I Told You I was Ill
Spike Milligan

Acutely hacked-off, that’s me. I have the flu or whatever it’s called and have spent a week going steadily downhill until I found my way into the doctor’s surgery along with all the other consumptives this afternoon.

This particular strain is one of the nastiest I have had in a couple of years and what’s more frustrating, is that with Christmas just around the corner, I’ve done zero shopping and have fallen behind with work and the office / house move as a consequence of being ill. Moving home and Christmas are incompatible and trying to get the new wireless ADSL, connection working is even worse.

BT are supposed to have switched me on from the exchange, at least in theory, according to my ISP but my router is showing ‘idle’, which leaves me wondering whether I’ve completely cocked-up the IP configuration or the simpler and more plausible explanation, BT haven’t thrown the switch yet.

We were supposed to have had Sky Digital reinstalled at the house on Wednesday. Two ‘installers’ appeared with a ladder just before 9AM but took umbrage at being asked to take their dirty boots off by my wife. Five minutes later, they disappeared, saying they could not find a signal in the rain and never came back. I guess you can only install Sky Digital in July then?

Funny thing I saw on the M23 on the way to London this week. There was the most horrendous traffic jam and the motorway was almost stationary for miles, which left me weaving my motorcycle between the cars and trucks, the only thing moving along the road, almost. The other was a group of Kurds or Iraqis perhaps. Disgusted at going nowhere in one of our great British traffic jams, they must have decided to hop out of the friendly truck that was carrying them and start walking along the hard shoulder towards the M25, moving faster than the traffic. Ironically, as I’ve mentioned before in this journal, seeing refugees between the M20 and the M23 is not unusual and is almost a regular occurrence. I wonder then how many are really filtering in to the country, as they aren’t so invisible to passers-by.

Finally, I’ve decided that as politics is the last refuge of the scoundrel, I’m going to throw my hat in the ring, so I’ve put my name forward for the Westminster list with the support of a Shadow Cabinet referee. You never know, I might even be selected to fight a seat one day and perhaps and only perhaps, I might be able to make a very small difference in resolving the politically-correct mess we find ourselves in as a nation before it reaches the point of no return.


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