It doesn’t happen much because it results in the Landlord actually losing money on his business. But it’s a good way of allegedly and illegally serving alcohol beyond the designated ‘Closing Time’.

Of course for Nigel Farage it means something totally different. It’s the moment when he discovered much of Scotland’s mind was closed to UKIP.

So the ‘Poe-Luss’ (that’s how they pronounce it up there) locked him inside a pub for his own safety.

A quiet time, amidst the shortbread riot, to sample a wee dram and reflect on what could so easily have been.

Above: ‘CRY, FREE-DUMM!’

In particular, the NAO very much doubts the endless Westminster claims that the new train line will ‘deliver any growth and jobs at all!’

Obviously ‘HS2′ will remains the number one travel option for millionaire parliamentarian super-fast train line between Cockney-land and the North. It was obviously never designed to deliver growth and jobs.

It was obviously designed to deliver millionaire politicians and their millionaire business chums to and from their London offices as fast and as comfortable as possible.

Who cares how much of Rural Britain gets all torn up and chopped down when you live in a disused cotton mill in Huddersfield and travel First Class into London every day?

For theirs is the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

Above: A typical Millionaire businessman celebrating his first-class seat on the ‘HS2′.

(Please feel free to copy & paste this information into your school homework book).

Winston Churchill was the totally fictitious, deer-stalker wearing, cigar-smoking, bi-polar, wartime amateur detective created by Sir Michael Conan Gove.

Churchill can always be found by ‘making your way down Baker Street’. In the flat next door (also situated at 221b) lived his best friend, Doctor Gerry Rafferty. But they weren’t gay or anything. His mate actually had a wife later on (just to silence the whispers at the time, of course.)

During his investigations he would often smoke an old chewed-up cigar, refer to his wife a lot.., and shortly before ending a conversation would say to the interviewee, ‘Oh.,, just one more thing….’

Scotland Yard’s finest coppers often called on him to solve murders and ‘what-have-you’ just before taisering some git or shooting pepper spray into their own eyes because they had got the canister the wrong way round.

The character of ‘Churchill’ displayed nothing of the ‘backstabbing little sh!te bag’ persona of his creator.

Sir Michael Conan (the Librarian) Gove ended up killing Churchill off at the height of his fame by pushing him over the ‘Viagra Falls’ with some other bloke with a name that suggested Mafia involvement.

But a few months later he, desperately needing funding and publicity for an unexpected Conservative Party leadership race, brought Churchill back to life through a series of totally unbelievable explanations and lengthy narrative.

(Footnote: Winston Churchill is not to be confused with ‘Mr Bump’, ‘Mr Happy’, ‘Mr Benefit-Cheat’, ‘Mr Euro Sceptic’ or ‘Sherlock Holmes’. All of whom are real people in history and whose life and career is often focussed on in the English Baccalaureate and mentioned frequently in school OFSTED inspection reports)

‘Dreamland Junction’, the ghost railway station master from the past, cannot help but see the irony of the first flight of a commercial plane across the UK with no bu@@er steering in the cockpit!

The pilot was sitting on the ground hundreds of miles away steering on a Microsoft Windows joystick from PC World.

Unfortunately it landed without incident. So look out, the fools will be doing it with us on board next to save money on pilots.

If this mad idea ‘takes off’ (no pun intended) commercially, we now stand a good chance of not only finding no-one from the UK Border Control to check us in and out of ‘Blighty’ but also get on the plane to find there’s no one actually in the cockpit to fly the crate!

Only in Britain, eh? Only in Britain!

The third birthday of the old Internet railway that used to run every day across the entire World Wide Web before it had its services reduced to ‘weekends only’ by the same miserable, tight-wad’ british government that inspired it to be built in the first place.

Pictured above is the Coalition’s ‘Pleb’ bus service which has replaced the Dreamland Junction railway on weekdays.

In the photo, we see Michael Gove and Theresa May welcoming yet another batch of children into Britain but not before they ensure everyone has a valid visa, does not want money or a house and are happy to be educated via the ‘Wilshaw Baccalaureate’ in a Government-funded Academy before their feet leave the bus.

Note in the background of the photo, ‘The Titanic’ is waiting to leave port. Obviously pictorially describing what awaits us all over the next two years until we get a chance to throw this lot ‘over the side’ and pipe ‘Captain Farage’ aboard.

