Orange President. Orange Prime Minister. We’ve been Tangoed.

To be Tangoed as the adverts used to go was to receive a shock to the system, often by a slap to the face. Which is exactly what Theresa May’s proposals for our future Government has been to the British electorate. You remember Donald Trump massaging his special relationship with Theresa? It was all hand over hand with the threat of a locker room grab to the nether regions hanging in the air. I’ve heard to brighten up her general death like demeanour he advised she should turn Orange like him…I’m not sure forming a government with The DUP was what he meant.

Watching the election results come in the other night was a bit like watching a game of Rugby. There’s a lot of stuff going on that we don’t all exactly understand. Then you get to the end asking, “Did we win? It looks like we won! How come the opposition are getting a penalty in the dying minutes? I THOUGHT WE WERE WINNING!”

I don’t ask much from my future government but I do think it a bit important they all believe Dinosaurs were real. The DUP are putting it lightly a bunch of creationist knuckle draggers. Their manifesto is essentially the Bible with the bins going out every fortnight. Anti LGBT, Climate change deniers, anti catholic. Brexit no longer seems to mean Brexit. Brexit means F**k the Pope. They actually believe the European Union was a Papal conspiracy. It seems the Romans are still very much a threat in their minds.

They’re not so keen on women’s rights either. They’re Anti abortion and believe public breastfeeding is an act of exhibitionism. Obviously putting on a bowler hat and a sash while a full brass band belts out sectarian anthems is the work of shrinking violets.

I can only describe May’s desperate cling to power via the DUP as sociopathic. This is a woman who cares not a jot for consequence as long as she still gets to sit at the top of the table. Watching Theresa May right now is like watching a fart trying to be heard in a hurricane. Flailing around in her MayBot way chanting “Strong and Stable” as her programmers try desperately hard to try and figure out to make her user friendly. It’s impossible. She doesn’t like people. Her alliance with the DUP is actually illegal in regards to the terms of the Good Friday Agreement. A pact for peace in Ireland that the DUP refused to sign. It is also a threat to that peace and should be fought against at every turn over the coming weeks. Perhaps if we’re really nice to them Sinn Fein might choose to take up their seats in parliament and we can redress the balance. Jeremy Corbyn will drag us back to the 70s they cried. Well that doesn’t seem as bad as going back to the 1690s.

However this doesn’t mean all is lost. The exact opposite in fact. I’ve been a supporter of Jeremy Corbyn since before he was elected leader of the Labour Party. I always believed if we got his name on the ballot paper then his policies would chime with the electorate. I believed this because of what the SNP achieved in Scotland and think we owe them a decent nod for bringing compassion back into mainstream politics. The Tory smear campaign against Corbyn in the election was abhorrent. To attempt to label a decent man as a terrorist sympathiser while we were under attack from terrorists was below the lowest of the low. However now that the Tories are having to for a Government with the DUP…well these accusations seem to have…ahem…blown up in their faces. I really did enjoy the Tweet from the Police Federation page that said, “It’s not the amount of MPs you have Theresa it’s what you do with them. You have to do more with less.” How poignant.

For now Corbyn and the SNP wait in the wings. They look like they’re going to play the long game. I don’t think the changes that are coming are some kind of a flash in the pan either. If you look at what’s happening globally voices of the left are coming in from many areas. I think the changes that are coming to this island will be as seismic as the changes Thatcher ushered in and will probably last as long.  The future’s bright, the future is NOT Orange.

 

Populism (A very short and rather basic poem)

POPULISM (A very short poem)

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite.

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite.

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite.

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite.

I’m neither left nor right just full of shite.

Repeat until elected…

 

Cat In The Hat I Do Not Like Trump

CAT IN THE HAT DONALD TRUMP

I do not like him or his hair

I do not like his angry glare

Or riding on a Camel hump

I do not like that Donald Trump

 

I do not like his orange face

His policies are a disgrace

I do not like his suit and tie

I do not like his beady eyes

He’s about as smart as Forest Gump

I do not like that Donald Trump

 

I do not like his fascist chums

And his crazy views on the Muslims

I do not like his tiny hands

I do not like for what he stands

I do not like the things he says

Or where on women his hand lays

He is the chief of all the chumps

I do not like that Donald Trump.

 

I do not like his Mexican wall

To make them pay takes some gall

He moans about the fake news

I hope it’s giving him the blues

You can only ask him stuff he likes

Just like Hitler and his Third Reich

Get rid of him I do beseech

This president we should impeach

With climate change he’ll do the trees in

He’s not afraid of committing treason

In the bin he should be dumped

I do not like that Donald Trump.

