Coming soon…

Well – here’s some news.
Ready?
Good.
In exactly one calendar month you will be able to get a copy of the next Misty book – In The Doghouse!
How about that then, eh?
Yay!
That’s the 28th of November then.
You can pre-order it now if you can’t wait.
On Amazon, see my author page (yes, I have one of those now), here’s the link http://amzn.to/2cQXKM7
Good or what?

And don’t forget that Dognapped! is in the final of The People’s Book Prize next year. Tell your friends so that they can read it and vote for it like you did.
You did vote, didn’t you.
Oh!
Well voting opens again in May next year, so put it in your diary.
It’ll be on Sky News.
Me and Kate, eating posh nosh down ‘the smoke.
We’ll bring you a doggie bag, o.k.

In fact, as a reminder, the third Misty book – On The Dog Walk! – will be released then just to give you a nudge.
I can’t say fairer than that, can I?
And the final is in July.

And here’s a preview of the cover of book 2.

cover-mock-up-copy

Yes, Ian’s done a great job again hasn’t he?
And I’ve seen the pictures for book 3!
No, you can’t see them yet!

I’ve got to have some secrets after all.
It adds to the suspense.

Asylum Seekers…

Well it’s getting close to the vote.
In or out of the asylum?

Now I know that in my recent blog, EU – the Hokey Cokey (it’s on this site somewhere) I did make the assertion that anyone who told you whether we were better off either in or out of the aforementioned institution was an idiot, because no one knows for sure. And I still hold to that view, none of us has a crystal ball after all, otherwise the bankers would be loading what’s left of our pension pots into the financial markets to make a quick buck whilst they thought we weren’t looking.

But, and I stress but, it is worth a snigger at some of the absurdity’s which have arisen while the lunatics have been running the show.

Mostly it can be summed up in one word.

Strasbourg.

O.k., not a word I grant you.

A name.

A name which ought to be writ large and illuminated in garish neon lights to highlight the shame that it heaps upon us all.

Strasbourg.

It was worth repeating.

Yes, the ignoble club formerly known as the EEC feels the need to up sticks from its spiritual home in Brussels to go and vote once a month in a different country.

Why?

Because France says so.

Those who say that we should stay because ‘we can change things from the inside,‘ should mark this well!

Now as everyone else knows, France is the biggest looney of the lot. If it can’t get it’s own way the default setting is to have a bit of a tantrum.

A hissy fit.

At least with Germany you know you’re in the same arena as the playground bully.

But France is different. It’s a bit sneaky. ‘Those little Englanders,‘ it whispers in the ear of anyone whose skirts it wants to hide behind – usually the Germans – ‘always causing trouble! If they want to leave why don’t they just bugger off and leave us to cuddle each other?‘ Although when Germany gets a bit too belligerent they hide behind our skirts and let us do the fighting – funny that!

And yet, here they are ripping us off with bloody Strasbourg. Do they think we haven’t noticed? According to which side you believe the figure is somewhere around £100 million per year. Perhaps a bit more, perhaps a bit less. Hey, it’s only loose change, eh? Or between 5-6% of the entire administrative budget to put it another way. And I thought that I was being extravagant getting in the car to go to the corner shop if it was raining!

Yes, as soon as the circus rumbles out of sight of the Belgian suburbs those crafty hoteliers from Europe’s second capital reverse their tariff boards hung by a piece of string next to the ‘VACANCY’ sign. Prices double immediately as do those in the surrounding shops, restaurants and brothels (well we all know politicians are partial to a good spanking by a dominatrix – not so much smugly superior as ugly posterior!)
Very nice for the economy, merci very much,‘ they shout from the Paris treasury as our taxpayer funded dosh piles up in the funny Monopoly money they invented a few years back.

By the way, we did well stopping out of that one. The Euro! Remember decimalisation and how we got ripped off in the early seventies? Prices more than doubled overnight while we were still counting on our fingers trying to work out how many new pence were in a shilling. Imagine that on a continental scale! Just ask the Greeks. Anyway I digress.

Europe prides itself on its empathy with the environment and is rightly concerned about the size of its carbon jackboot – sorry, footprint. I assume that means that the buildings in Brussels have not yet been fitted with the latest energy saving light bulbs, but those in Strasbourg have, which is why it makes so much more sense to pump all that Co2 into the atmosphere as they transfer operations. Although if that is the case it makes you wonder why they bother to go back again only a few days later.
A case of having ones cake and eating it, perhaps? Marie Antoinette would have been so proud!

All a bit tongue in cheek that.

Hey!

Only kidding, rest of Europe.