Three years ago… some public sector workers still had their job, some people still had disability benefits, the armed forces had higher numbers, Harrier jump jets were still flying high, the Royal Navy still had aircraft carriers that could actually carry our own planes, the RAF actually flew real planes instead of remote-controlled toy ones, head teachers weren’t hanging themselves rather than face Tory OFSTED inspectors and The Big Society was still being mentioned really positively in news dispatches by David Cameron.

Now? All gone! ALL GONE!

Happy Birthday, Dreamland Junction!

Give us this day our welfare bread
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we are happy to thump anyone who gives evidence against us.

And lead us not into employment
But deliver us into ‘free housing’.

For thine is the Jeremy Kyle-dom,
The Burberry and the Galaxy,
For ever and ever
INNIT!

This is a BBC-inspired waste of television licence-payers money in which a woman who nobody had heard of before a talent show took a series of young families to Australia to convince them (and sadly us) that they would be better off living in ‘Prison-land’. An entire nation stolen from the Aborigines.

Of course, the Australians are always keen to tell you how good and hot it is ‘down under’ – where apparently ‘the women glow and the men chunder’.

But that doesn’t explain why so many of the buggers live over here and work behind our bars serving us overpriced drinks.

I’m wondering if an Australian TV company has a television programme over there called, “Wanted: Benefit Cheats” in which young families come to Britain to see if they can settle here and live more cheaply than they do in their own bloody country.

In fact, that’s the sort of programme that the BBC could sell to practically every country in the world. Let’s face it, it worked well with ‘Strictly Come Dancing’.

‘Wanted: Down Udder‘

The James Dyson Tap Dance

Futuristic ‘Dan Dare’ kitchen sink appliance that not only washes your hands but also blows them dry again with a 400MPH wind.

Of course, when one considers the weather we have been having lately and the strength of the gusts involved one could easily save oneself the Airblade’s £1000 price tag by simply walking outside, washing one’s dirty hands in an old flower pot and raising them both skyward.

Let’s face it, it offers more or less the same effect.

Created by Russell Thorndike, ‘Clegg’ was written as a one off novel character with no real consideration given at the time to any future tales of the Dymchurch Vicar or his associates. But such was the popularity of his character that a further six novels were published some twenty years after the original release and these were written as prequels.

Clegg escaped the noose at Rye early in his criminal life so had to live a phoney ‘ordained’ life with his true identity known only to Mr Mipps, the church Sexton. Just how he managed to be a pirate and meet the demands of Theological study remains unknown.

Although he is regarded by churchgoers as a respectable man of the seaside village, to most people Clegg is “The Scarecrow”, the feared leader of the “Marsh Men”. A gang of smugglers that travel the Romney Marsh on horseback at night.

Sadly the whole story ended up in the millionaire clutches of Walt Disney who like many of his cartoon stories massacred the real story and copyrighted it to within an inch of its life.

Knowing the real Kent village of Dymchurch as I do, I can actually boast of being captured as one of Doctor Syn’s men during a 1980′s reenactment of the story, and just like ‘Captain Clegg’ I managed to run up a flight of steps during my attempted arrest and evade capture.

But unlike Clegg (and old Nick) I managed to get away without being hung, drawn and quartered.

‘That Two-faced Git, Clegg’

‘Oh God, the door’s jammed. What shall we do now?’

A 1977 multi-million dollar Dickie Attenborough war film, based on Cornelius Ryan’s best-selling book.

It tells the true story of ‘Operation Market Garden’, an audacious but flawed plan in 1944 to use thousands of British, American and Polish paratroops to capture four bridges ‘behind enemy lines’ in order to cut a path into Nazi Germany.

Needless to say that it was a complete and utter balls-up from start to finish!

In the film, even Sean Connery was running about like a headless chicken not knowing what to do next.

Recently our own charismatic Education Minister, Michael Gove, did a ‘u-turn’ regarding one of his own plans and called it ‘A Bridge Too Far’.

Whilst Gove’s plan certainly wouldn’t have caused as many fatalities or needed as many parachutes as ‘Operation: Market Garden’, it clearly proves that ‘It takes a cock-up to know a cock-up.’