 

I do not like his nuclear expansion

While living in a gilded mansion

He’s got his hand upon the button

His face is like a cut of mutton

I do not like his Stepford wives

Just look at her she has no live

This man child he is a bully

A simpleton with brain so woolly

This bad man he is a racist

He sees the colour in our faces

He treats women like they are strumpets

He grabs a leg and then he’ll hump it

This planet really took a slump

When they elected Donald Trump.

 

A Christmas message for the generation of the self.

Christmas is coming. But please remember there are people less fortunate than you. And there’s a good reason for that, it’s because you’re better than them! Fuck em! Homeless types are in that situation because they bring it on themselves. How dare they put us on guilt trips as we have to step over them during the sales. Same goes for the unemployed. What’s wrong with an 80 hour week on a zero hours contract? If you don’t want to do it I’m sure we can get some child from the Eastern bloc who’ll be more than happy on £2.50 an hour.

So stuff your face and spend thousands on bling, blood diamonds are probably best for profit margin. Up yours Jesus. Anyway Jesus hated the poor didn’t he? There was that time he cured the cripple. He said, “take up thy bed and walk. you’ve been declared fit for work you scrounging bastard” And as for May and Joseph…what you think we’re paying bedroom tax so you can just freeload for the night! That’s what we believe the rest of the year. So why change all that just because it Christmas? Why spoil 30 years of the self just because of some foggy minded Christian values. Hail Thatcher.

The Election of Mr D. Trump

 

Chomsky in 2010:

“The United States is extremely lucky that no honest, charismatic figure has arisen. Every charismatic figure is such an obvious crook that he destroys himself, like McCarthy or Nixon or the evangelist preachers. If somebody comes along who is charismatic and honest this country is in real trouble because of the frustration, disillusionment, the justified anger and the absence of any coherent response. What are people supposed to think if someone says ‘I have got an answer, we have an enemy’? There it was the Jews. Here it will be the illegal immigrants and the blacks. We will be told that white males are a persecuted minority. We will be told we have to defend ourselves and the honor of the nation. Military force will be exalted. People will be beaten up. This could become an overwhelming force. And if it happens it will be more dangerous than Germany. The United States is the world power. Germany was powerful but had more powerful antagonists. I don’t think all this is very far away. If the polls are accurate it is not the Republicans but the right-wing Republicans, the crazed Republicans, who will sweep the next election.”

 

There are no words from me today…Instead to brighten your day….

meme-101

 

 

 

 

John Gets Mad. Bi-Polar Tales 2. Introductions and so who’s really mad?

Here’s another part of a new stand up show I’m putting together on mental health…

I was actually really reluctant to do this at first because unlike physical disability mental health still carries a lot of stigma. Mind you we’re getting to a stage now where comedy audiences at least are starting to go, “Oh…another Bi-Polar comedian…that’s original.”

It’s fair to say there are a few of us out there. I was thinking of gathering us all together, forming a jazz band and calling ourselves Mood Swings.

I actually get quite jealous of the physically Disabled. They get an entire Olympics. We get a Stephen Fry documentary every ten years.

When Stephen did that first documentary on Bi-Polar. I watched it and was gobsmacked to see we both had the same psychiatrist. I though, “Well I’ve not had his comedy career, but when it comes to shit mental health I’m up there with the elites.”

I do love the Paralympics and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on at times. One night I tuned in I genuinely thought they were having a three legged race. It turned out to be the blind sprinting. They have a guide running beside them. One guy was actually disqualified because the guide was hauling him along. Mind you he was strapped to Usain Bolt. Poor guy was screaming “Help! I think I’ve be tied to a Cheetah.”

Saying that, those guys don’t get it easy either. Now that the Paralympics is over I’m sure they’ve all been declared fit for work and sent to do time in some Mike Ashley style workhouse.

My Bi-polar is a bit different from Stephen Fry’s. He’s Bi-Polar Two I’m Bi-Polar One. Not that I’m saying here…Hey! My Bi-Polar is better than yours. Mines has gold epaulettes, brass buttons and is here to save the planet. Although being the centre of the world is a common delusion of BP 1. It’s not until the finally get you into a psyche ward that you realise, “The Masons are after me.” is quite a common delusion among the mentally ill. Which initially doesn’t help. “What is this place? They’ve managed to catch you as well? Is this some kind of holding facility for those that know the truth?”

