How I miss Question Time. One hankers after £30,000-an-hour Fiona Bruce pontificating on inequality before a representative audience of progressive liberals who have a relative at the BBC. As our £110,000-a-year elected representatives take a [more…]
Monday Good morning and welcome to another week of the ramblings of your favourite cat reporter. A nice morning today again, but I’m delighted to be able to tell you that Legohead had a grotty [more…]
Last week’s trip to Albania being too mainstream, this edition of Railway Review (how I yearn for the return of Question Time!) was going to be of an obscure South American mineral line. Observing the [more…]
My loyal reader may well remember the buildings and maintenance department, at my request, taking the big saw to the plum tree, which at the time was riddled with canker, if an attempt to encourage [more…]
Monday Good morning, and what a beautiful sunny morning it is. It’s nice and warm, and there is a clear blue sky, quite appropriate for my 18th birthday. Legohead is off to an immigration summit [more…]
Under a waning moon, three furtive figures make their way towards the island’s Constance Bay. Silent, gaunt and burdened, they carry two canvas bags bearing scant rations and a few petty, pilfered provisions — enough [more…]
Boy, how I miss Question Time. The witty repartee, the razor-sharp cut and thrust of debate. George the Poet. The £22 billion black hole. Foodbanks, the statutory tranny, and the obese woman with the purple [more…]
Monday Good morning, my friends. There was a bit of watery sun about when I strolled to the bottom of the garden for my poo behind the gardener’s shed. Something had been digging down there. [more…]
In Part 5, the relationship between Hans Coutandin and Eva Moller appeared to have changed, he was now in Africa and had narrowly missed being captured. In his next letter of the 3rd March 1943, [more…]
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