Its Monday, in one of the world’s largest economies, yawning, I lean over for the newspapers, well some geezer claims to have had wild sex with someone else’s missus, she say No, he says ‘deed we did, ummm, this is headline news… moving on whilst stirring my oats, Ruth Kelly sending her kid to a private school, she is called a hypocrite, I do not see the point. She is a parent and Mom, she does what she thinks is best for her kids, got nothing to do with the rest of Britain, another national debate.. damn this country has issues, this is making me realise I did not add sugar to ma oats, looking for the bag, its not natural cane sugar I usually buy, then I remember, twas bought by the polish weekend occupant of my bed. I seem to draw Poles of late, need to change ma style.

Robbie Williams and Tara, who cares… and then the good one, smallest country for sale. I suddenly realise what made me come to the UK in the first place. The guy that owns the principality, Paddy Roy Bates, managed to ward off the Royal navy with a few blasts of his gun, that is brilliant stuff, Germany mercenaries passing as tourist kidnap his son for ransom, he does the double on them and holds them captive, it becomes a diplomatic calamity, the Germans want their citizens back, the British refuse to cooperate… I love this, for a Monday, English eccentricity has made ma day, all of a sudden, the country is not doomed. With people like this Prince, we can be able to fight the US attempts to profile us when we visit the US. Why cross the ocean when you can go to Essex and cross the sea to Sealand? And remember there will be no need to have your ten finger prints taken, the currency conversion rate is the same, and you can have fish and chips as well?
Back to my oats….