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
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 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
I love this time of year, and for me music plays a huge part in the wanton overindulgence that is Christmas. Next week I’ll be blogging a list of my favourite Christmas songs. Until then, and in no particular order here’s a list of my worst. They can be heard here on Open Spotify. 1)… Continue reading Christmas songs – The worst
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?
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
This has been bothering me for a while, about ten years, a few months ago being bothered turned into guilt. It’s Phil Collins. Like a lot of young people in the 90s I was consumed with musical snobbery, and to a certain extent I still am. In public I’d only admit to liking anything on… Continue reading Phil Collins. Awful music, but a bad person?
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
It didn’t seem to matter that Victoria Pendleton only won a single gold medal in her last competition. The championed Golden Girl of British cycling appeared indifferent, all the hard work had been done and she’d managed to put in a good show at the end of a fantastic sporting career. All that was left… Continue reading Goodbye Victoria Pendleton
I love Christmas, always have done. I can remember vividly getting worked up into a frenzy as Christmas came closer, school finished and family started to congregate in houses far too small for the purpose. Looking back, it was all about the build up as the day itself was always, for some reason or another,… Continue reading The ghost of Christmas past.