You meet people with other mental illnesses as well. I feel for the schizophrenics. Bi-Polar is quite trendy now but those guys get bad press. Sadly it’s a condition where very rarely AND IT IS VERY RARE something bad happens and someone gets hurt. Saying that if Katie Hopkins is ever to go on QI could we maybe get the Yorkshire Ripper as guest host.

Those guys have auditory hallucinations. They hear voices. That must be absolutely awful. What gets me is the voices seem to tell them to do bad things like kill the neighbours. Why do they never say sensible things like, “Hey, maybe it’s time you tidied the house….Feeling a bit anxious? Perhaps you should give your mum a phone…or hey this is God. Have you ever thought about switching to a cheaper energy supplier.”

But you tell me…Who’s really mad. Those with delusions in a made up world or those with delusions in the real world? That’s right we’re about to make someone like Donald Trump the most powerful man on the planet. He shows all the characteristics of a psychopath and you folks think that’s a vote winner. People were surprised recently when he showed some concern for Hilary Clintons health. Yeah but we never saw that on camera. He issued a statement. I can guarantee there was some fucker putting a gun to his head going, “Just say the fucking words on the paper.”

We have our own deluded type in this country. The Working class Tory. What the fuck is that? You know what that is…remember those missionaries who used to head up the jungle, meet a tribe of cannibals and go Hey we’ve got some new friends and they’ve invited us to dinner. All the time not realising they’re on the fucking menu. That’s what a working class Tory is.

So you tell me. Who’s mad?

 

Scene from a play. (I/Mmature student 4.)

I imagine I’ll regret posting early stabs at stuff up here as things go on. Bugger it. We’ve been asked to write our first wee scene. We were given this start… 

A man enters and finds a letter. He opens the letter, reads it and tears it into little pieces, then leaves.

And then to develop some physical action to follow this and then to produce a scene. I admit this is a bit hack and obvious but hey it’s also about having fun. Any resemblance to real life characters is purely coincidental. Oh and one other thing if you want to see me live I’m hosting Stand Up for Corbyn at The Tyne Theatre Newcastle tonight.

THE CLEANER.

Scene  1.

A man enters and finds a letter. He opens the letter, reads it and tears it into little pieces, then leaves.

A woman then enters. She is cleaning. On the wall are two paintings, one of Winston Churchill and one of Margaret Thatcher. She dusts the Churchill then blows a raspberry and makes a rude gesture towards the Thatcher leaving it uncleaned. She then finds the letter and starts to piece it back together.

Mrs Ribble.  Ee…Someone’s not popular. There must be about two thirds of that shower asking for his resignation. Shower o’ shite the lot of em.

The man re-enters. He finds the cleaner with the letter.

Mr Radisson.   Err…hello. Are you the new cleaner? You really shouldn’t be reading that you know.

Mrs Ribble.     Divin’t worry pet. Your secret’s safe with me. Ah haven’t got that git from the papers lodging in me spare room to cover that friggin’ tax o’ theirs.

Mr Radisson.   You mean Rupert Murdoch?

Mrs Ribble.     No the one that does the gossip column. Piers…something…Anyway he’s gone right doon in my estimation since he was hacking all them phones. How dare they, and Hugh Grant was such a gentleman aboot it all.

Mr Radisson.   Yes but I really must stress the severity of this. If one word gets out…err…Mrs, Ms?

Mrs Ribble.     Ribble. Like rabble but with an ibble as opposed to an abble.

Mr Radisson.   Well Mrs Ribble I really can’t emphasise enough how what you’ve read mustn’t be spoken of outside this room. I have to prepare a statement in response. You do realise this is what we call a political coup? There’s every bit of a chance I might not even be in this office this time next week.

Mrs Ribble.   It must be hard…

Mr Radisson. It was expected. You see I’m trying to take the party back to…

Mrs Ribble.     No I mean on your feelings. It must be hard on your feelings. There’s a lot of people on that list I’m sure you regarded as friends and yet here they are putting the knife in. That must be hard. I reckon a lot of folks don’t really see you as a real person. Just another face off telly. To tell you the truth Mr Radisson I’ve never really been interested in the world of politics but that was because the world of politics was never really interested in me. But then you arrived and I thought you had some nice ideas. I’d like cheaper trains. I have to get the train here every day and it costs a bloody fortune. It’s no wonder they’re called Virgin ‘cos no bugger wants to ride on them. (LAUGHS)

Mr Radisson. (LAUGHS) Oh that really is quite good…

Mrs Ribble.   Ee maybes you could use it at the next Prime Ministers question time.

