As predicted elsewhere by me...Boris "the cock" Johnson, my bete noir, will leave in a helicopter. From a roof. Of a building he has been chased up. His last words being, "Helicopter. Roof. Now".

Sometimes it looks like everyone around is losing their head, or we seem to have more than our fair share of arseholes dominating the scene, no one is interesting anymore. No escape from the insane and inane. The energy sucking conts the world over. Boring boring boring. Now there is a three word slogan! We are in the Boring Straits! Then you hear these little snippets of news that refresh your soul and energise your mind. We live near the Pyrenees, the Spanish bit, ( the sunny side), a town at the foothills. There are all these ancient mountain passes waiting to be explored. Ancient routes trampled and rambled on in all sorts of situations. Smugglers routes, paths that helped people escape or do trade, take their herds, you get the picture. Well, French couple who live here, who are in their seventies, are planning to visit one of their daughters in France. They have decided to walk and take a donkey with them, to carry the suitcases. Watch this space!!

Students are always worried their English is not good enough. They worry about their pronunciation, their emails, their listening skills etc, but quite often they worry no one will understand them and I ask them "have you listened to the drivel that comes out of the mouth of the British Prime Minister?" I can hardly hold him up as an example on how to speak the language. The man is a bloody idiot. I am surprised he has lasted so long to be honest. So much for an Eton education. If I were his parents I would ask for my money back. #youprobablythinkIvoteLabour.

You think you know someone part 987 in a series of what? Eight? Anyway, Mother this time. ( She deserves capitals!!) That time she was trained by the Mossad.  She's elderly now and I am guessing if anyone who doesn't know her overhears her say something about that time they will just think she is crazy. Well thank God I listened and wrote it all down.....

You think you know someone Part 459 in a series of ten....This time husband. About that time he had a KGB handler called Johnny! 

Spain still has tobacconists. They sell cigars, fags, rolling tobacco and lottery tickets. When you walk in there is often a girl carrying a tray like they used to in cinemas carrying cigarettes, and other paraphernalia. These young women ask you, as you walk in the door, " are you a smoker?", " eres fumadora?, and I say, " no, I'm a gambler", soy apostadora", although I often forget and say I am an "apuestadora", which is incorrect and probably comes out a bit like "I am a bettererer/gamblererer". Then they fill my pockets with lighters I will never use that end up in a cupboard that runs the risk of bursting into flames every summer. Anyway, the bit I am getting at is I have a bet on Italy to win. I don't really care about sports unless I am betting or it involves champagne or some kind of velocity. Otherwise I get bored. I once went to an Arsenal match and kept cheering on the other team only because I was happy someone had scored, much to the annoyance of the Arsenal fans around me. If Italy wins I will be happy because of the bet, and because I love Italy, but also because I really do not want to listen and see those we do not mention, pretending to like football and be the biggest fans of England just because they think it will win hearts and minds cos it won't, and also, the people who normally hate the England flag pretend they love it just for today. If England win, I will lose the bet but I will be happy for the fans and especially the players as they, apart from playing well, seem like a decent bunch of men. The phonies and imposters can all go and f#ck themselves. 

Breaking news. You know, the one I read so you don't have to. A lighter note. So you don't all get depressed. To give a sense of balance and reality. Ok, get the f#ck on with it. What now? Well, I guess it ties in with #meatgate, AKA #carnegate. The Spanish news that some ministers including the prime one have had a bit of a to do owing to one of them suggesting we all cut down on our meat consumption. Not one to let it lie I found out today that not far from here a member of the ovine family, a sheep, an oveja, fell three metres with some plastic netting wrapped round its neck. Some locals tried to help but alas had no feckin' clue as to how to release the poor creature and had to resort to calling the Guardia Civil. Being the experts in these things they had a special knife, (of course they did!), the one normally used for cutting police cordons and liberated the animal which promtly ran up a slope to be, and I quote, " reunited with his flock who were meandering in a meadow nearby". Life is beautiful.

Afternoon comrades. Here is the dilemma. Shared by millions around the planet. The inability to travel and visit family. Everyone stuck somewhere. How long can we go on for? My case is the UK. At the moment it looks like a petri dish. An experiment with the public health. Especially young people and children. From here it looks like the British government is going to open up everything, leave it to the public to decide if they want to wear a mask and perhaps 'let it rip through' or 'take it on the chin' and wait and see how thousands of people cope when they catch the virus. Many won't even know they have it. Others will be ill and who knows how many will go on to suffer from the sequelas, the after effects, AKA Long Covid. So what then? You must go people say. Of course I must go. If I don't go this summer when? I have had both vaccines. I downloaded the Covid passport app on my phone. You know, the European one. I thought that this would be OK as it is valid throughout the EU but so far not the UK. This means I will have to get three PCRs each, for me and my husband and then quarantine for five days I believe. Brits coming back from Spain from their holidays won't have to but we will. I guess those pounds need to keep kerchinging into the pockets and accounts of the pigs with their snouts in the trough. Curse them all. They are going straight to hell and will probably enjoy it. Lost causes. It is not up to me to save them from selling the souls they are unaware they have.  Behind the scenes, the scenes that are the reality for so many, there is a campaign and right now Grant Schnapps, the secretary of State for Transport is getting it in the neck from voters of all political persuasions. Ben Bradshaw the Labour Shadow Secretary of State for Media, Culture and Sport is on to this as well. Yet it seems for now I will have to agree with the actor Ray Winstone on all this testing lark. As he said, "I liked to get kissed while I am being fucked"

Lord John Kilclooney, former MEP, Crossbench life peer from Northern Ireland, who has been sitting on his fat arse in the House of Lords since 2001, tweeted that the Spanish football team didn't sing the lyrics to the Spanish national anthem, failing to realise that there are no lyrics to the Marcha Real. Lord Kilclooney has a face that ought to be on my list of Rate My Plate. Men, usually British who have a porcine look about them. Anyway, it's a little known fact but I was asked to write the lyrics to the Spanish national anthem. They went like this, " que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no, que no.....(pause)....que no, que no...(again in the same way, for ever)

https://www.thelondoneconomic.com/politics/there-are-no-words-former-mep-blasts-spanish-for-not-singing-national-anthem-280209/?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=sfeu&fbclid=IwAR3sRtnY4pXTNDXC98zqxzqsCgEY0gwloENHyLXXWqp5DUf-HA9wnE4pD0M

I'D RATHER BE "WOKE" THAN "THE JOKE".

Priti Patel. Who? You know, politician. Self identifies as Nurse Ratched and Tommy Robinson. Criticised the England football team for taking the knee. She said it was, "gesture politics". When asked if England fans had the right to boo the players when they took the knee she said, "that's a choice for them quite frankly." The usual disingenuous reply politicians are the masters of. Now she tweets, "What a performance! What a team! #It'sComingHome! Well, actually she wrote #ItsComingHome but let's not get all pedantic over the grammar in case she accuses us all of being intolerant bastards. Meanwhile Johnson stands on the Saint George cross flag probably to wipe his feet on just before he enters number 10. It's fascinating watching them pretend they have feelings and abilities that others have. Bunch of phonies. Difficult to warm to them. 

#youprobablythinkIvoteLabour