You know we can’t be serious when the majority party we’ve elected to your parliament is one we wouldn’t scrape off our shoe with a pointy stick over here.

Yes, you shafted us with straight cucumbers if you’ll pardon the expression, we gave you UKIP!

Seems like a fair trade agreement to me, how about you?

EU – the Hokey Cokey

EU – the Hokey Cokey

You knew there would be another blog along soon, didn’t you? Thought I’d give old WordPress another try out, so I’ll rehash this old thing as a trial foray into the blogosphere – you just know it’s bound to fail, don’t you?
Yes, normal service has been resumed as we consider one of the most important topics of our time, so sit up straight and pay attention.

The EU.

Just to show my impartiality on the subject (yeah, right!) we’re flying the Black Country flag at the top of the page, just in case you wondered what that was. Neutral see.

Anyway, let me repeat – The EU.

In?

Or out?

The answer my friend is blowing, not so much in the wind, but more through the tiny spaces between the ears of our elected representatives. Yes that’s what that strange whistling noise has been, it’s not interference on your t.v. madam!

It’s certainly put the cat amongst the pigeons hasn’t it?

There’s some of them on the left agreeing with some of them on the right to stay in.
On the other hand them on the right who want to opt out are cosying up to the lefties to whom they wouldn’t normally give the time of day.
So the rest of us might as well do the Hokey Cokey and turn around for all the good it will do.

‘They’re lying,’ scream the ‘ins’ about their opposite number, ‘It’ll cost a fortune to come out!’
Meanwhile the ‘outs’ are whinging, ‘It’ll cost a fortune to stay in, don’t listen to those nasty rotten fibbers,’ to anyone who’ll listen.
The trouble is the only ones listening are the idiots in the other camp and for them to hear the opposite point of view expressed with quite so much vitriol gets them a bit hot under the collar. Inevitably the game of comedy name calling spirals inexorably out of control, whilst the rest of us wonder how the hell we ever got into this mess in the first place.

In essence it boiled down to a vague idea by our own beloved Mr Churchill. Unable to quite believe that we’d actually won the war and probably deeply certain that we wouldn’t be able to pull off the same trick again he suggested that it might be a jolly idea if we all sang ‘Ging, Gang, Gooley,’ together around the camp fire the way that spiffing chaps do after a bout of the old Queensberry rules. (After all, we did seem to owe the guys across the pond an awful lot of money for all the nylons and candy they’d supplied since 1941 – so it might be handy to have a bit of a whip round with our new European chums).
Worryingly though, apart from a lot of gesticulating with two fingers poor Winny didn’t have much of a clue how to go about it.
Neither did the men from the ministry. The clubs that they used were old, set in their ways and full of overstuffed, careworn, leather wing-backed chairs. They didn’t have much of a stomach for any sort of new arrangement and so they left it to Johnny Foreigner to draw up the rules.

And so a few years later up trotted a European superstate, broadly based on the federalist goals of the very bounders that we’d beaten into submission only a few short years before. And lo and behold our old chum Mr De Gaulle wasn’t about to let us join in the fun. Having taken cover over at our house while we did the fighting on his behalf he suddenly forgot his manners.
It certainly wasn’t cricket, but it damn well was our ball and they couldn’t play unless they let us bat first.

So they did.

Out for a duck!

Bugger!

Essentially what happened next was that the ‘outs’ used to be the ‘ins’ and the ‘ins’ used to be the outs. There you are, European politics summed up in a nutshell. What had occurred as usual, was that our leader’s perceived view of public opinion appeared to swing against them and so they simply swapped coats. Nothing to do with the good of the country, more a question of maintaining their place at the top of the dung heap. Remember the old adage, ‘where there’s muck there’s brass’ – in the case of the Euro-gravy train there happens to be quite a lot of brass, courtesy of us poor citizens.

Politicians know Jack. That’s the lesson the rest of us learnt a long, long time ago.
Around the time of Simon de Montfort in fact.
And yes, I do know that many of you will say that our member (appropriately enough) of parliament works very hard on our behalf and perhaps that is true, But collectively? As much as they say they do know, the more it becomes apparent that their ambition is a good deal greater than their IQ. Listen to the weekly debacle PMQ’s if you doubt the truth of what I’m saying. You’d get more sense from your local nursery school.

Will we be better off out? No one knows and anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot.
Will we be better off in? No one knows and anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot.

Should we shake it all about? Probably, it’ll be so much more fun!

Next time I may discuss the geopolitical map – put on your tin hat for that one!

By the way, does anyone remember the words to ‘Ging, Gang, Goolie?’