Battle, skirmish or all out War, those empty bottles have a score To settle with those enemies of you and me and our democracy. Because empty bottles are fighting men, who protect us all, again and again And depart the field not to a hero’s chant, and feast NOT in fancy restaurants. Awaiting him is no adulation, the best wishes of a grateful Nation Just a Badge he can wear in a Tesco’s queue. Just a Veterans Badge for a debt so huge.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Frank Feldman
Passenger: 'Who?'
Cabbie: 'Frank Feldman. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like my coming along when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank Feldman every single time.'
Passenger: 'There are always a few clouds over everybody.'
Cabbie: 'Not Frank Feldman. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy.'
Passenger: 'Sounds like he was something really special.
Cabbie: 'There's more... He had a memory like a computer, could remember everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank Feldman, he could do everything right.'
Passenger: 'Wow, some guy then.'
Cabbie: 'He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams. Not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake, and he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too - he was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.'
Passenger: 'An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?'
Cabbie: 'Well, I never actually met Frank. I just married his f*cking widow.'
With thanks of a friendlier man.
Thursday, 18 September 2008
Murder an Englishman and little happens.
This small town, where I was measure for and purchased my first ever Best Suit, has witnessed the most appalling travesty of justice for many years.
What will be done? Nothing.
This crime of hatred can only be a hate crime if it is perpetrated by the indigenous person against an immigrant, or so it now seems. These cold blooded killers should be joining the ranks of the martyrs and dispatched to their Heaven at the quickest possible moment, before they get more brazened and strap on body bombs and slaughter more people.
Monday, 15 September 2008
Friday, 12 September 2008
First Kiss?
Friday, 5 September 2008
Soldier refused room
|
Where not to stay.
Metro Hotel
Tel: 01483 727100
Fax: 01483 725064
Crown Square
Woking
Surrey
GU21 6HR