mro

I need a holiday. I know I spent a five-day Easter weekend in the UK but I feel as if I need a real, proper holiday. One where I get to chill out and lounge in a hammock while bikini-clad totty bring me All Inclusive cocktails and things.

Whenever I go on holiday I like to collect tat. I have shelves of the stuff - look at what souvenirs I have acquired over the last few years. This is only the part of it; I have four shelves chocca of bits, plus my little mask collection and other sundry bits. Looky looky:






As ever, there is always a little story of some sort attached. Take the bottle of House of Commons Red Wine for example. I was having dinner there (as you do!) and chatting to my brother (whom I took as a guest) when, just at the Guest Speaker stood up to make his speech, I finished my amusing anecdote with the phrase "So who's the cunt?" And believe me, my voice can be rather loud even when I am talking normally. Oooh, the embarressment of all those members of the House looking at me thinking I was some sort of ruffian. The only way I could console myself was to steal a bottle of red wine and a coffee cup (in the pic, between the Buddah and the red Big Apple). So yeh, the mild mannered stockbroker has not only said a rude word in one of the most trusted and sacred places in the whole of English politics but he has also stolen a piece of crockery.

I can just imagine Tony Blair being a smite pissed off because everyone else gets a cup of coffee and he doesn't, all because they are a cup short. Shit, i've just thought; next time Tony is in a bad mood and makes a poor policy decision about increasing taxes it will be because he hasn't had his morning coffee. Meh, fuck it. I don't pay tax in the UK so I don't care what he does