Our old pal Boris has been naughty again, this time insulting the inhabitants of Papua New Guinea by comparing them to Conservatives, or some such.
I left the following message for him on his blog. I hope you all have time to go over there and comfort him.
Boris, if you would like me to cover your journalistic duties while you are away apologising in the far east, just let me know. Usual rates apply. I would offer to cover your political duties as well, but regret I am not quite silly enough to pass for a Tory MP.
Next time, say something disparaging about north east Hampshire - Jane Austen being a tart for example - then you can call in for a cup of tea and a snack while you are on your apology tour. Provided, of course, that you bring Melissa along.
19 comments:
So, being called a conservative is considered an insult? But being called an old cabbage is not?
Interesting.
Pamela, old beetroot, you have so much to learn.
I only allow my husband to call me Old Beetroot. How dare you!
Well your husband, presumably, has seen your beatroot, whereas Vicus hasn't...at least he hasn't if he hasn't hacked your MySpace page yet.
Yep, Boris can say goodbye to the Papua New Guinean vote in Henley. I don't imagine he's all that torn up about it.
And FYI I have BEEN to the area. I was told that the archbishop (yes, they have one) was away visiting the "headman" of some of the outer villages. I asked, and it seems that "headman" refers to the man who has collected the most heads. I said "do they still do that?" and the nun I was talking to said, "Oh, they're very polite. They don't do it in FRONT of him!"
Raincoaster. I had no idea you had been to Henley. You could have dropped by to see me - I am only about an hour away. The practices that you describe are typical of the Tory voting constituencies in the south east of England, although here in north east Hampshire it is livers rather than heads that the headman of the village collects. He is not known as the 'liverman'; there is no need, he attaches the livers to his belt and you can hear him sloshing from 700 metres away.
Pamela, my dear old artichoke, I am so sorry to be pedantic (as you know it is not my nature), but do you mean that your husband is the only one allowed to address you with that endearment, or is addressing you with that loving little phrase the only thing that you allow him to do?
If the latter, then his life must be very dull. I suppose if he has lived for long in Seattle then there is little alternative to dullness.
Well what in God's name was the archbishop doing visiting a godforsaken place like Henley, though?
I can't go back there. The natives scare me.
I have to intercede here. Stop goading Pammy. It's upsetting me. And don't call her vegetable names either. You horrible man.
Go and intercede elsewhere, Tom, my relationship with my readers is very special, and not subject to your approval.
"my relationship with my readers is very special"
that's an understatement. a gross understatement. i think i need to lie down.
Vicus, my husband's life is anything but dull. And please don't apologize for you pendanticity (is that a word?) We expect it of you, my dear old spider monkey.
Tommy, my sweet, thank you for interceding on my behalf. Chivalry is not dead.
I wish I'd said that Pam.
You will FE, you will.
Gentlemen (I use that word loosely) can you leave your insults to the imaginary world of blogging, rather than carry them onto the cricket field? What Tom said to Vicus yesterday, after he'd run him out, would have shocked poor Pammy.
Look you people, this is my blog.
I do not take kindly to all and sundry coming over here and telling me what to do and how to behave.
Zoe, your feeble attempt at withering scorn is as effective as Belgian foreign policy.
Pam, conduct your teasing of poor old Tom elsewhere. He is a delicate flower, bereft of love, and it is not fair to raise his hopes in this way.
FE - whose side are you on?
Dave - you may be captain of the cricket team, and God bless you for that, but kindly leave cricket business on the cricket field. What Tom said, which I didn't quite catch (I am a member of your side after all) seemed to be a wise description of the state of the world from my perspective, and I would expect nothing less from him.
HEY! Howcum I got left out?
I'm going off to sulk now...
Raincoaster, you fail, miserably, to upset me. You are just too good natured.
The others try, and I humour them by feigning to be irked.
We're back to being irked again?
Listen vicus, my dear spider monkey, who says I'm teasing sweet Tommy?
Vicus, I'm merely an opportunistic lout. But, with all this talk about being irked, I must ask just how RAF groundcrew got dragged into this discussion in the first place . . . . oh, sorry, that's ERK.
And if Pam's running around exposing anyone's beetroot, that's just plain promiscuous.
Oh, and I forgot to mention. Mister Whippy wasn't displaying a stiffy - that was merely conic projection.
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