Last day of June. Help! Summer was two days last week and here we are … More than a little under the weather – Becca is convinced I am a secret smoker judging by my cough – I have, actually, been struggling to find the time to commit my grievances to ‘paper’ this week. Becca is home from Rome, Manny appeared yesterday for the night – leaving some Amaro in the bottle! – and I was typing up an old friend’s book on Friday. Sunday night … It is so grey and overcast as I sit at my desk looking out over the garden. Been the same all day. Not as if the sun isn’t there, though, behind that persistent blanket of cloud. A metaphor for life, I suppose.
Just ‘Chimed for Wine’ and Becca is pounding up the stairs with the bottle of Tanqueray! An injection of cheer? Literally, perhaps. Someone who will need the same is Shania Twain. Exclamation mark? I had ear-marked her to watch at Glastonbury – having been enthralled, as ever, by the genius of Coldplay last night – but it was an absolute car crash. Firstly, one would find it hard to recognise her be that she looked as though she had been moved on from a street corner! The woman is 58, for goodness sake, and has always been known for her natural beauty. Not today. She appeared with ridiculous long, blond extensions, wearing – or not – some glittery bodycon bin bag which barely covered her bottom. That don’t impress me much! Sorry. Couldn’t resist. The point is, she looked nothing like the Shania Twain of old, nor was she dressed appropriately for her age. More importantly, she can’t sing anymore! Her troubles have been well-documented but who let her up there to make a fool of herself, knowing she was going to do exactly that? Instagram is full of it – how awful she was – and she is going to read that. So much for the ‘Yes’ men living off her shirt tails. Walking in the footsteps of Elvis and Michael Jackson, to name but two. So sad. Shania Twain was incredible. She, then, was felled by Lyme disease, not to mention a lying cheating husband and best friend … sympathy, where it is due. However, she can no longer sing., largely because she no longer has the range required for her hits. Let’s face it, she can barely talk! At the end of the day, it would have been so much kinder to tell her that; for one of her team/’friends’ to forego the dollars and tell her the truth …. to have spared her the humiliation which must surely follow.
Elections. Should I go there? Trump and Joe Biden in the States … I’m not sure who the joke is upon? I cannot escape the thought that Biden is a prototype of the first public AI robot. His face doesn’t move. Completely stiff, he cannot walk. Physically, he has escaped from Madame Tussauds … Mentally? Nothing. Earth to Biden! One has to ask why? The answer, surely, is that the deceitful Democrats plan to replace him at the last minute; that is, should their plan to derail – and even, in desperation, assassinate – Trump, fails. Nothing, now, seems beyond the realms of possibility. Meanwhile, here in the UK, Thursday is the day. I still predict a surprise result. So many unknowns, not least the fact that so many have no intention of voting! How can that be? Yes, it seems there is no-one worthy but the right to vote is sacrosanct: should be sacrosanct. Not to do so is shirking one’s responsibility. It’s not that difficult. Keir Starmer is sleaze personified. Lacking in intellect, he is consumed by envy, has no concrete policies – and no idea. Rishi Sunak, meanwhile, is Tom Daley. When not on the campaign trail, or on TV, he can be found at home knitting multi-coloured cardigans! His fate? Not sure. He has certainly trounced Starmer in every debate I have watched. Age-old. Stand beside an idiot and one is always going to look better.
Nigel Farage? I salute both his individuality and his guts. Moreover, his plans for the NHS. The constant cries of under-funding are nothing short of unintelligent and cowardly. My father, a Consultant Psychiatrist who had, previously, loved his job, took voluntary early retirement in 1987 on the brink of the management takeover. Shackled by the unqualified administrative staff commanding large salaries and, increasingly, calling the shots, he could take no more. That was thirty-seven years ago … Today, there are jobs advertised for Diversity Officers commanding six-figure salaries. Today, the medically trained – the heart of the NHS – are being asphyxiated by ambitious chancers riding on the wave of the Left-wing, woke agenda. Today, the NHS is not under-funded. Today, the NHS needs completely re-structured; pulled down and re-built. Bin the managment poison and their six-figure salaries; invest the money in care! Nigel Farage is the only one who has the foresight – and the courage – to do so.
As for the SNP and the Greens? Well, at least one lot should be in jail …
On another subject – before I sign off – Joe Slater in Tenerife, his mother and the Go fund Me page set up on the day he went missing! I know the search by the Spanish authorities has been called off today, after a fortnight. Enough time to spend the £36,000? I read Debbie Duncan’s statement yesterday, ‘justifying’ her expenditure of the money donated in good faith … accommodation and food, plus funding for the loved ones of the loved ones, who have been supporting her through these dark times, to fly out to Tenerife so that they can all be together. Do I dare write it? Perhaps not but, suffice to say, it involves towels and sunbeds at 5am … The whole things smells a rat and I suspect the real victims are those kindly, naive souls who donated money. Call me cynical if you wish but watch this space …
Finally, on a lighter note, Becca and I have been driven to watch more of The Crown of late. Once again, it sends us both to sleep but, prior to boredom taking hold, I have noticed one or two problems in the production: firstly, in an early episode, Charles is seen to be left-handed … then not! Bad. Then, I noticed that Prince Philip was holding his knife like a pencil. Never in a month of Sundays! The researchers should be fired …
Anything else? Always, but sleep beckons in preparation for another exciting week; another exciting month and, pray God, a government devoid of Starmer!
‘The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.’
Winston Churchill
‘The average voter’. Churchill died sixty years ago. What hope have we now?
This is Trish, signing off.
