Cretins, Crisps and Cover Boys
I can understand people finding Boris Johnson amusing since he appears to have escaped from the pages of a P. G. Wodehouse novel. But some of the other claims being made for him are baffling.
A 'great communicator'? This is a man whose reply to a question usually starts: 'Er...er...well.....um...yes..er...er...er...' The last time he was on 'Question Time' he had no idea what the first question was about, even though it had been all over that week's papers.
Able to 'connect with young people'? Precisely what proportion of the country's youth identify with a bumbling, right-wing Old Etonian called Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson? Presumably the same proportion that have posters of the Prince of Wales on their bedroom walls.
Great excitement in the Lupin household this week. Our free Walk-O-Meter arrived from Walkers Crisps. This is what used to be called a 'pedometer'. One possible reason for re-naming it is to avoid stupid people thinking it's a device to detect paedophiles. (A paediatrician was driven from her home by a baying mob, so you can't be too careful).
Anyway, our excitement has quickly cooled. Carlo the houseboy used it this morning to time my boiled egg, with disastrous results, and has been given another verbal warning. Then I read the small print which said it would only be reasonably accurate if walking at a constant speed on level ground without any sudden stops or vibrations. But this corner of Middle England is very hilly. So I can probably only use it on a Sunday morning to go the newsagents, when no juggernauts are causing earth tremors of 2 - 3 on the Richter scale, and so long as I don't stop to talk to Mrs Skidmore about her rheumatoid arthritis on the way. In other words, it's about as much use as a one-legged man at an arse-kicking party.
This blog will endeavour to be a Christmas-free zone. But I felt I had to share the Maplins Electronics catalogue that fell out of my newspaper. Has the phrase 'as camp as Christmas' ever been given such vivid visual expression?
What the hell is going on here? This is a catalogue full of laddish goodies like Air Power Shooting Galleries and remote control cars. So is it what advertising people call 'contra-stereotypical marketing'? Or are they chasing the pink market for their DIY products, having fallen for the guff that all gay men are interior design fanatics? Or maybe it was just the result of the marketing department having a long working lunch in the pub. Whatever the reason, I should warn you that the cover boy pictured pops up throughout the catalogue excitedly fondling various electronic devices (but no, not those) and, most disturbingly, brandishing a power drill with a psychotic leer on his face. It's the scariest thing I've seen since Richard Hillman in Coronation Street appeared in Maxine's living room with a baseball bat and despatched her to the green room in the sky.