The Campsite Nazi

Dad was a camp site Nazi. It’s not something I hold against him, it’s a state of mind he developed to deal with children, adults and animals on camping grounds. I can’t remember when he became a Campsite Nazi, but it must have been around the time of the Welsh Holiday incident when he arranged… Continue reading The Campsite Nazi

My first kebab

We never saw Dad much when we were really young. He worked in London, left in his Capri (“Bodie and Doyle have one like this”) and was at the end of the M11 well before we got up for school. He came home late, after dark when we were in bed, usually after a few… Continue reading My first kebab

Four people who might actually give a shit about the royal baby

The honest cabbie fruit and veg bricklayer For some reason this person actually believes that the Royal family are looking out for them and their families in some form of all seeing religious benevolence. They live their lives in a Dads Army style fantasy where the Queen Mother is still alive and actually gives a… Continue reading Four people who might actually give a shit about the royal baby

5 steps to a disastrous experience with rentalcars.com

The car that we booked through rentalcars.com simply didn’t materialise at the airport in Kefalonia on 6th July 2013. We waited and waited but nobody appeared to “Meet and greet” us as promised. Just what you fucking well need isn’t it? Getting up at 4am with a hangover, getting on a flight and then standing… Continue reading 5 steps to a disastrous experience with rentalcars.com

Robert Runcie MC, Great Britain becomes a traitor

Robert Runcie spent his entire life serving Great Britain. During the second world war he saw action as a tank commander throughout Europe, demonstrating outstanding bravery on two occasions in March 1945 that would earn him the Military Cross. Despite heavy and sustained enemy fire the young Lieutenant ignored overwhelming danger and rescued a crew… Continue reading Robert Runcie MC, Great Britain becomes a traitor

A vote on Europe is the last thing we need

When it comes to ideas and interests in life, my teenage years seem have been the most formative, as they probably were with most people. During the 80s along with my brother and two friends I started riding my racing bike seriously, and with that came the obsessing over continental cycle racing. Not only was… Continue reading A vote on Europe is the last thing we need

The high street is dead, long live shopping

The hell of the high street. The high Street is an awful place, dirty and depressing, the standard council herringbone brickwork stained with spat out chewing gum, dog shit and human blood. I used to lay herringbone brickwork whilst the Fatty would sit watching in his BMW smoking Henri Wintermans, now I avoid herringbone like… Continue reading The high street is dead, long live shopping