horror and concern) I didn’t get the card delivered to my house.

I was traumatised. Okay, there could have been the logical explanation that Betty and Bert had finally updated their address books, but come on, we all know that’s not likely.

However, I have the greatest pleasure to announce, yesterday. Saturday December 14, the card to Mr and Mrs E Stood – finally arrived … at my house. Its got glitter in it this year and I can rest in my sleep. At least I will once it’s past midnight and my in the dead of night military operation to deliver the bloody card is well and truly completed.

And a late tribute.

I know Nelson Mandela died over a week ago and he’s being buried as I speak, but I didn’t do a roast last Sunday so couldn’t comment.

I don’t think I have ever seen a person’s passing marked so universally with everybody I know, praising them.

When I see good folk dying young while scumbag tyrants like Pinochet, Mugabe and Thatcher live to a ripe old age, it reinforces my belief that there isn’t a God. However, here is one guy who deserved the long life they received. Below is a picture I posted over a year ago when he met David Cameron while perfecting the art of turning into a chameleon.

July 22 Chameleon Mandela

Yes, it’s a joke, but one I think Nelson would have laughed at as he did seem to have a cracking sense of humour. Must have done to describe meeting the Spice Girls as being one of the greatest moments of his life.

Dec 15 - Nelson Mandela meets the Spice Girls

Stormy Weather.

There has been some terrible weather in the last week or so and much of the East Coast has been badly affected. I saw one piece where David Cameron visited the oddly named coastal town, Wells-Next-The-Sea.

I feel for anybody in a situation where homes are ruined, but feel for the local council. They are now going to have to change all their stationery to read, Wells-In-The-Sea.

Bad pun? I expect to get a flood of complaints now.

More sights you see about town …

Last time out, I posted a picture of a shop window displaying what I can only describe as decapitated heads.

Dec 1 - Head (1024x579)

Well, I saw another one this week which stirred my interest. Monsters from Doctor Who.

Dec 15 - Flower Heads (447x1024)

Don’t believe me? Look at this picture from the 1986 story, Trial of a Time Lord.

Dec 15 - Doctor Who Vervoid

Hey, December 15 and I’ve only said, Bah humbug, once.

Twice, Damn it! Oh well, think of me tonight as I deliver the Stroods card … probably waking the entire neighbourhood in the process.



In the name of sanity …

You may remember me talking about Christmas the other week and how we seem to start shopping in October. Well, I was driving home the other evening in the pouring rain, slowed down for a second, and saw it.

Duh, duh, duuuuuurrrr!

I know it’s blurry, but you can just about make it out through a rainy windscreen – the horror. Yes, it wasn’t even late November at the time and some idiot had their Christmas decorations up.

I don’t know why some folk bother to take them down in the first place, they seem to be back up again before you know. I mentioned sanity in the title to this piece but with Christmas, sanity goes out of the window. Why do folk go overboard, spend thousands they can’t afford, all for some superstitious nonsense? Let’s face it, Chico Marx was right.

“There ain’t no Sanity Claus.”

A disturbing revelation.

The other week, I posted a piece about the dentist and to illustrate, used a still from the old Aquafresh advert with the smiling cartoon family. Well, thanks to my good friend, Mr Rich Wiltshir, I have been traumatised since by the image in my mind after an observation he made.

He said, “Am I the first to think the couple in your toothpaste add look like siblings?”

Arrrgghhh! I never thought of it before, but he’s right. The Aquafresh family are brother and sister and the cute Aquafresh child is a result of an incestuous relationship. Either that or Rich and I have far too much time on our hands.

It can’t be true. If they were inbred, they’d have bad teeth, not sparkling ones and they’d be on the Jeremy Kyle Show. As far as I can see, this family are off to Florida.

Bit of a Rolling ripoff …

I like the Rolling Stones. As I said the other week when commenting on a piece, I have some of their albums. However, I keep reading of fans complaining that their big 50th anniversary show in London was being ticketed at over £100 for the cheapest seats to nearly four times that for better ones.

An absolute ripoff. They should be ashamed. It’s not like they need the money. A decent tariff would have rewarded fans.