Mr Radisson. Well… perhaps not. Look, Mrs Ribble that really was the kindest thing I’ve had said to me in months.  I am a person and yes this betrayal is causing all sorts of pains. These ideas of mine aren’t new, if anything they’re quite old fashioned. They’re what this party is supposed to stand for. However much a brave face I put on this I really am not sure this is a fight I can win. Too many of own party have a lot to lose.

Mrs Ribble.     Well I for one hope you take them on and fight this oot. And there’s a lot of folk feel like me aboot you. You’re a proper fresh breath ye are. If it helps there’s a saying we have in my family, I don’t know if it’s become popular, but we say it a lot. It goes, Divin’t let cunts put ye in a mincer.

Mr Radisson.   Err…I think that might be, don’t let the bastards grind you down.

Mrs Ribble.     Trust me pet. I know what I mean. My husband came up with it after he saw that film Frago.  Anyhoo I best get on. I’ve got a pile of overtime on since we did a Brexit. Most of the other cleaners have buggered off back to where they come from. And who can blame them! (LAUGHS)

Mrs Ribble exits leaving Mr Radisson in contemplation.

An open letter to Richard Branson and his trains (Renationalise the railways)

 

I travel on British trains a lot. I reckon trains in India are better. We have the worst and most expensive service in Europe.  

The east coast line went back into public ownership and became the most efficient and profitable in the country. But we can’t be having that. Where is the sense in customer care. But panic not we managed to get rid of all that by selling it back to Richard Branson.

He actually has a sign on these cattle trucks that asks How are we doing? and an address to send your thoughts to him….So here’s the letter I wrote.

HOW AM I DOING.

Dear Richard Branson I thought I’d just send a quick note in regards to your question how am I doing? Well I’m afraid the answer’s not very good. I’m not sure where to start on this subject but let’s first go with the often overwhelming stench of unprocessed shit that often tickles my nostrils when traveling on your bovine Cowperson express.

How can we explain to you that it takes more than an egg cup full of water to flush a toilet that has been blocked since Newark Northgate?

It’s not all bad news though as I’ve discovered a fitting revenge to this situation when passing through Grantham the birth place of Margaret Thatcher and spiritual mother to pus ridden colossal greed juggernauts like your good self.

As soon as your train pulls into Grantham station I take great delight in running through it and flushing every toilet IN THE STATION. Thus depositing the pungent effluent of two generations of an exploited, tyrannized and quite frankly totally constipated work force. Try leading the masses by the nose after that one you creepy haired cat wanker.

If somehow I manage to work up an appetite on your defecation express can I please point out that not even NASA have figured out how to make a cheese and ham toastie in a fucking microwave.

The fact that this service costs £132.00 to go from Newcastle to London and is often so overcrowded I’ve seen people pass out yet still remain upright, packed in like Scousers at a Poundland sale, is yet another moot point. This should be enough reason to have you put on one of your new space shuttles on a one way trip to the moon.

I can’t believe you actually think we want to go into space with you? The toasties would be even worse and there would be shit floating everywhere!

Personally I would like to beat you to death with bags of your own money.

I’ll tell you this sir your trains are well named Virgin because nobody wants to ride on them.

Yours the customer.

Former “in” Bellybutton now supports “out”

A bellybutton who was a longstanding supporter of in, or as they are known commonly an “innie” has now declared to be a supporter of out, also known as an “outie”

When questioned on why they had changed their stance they remarked “I would like to clear up a few myths about being out of the main part of the body. Just because I am out this does not mean  the brain will decamp to Frankfurt. Nor will the bottom lose it’s subsidies. It’s also ridiculous to say that a bellybutton exit or Bexit as we now call it  will damage the genitals “special relationship” with the U.S. As for all this scaremongering that the bottom would be more susceptible to terrorist attacks… well that’s just below the belt scaremongering.”

When also asked if this new stance was perhaps a bid to gain the leadership of the backbone at the next election the bellybutton had this to say. “It would be a wonderful thing to be the backbones leader. It is at least five years away which is an aeon in the body politic, by which time whatever my personal ambitions may be, there will be competition from young thrusting body parts both male and female who will be overtaking me so who knows.  As I’ve said many, many times before that it’s more likely that I will be reincarnated as an olive or shoved back in by a champagne cork or Unscrewed entirely resulting in the bum falling off.”

More recently the bellybutton has caused controversy by accusing the arms and legs of goose-stepping in a fashion similar to the Nazis.

The question of in or out still remains on a knifes edge.