December 12, 2007
Mr Brooooon And His Very UnMerry Jaw Tick can at least console himself with something: He is achieving the near impossible - continually using his fat dour Scottish arse to crack down through his own pitiless nadir to discover, horrifyingly, yet another.
Now the police, of all people, want to strike, such is their (natural) disgust at being promised a backdated pay rise to September and then having it withdrawn by the clearly useless and indeed rudderless Home Secretary, Jacqui Smith.
So his Chancellor (after the PM, the most important Goverment role) is a puppet. As is the Home Secretary (number 3); as is Defence (a split role with Scooooottish Secretary, seeing as we're only at war with two countries); and all the rest of them.
Not everyone likes the police, I know, and everyone's got a horror story about them being late/not turning up/not catching the bad guys.
I understand that.
Believe me, so do they.
But they're still the very first ones we call when the shit hits the fan, though.
And they're not the ones who change the rules on how they behave, remember.
It's the Brooons, the Blairs, the Blunketts, the Howards, the Straws. All of whom spent their entirely publicly spirited minds making a fucking fortune in courtrooms or tucking councillors' "expenses" into their bottomless pockets.
Not a single last one of them has ever arrested a man.
The cops of course can be hapless; as can bankers (Northern Rock), bloggers (Nick 
) and builders (any of the twats). We're all fallible (apart from me).
But on that basis alone, I hope our Broon coven gets broken into tonight. Then we'll see how much they appreciate the people who do what they won't.