On another note, I see Bill Wyman has been drafted in to make a reunion appearance. I see everybody has conveniently forgotten he used to be a pedophile.

Yes, I know she was 18 when they married, but she states he’d been shagging her since she was 13. If it happened today, he’d subsequently be shagging a beefy skinhead called, Boris – in prison.

Strange things in a strange town.

Went to a great concert the other night in Wolverhampton by one of my favourites at the minute – Frank Turner. I took Matthew, my 13-year-old and it was on the way back to the car in Wolverhampton Town Centre, he pointed something out to me.

‘Look at that chair on its own.’

In Wolverhampton, seating is provided for shoppers. Most look like this …

However, the one my son pointed out was single and lonely, as is shown below.

I though it rather funny. But why install a single chair? The only thing I can think of is the politically correct brigade in Wolverhampton want to cater for all people so they have several solitary seats for those who have no mates.

Bureaucratic madness.

I read the other day that over 5000 under-aged offenders have received driving bans which have been imposed even though they are not legally old enough to drive. Five kids have had this ban even though they are only 11.

What the hell is the point of that? Yes, fine them and do everything the system allows within the range of common sense but why ban them from doing something they aren’t supposed to do anyway?

The circus comes to Stamford Bridge – again.

I see multimillionaire, Roman Abramovich wielded the axe again this week. Now when Roberto Di Matteo was sacked by West Bromwich Albion nearly two years ago, I thought it harsh. However, they were facing relegation and history shows the right decision was probably made, in hindsight. Still, Roberto went to Chelsea and became manager when the mad Russian sacked the last poor sod after half a season in charge. Robbie took the job, then went onto win the biggest prize in European football.

Not good enough for Abramovich. I mean, after a few games this season, Chelsea are only in 4th so Robbie had to go.

Bollocks. I feel for Chelsea fans … Actually, I don’t. They’ve had all this glory just because some billionaire wants to use them as his plaything. Still, what does Abramovic expect? A manager needs time. Far more than this twat gives them.

What a clown.

He has now installed former Liverpool manager, Rafa Benitez, in the hope he will lead Chelsea to the Premier League title. If past managers are anything to go by, Rafa shouldn’t worry about buying a house in SW6 just yet. Having a long stay in the Premier League? Rafa Benitez should expect a few weeks at a Premier Inn.

Don’t you know there’s a war on?

David Cameron has said that the battle for global prosperity is the same as the one we had when fighting Hitler.

Now there is a thing called Godwin’s Law. This is the idea that as soon as you bring Hitler and the Nazis into an argument, you immediately lose that argument.

Okay, not exactly the same but by using Hitler as a reference in this one, Cameron has proved one thing.

He is a pillock.

No – still not in the festive spirit.

And I won’t be for many weeks to come. I do celebrate Christmas, but as an atheist, I use it as a time to be nice to my family once a year. Other people take it to the extreme, as in the case of the November Christmas lights on that house at the top of this roast. Then you have all the stocking up in case the world ends because the shops shut for one day a year. And don’t get me started on cards. You have all the palaver of sending cards to people you see every day, but it doesn’t end there.

What was it I saw in the shop the other day? One with a greeting – Happy Christmas from the cat.

From the fucking cat????

Yes, sanity has more than gone out the window. It’s now stuck up the chimney with last year’s rotting remains of Father Christmas.

Cheers – and bah humbug!


Mooning about at the minute.

So we lost Neil Armstrong this week. Possibly the greatest adventurer of all time … or the most successful at carrying on with a cover-up, ever. Depending on your conspiracy beliefs.

Photo of astronaut on the moon, taken by two passers-by.

I have to say, I’ve been guilty in the past of doubting but as I understand, you can now see good images of tracks, footprints and equipment where it was left all those years ago. It would have been really terrible if it had ever been exposed as a fake but what still amazes me is, how the hell they did it?

These days with all our technology, everything is so complicated yet 40 years ago we were sending men thousands of miles into space in a biscuit tin covered in turkey foil, attached to a giant firework. I mean, who needed fuel for the rocket when the astronauts own bodily gasses would have been enough to power the thing with the amount they’d have been crapping themselves on blast off.

