26th September
The pound has struck a fifty year low against the dollar.
Dire predictions in the press of rising prices and mortgage payment problems.
Where is Liz? Spot the Truss? She seems to have gone to ground. It feels a bit like one of those Where’s Wally books. I looked that up on Amazon and they do a Where’s Boris one.
Royals back in the news. King Charles iii cipher is published. Looks a bit Disneyesque to be honest. Maybe they could do a deal with MacDonalds to promote it.
Kwasi Kwarteng, aka Pennywise, was chased down a Whitehall street by a BBC reporter asking him a series of questions to which he first of all said ‘I’m not going to answer that’, and then decided silence was better. Better in the sense that he came across as the man, aka clown, who has no answers. That’s unfair on clowns, and probably pretty unfair on him. But not a good show on his part. Just as well I’m not a paying customer, although I think we will all pay in the end.
A police car zipped past the window late afternoon. Which was a bit surprising given the total absence of police anywhere normally within a 20 mile radius. At first I thought it might be a fancy dress party. But no. The front garden statue at number 30 had been beheaded in the night. I probably should have mentioned that they did not go for Michelangelos David, but a Greek/Roman nymph (so they told me later) that was also a water feature. It is now minus a head. I walked past later in the evening with the dog. To be honest it looked a bit modern arty and I couldn’t see what the problem was. Anyway, the head is missing. I thought of Angela’s brother and decided best not to say anything to anyone. And anyway, I couldn’t really imagine him in the dead of night, dressed in camo gear, nimbly crawling thru the dahlias and making off with the head. He is rather large and walks with a stick (or two). I wonder if a ransom note will be sent.
And talking of headless wonders, the Duke of Norfolk has been banned from driving for some trifling misdemeanour, running a red light, cutting up a police car and using his phone, all at the same time. He said he was planning the king’s funeral, sorry coronation (not whilst driving I should add) and that a driving ban would cause him terrible hardship. Some people have such a hard life. Fucking dick, not my words, those of Angela’s brother, who popped back later in the evening and left carrying an oddly head shaped package.
So called independent republics in Ukraine voting to join Russia.
Labour Party conference has begun. Press full of Labour confidence about forming the next government. Well, they are hardly likely to say they are not confident about winning, ‘hey, vote for us because we are losers’ is not a great campaign slogan. And speaking of losing, where is Jeremy Corbin these days? Fucking dick, yes, those are my words.
One Pagers 