And his WAR TIME BAND!
Coming to a country near you soon!
Yes, relive all the old classics with Uncle Tony and his pink oboe players on their whistle stop tour of Europe. Great songs such as:
Red Mosques in the Sunset, Scud marks in the sand.
There'll be smart bombs over, Saddam's Landrover.
Some enchanted evening, We will kill a stranger.
We'll invade again, We know where but we're not sure when.
I've got a lovely bunch of Anthrax bombs.
Whispering gas don't tell the press, Because the press don't need to know.
Uncle Tony's tour of the European nations, including Italy, Turkey, Bulgaria, Hungary, Greece, Romania, Transylvania and Holland. Unfortunately there are no tickets available for France and Germany. Lucky bastards.
Support the War! Move to Switzerland!
Editor's note: Apologies for this posting being slightly out-of-date. Tony bin Blair should currently be enjoying a mug of cocoa in his love-nest with George Dubbya at Camp David right about now. This is what happens when I try to be clever and write my blogs in advance.
BRITAIN GRINDS TO A HALT...AGAIN! As happens every year Britain's transport has reached a standstill whilst the country is blanketed with snow. Many people were stranded in their cars overnight because the road gritters, despite warnings from the met office, failed to act. The road gritting firms have been accused of 'delaying tactics' to save money. A spokesperson for Tony bin Blair (who's currently dunking his digestive in George Bush JR's log cabin) said, "These are exceptional weather conditions and we just weren't prepared." Exceptional weather conditions? It happens every bloody year for Christ's sake! Has done for the last 5,000 years at least! You'd think the bastards would be prepared by now, wouldn't you?
Oddly enough, here in Fleetwood the sun is shining, the roads are empty (we live on a peninsular so there's nowhere else to go unless your car doubles as a submarine) and the only snow is on the mountains while the streets remain safe and clear. With a certain amount of irony our roads have all been gritted despite the fact they don't need to be.
The way I see it, the problem lies with the fact that these soft southern puffs have got the wrong landscape. What you need are some lofty mountain peaks to take the snow out of the sky before it reaches you. Couple that with the salt air from the bay and the warmth of the Gulf Stream and Bob's your uncle. Serves you right for insisting that 'Central Britain' means the 'Southern end of England' and for surrounding yourself by soft woolly hills from Noddy books.
Other news and John Prescott is set to introduce legislation that, in effect, would prevent the Fire Brigade Union from striking. Quite a turn around from the days when Prescott the Hutt was in opposition, eh? All that stuff he said during the miner's strike, et al? There is an old saying that the older you get the more right wing you become. In Prescott's case this obviously applies to his weight rather than his age. He is now approaching 75 stone per jowl and fascist totalitarianism at a rate of 183 knots.
