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

Boy racers are idiots?

I’d always been of the opinion that blokes who drove about in tarted up hatch backs were idiots. Spotty cap wearing hood rats who tear about any suburban town centre in under powered cars, those originally designed for their mothers to park on the zigzags during the school run. It’s true to say that most… Continue reading Boy racers are idiots?

Why I hate Movember

This is the time of year that we are supposed to be reflecting what the generations that went before us gave in our time of need. Maybe thinking about the ramifications and horrors of war, conflict and strife. Not necessarily strutting the poppy whilst looking miserable or giving it the big one at the local… Continue reading Why I hate Movember

The Party Prince

I’ve often thought of the Royal Family in this country as a West End show. The West End show. Overly colourful adverts at every bus stop and full page ads in the tabloid of choice, all topped off with five star recommendations from the idiot Saturday night cockney. Every one the greatest, the best, the… Continue reading The Party Prince