London – a place where mammon meets government, art meets youth, and the engine of modern day Britain thrives on reclaimed social wasteland – a City now governed by an exuberant, ebullient and eternally eccentic Etonian… the template of future direct rule from Notting Hill and the resurgent Tories who, without revealing any detailed policy(ies), have attracted, possibly, new voters from a people, a nation, in the process of being broken on the wheel of oil prices, food prices, bank charges, falling house prices, credit-crunch and financial armageddon. (For those of you with a taste for Greek: αρμαγεδδων). The Thirteen horsemen from Eton are coming… it is no longer ‘if’… it is ‘when’ they will come…..
I just thought I would try my hand at a bit of hyperventilating political schmolitical hyperbole before the Sunday papers arrive on our butler delivered breakfast trays tomorrow.
SEVERE WEATHER WARNING FROM THE MET OFFICE: BANK HOLIDAY SPECIAL
“The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and terrible day of the TOFF-MEISTER comes.’
I like a bit of Revelations
The rains are coming… and the march of change is upon us all. Have a good Bank Holiday… I cannot say it will be our last £1.35 per litre for petrol bank holiday, because of the new Consumer Protection Regulations coming into force on Monday. Nostradamus…. “You’re nicked, mate.”
I have not revealed this before, although if you were ‘one of us’, to coin a rather unfortunate New Labour electioneering phrase, you would have known – but in addition to blogging, I am a professional soothsayer, relic seller, medium and fortune teller, regulated by Ofsooth. This new consumer protection legislation has wrecked my retirement plan to go on a cruise liner in two months time and talk compassionately to coffin dodgers about what…. ‘life has in store’ and sell them life insurance (with free carriage clock – so they can see the hours counting down, presumably). I mean… I’m a regular sort of a fortune teller and soothsayer and… I like to give people hope with a bit of hyperbole… and help them talk to old friends who ‘have gone over to the other side’ and are now voting for the Toff-Meister. I can’t do that now without handing them a leaflet stating clearly: “My glimpse into your future Is for entertainment only” and not “experimentally proven”.
I’ll find something else to do in my retirement… don’t worry about me…