So cheers to Neil Armstrong for being part of the greatest moment in history. And also for creating the basis for one of the quiz questions people get wrong the most.

“What were the first words spoken as the module made contact with the lunar surface?” And no – it wasn’t The Eagle has landed. Answers at the bottom, please.

Magnetic personality … or a shitload of money?

81-year-old, Formula 1 supremo, Bernie Ecclestone has got married again. His new wife is 46 years younger than him. Nothing wrong with that. His fresh missus obviously sees his charm and charisma … or could it be the £4.2billion he has in the bank?

Bernie with new wife, Fabianna. Which one is Fabianna? I don’t think Bernie’s that bothered.

And when you thought the Olympics were over …

We have the Paralympic games on at the moment. As you know, I’m quite at the front in protesting for disability rights, what with my son but even so, I wasn’t too fussed about the main Olympics and neither am I about these. I’ll take a passing interest and wish the athletes well. However …

I didn’t watch the opening ceremony but caught many tweets and updates online and some of the things I saw, irritated me.

First of all, we have smug David Cameron, sitting applauding, saying he is so proud and showing his support as the head of the government. But hang on. Would this be the same government that has spent two years trying to stigmatise the disabled, heading a campaign where they are made to feel worthless when essential services and benefits are cut? Is this the government which is quite happy to lie in bed with the gutter press and whip up a frenzy, accusing the disabled of being scroungers? Yes, I’m afraid it is. Cameron, your son was disabled, you should know how it is. Perhaps living with that silver spoon in your mouth, you never really got to know what it was like to be part of the disability chain?

And then we have Atos – major sponsor of the games.

This is the French company who make money from the disabled by hounding them and sending many back to work when they are in no fit state to do so. Cameron’s government have paid these profiteers over £100million in the hope they will weed out as many as possible to return to work and save the government a little money. I mean, we can’t have the poor and needy taking a share of the cash from the greedy bosses and administrators of this country, can we? Disability benefit fraud is under 0.5%, and most of those cases are found out. Yet again we are hounding the most vulnerable at the same time, Cameron, his cronies and greedy bosses in industry and the banking community, continue to shift billions into offshore accounts in the hope they will swell their own pockets a little more.

Cameron, Atos – Shame on you.

But back to the Paralympic opening ceremony and finally, we had the Queen and other members of her heinous family show up. All of them, sitting while applauding the bravery of the disabled. Just one thing to say to the Queen. Look at this picture.

Yes, it’s your cousin, the one you have never visited in the 70 years since your family shut her and your other (now deceased) cousin in an institution. The good old lovable Queen Mum was their aunt, for Christ’s sake, head of Mencap yet the she and the other royals even tried to declare the women dead in the 196os to hide the stigma.

So – our gracious Queen. Instead of sitting all smug while watching our Olympians, try and do something to help disability by looking closer to home. Your cousin. She still lives, exists – or had you forgotten?

One rule for the famous …

Pop diva, Rhianna uttered the immortal and unforgivable line this week. “Don’t you know who I am?”

She was drunk at a club, danced on the table and broke it, causing damage and potential injury to others. The bouncers stepped in, didn’t recognise her and she began screaming. One of her parasitic friends started yelling, “That’s Rhianna, you idiots.”

The bouncers realised who it was. But this is the best bit. Did she still get ejected? No, they apologised, let her continue her appalling behaviour and gave her and the spongers, free drinks.

She should have been flung out into the gutter on her scrawny arse.

Rhianna … Is there an umbrella big enough to cover your ego?

A little creepy exposure.

At least twice a week, I keep seeing pictures in the tabloids of Michael Jackson’s children. In particular, they seem keen to be publishing cute pictures of pouting teenage daughter, Paris. I can understand there is interest in some quarters. Not quite sure why but keeping on printing pictures of an innocent looking 14-year old girl cannot be right – surely?

However, the kid I feel for is the youngest one – Blanket. Every shot you see of him, he looks so unhappy. Mind you, I’d be pissed off if I was named after an item of bedding.

Well, did you get the answer to the moon question?

If not, look it up. There is still some debate but I’m talking from the point when the module first connected with the surface. Mind you, this is all irrelevant. We all know the real first person on the moon. It was Tintin.



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