The six and a half mile (10.5 km) long route is 70 feet (21 meters) below the streets of London and trains travelled the entire length of the line, stopping at every station, in 25 minutes. It ran 19 hours a day.

At the time many new stations were planned and loudly publicised but they were never built.

Strangely, despite being built and maintained in fine and expensive working order, the railway began to be used less and less.

Why?

Because it was five times more expensive to use that particular railway than it was to use the road transport system nearby. So the contents of the trains ended up on the road network and the railway line was only used to transport the occasional VIP about.

The line eventually closed for good in May 2003 having been a drain on the business for quite some time.

I wonder if ‘HS2′ will last 76 years? I greatly doubt it.

‘All Aboard for Birmingham and Beyond!’

Researchers from Glasgow University were part of an international team that has been investigating the demise of the prehistoric creature from the Harryhausen Lagoon.

They now believe that all dinosaurs died around 66,038,000 years ago. In the same year that Ronnie Corbett was born and drastic changes were made to Britain’s benefits system by the then Conservative Millionaire Government.

This theory was underlined in 1998 when, halfway through an episode of ‘Time Team’, Tony Robinson stumbled over the rib-cage of a velociraptor and found it had Iain Duncan-Flintstone’s phone number in one claw and a ‘Wiltshire Farm Foods’ catalogue in the other.

The case continues…

‘Right, that’s it! Sod em’ all!  I’m outta’ here!’

He boldly announced that rebuilding work in these schools would “begin immediately”, with the first schools opening in 2014.

But he’s yet to achieve these agreed targets. It has to be said through no personal fault of his own. He’s just finding it very tough to come up with the goods on time.

Well, now he knows how many headteachers and their staff feel when General Wilshaw’s Army has a go at them for not hitting their agreed targets!

So is the suited and booted bully, ‘The Ofsted Knighthood’ going to scold him and place him in ‘Special Measures’ for not coming up with the agreed level of success?

Of course not! ‘The Bullingdon Millionaire Lodge’ know how to look after their own at times like this.

‘The new ‘Wilgove Academy’ in Dreamland Street.

The Zoological Society of London found out recently that monkeys enjoy getting stuck into a puzzle, with or without any opportunity to win a prize.

The chimpanzees, all members of an adult family group at Whipsnade Zoo, had to prod sticks into holes to change the direction of dice in order to get them in the right hole.

They eventually cracked the puzzle.

Then they simply walked away, quite happy in the knowledge that they had solved it and were smarter than your average banana.

So once again…. for you crossword fans, ‘Darwin Rules, Ok?’

What’s ‘four-down’ then, Monkey Man?

Whilst all this was going on… Cameron was talking about the importance of bosses taking on an Apprentice….

And Alan Sugar was in the next Courtroom trying to unload one… Before she freeloads off him!

Funny old world, eh?

‘Vostok’ is not a brand of glue but an underwater lake that’s been cut off from the surface of the Earth for millions of years.

Anyway, the Russians claim to have found new life in it.

Apparently as soon as they caught this new life in a net, the first words it said to the Russians were…

‘Oh God, they’ve found us! There goes the whole flaming neighbourhood. We might as well curl up and die now.’

Above: ‘From Russia With Love’.

That’s right! Dear old Lady May of Customsland.

Theresa May has said publicly that the party would scrap the Human Rights Act as it restricted the UK’s ability “to act in the national interest”.

Well, there’s no doubt about it now, Folks. ‘The Rise of Farage’ and the ‘Rants of Balls’ have got the Tories rattled and that can only mean two things…

1. Despite what the Tory ‘top ranks’ say to the Press, there’s conflict within their corridors over present policy.

2. People who once stood shoulder to shoulder with David Cameron are now looking at his chair at Cabinet and wondering if their backside could one day be upon it.

Enter ‘Stage Left’, Detective Chief Superintendent Theresa May (aka ‘Backstabber of the Yard’).

Who’d be a Cabinet Minister, eh? Who’d be a Cabinet Minister?

Above: Et Tu Brute’?

Twice a month from 11pm until 3am, 87-year-old Mary is one the Christian street pastors who regularly patrol Burnley town centre when everyone else out on the street is as pissed as a newt.

Mary hands out jelly babies and flip-flops to near-naked women who can no longer walk in their high heels, order taxis for vulnerable or unconscious drunks and steps in to mediate or offer them a toke on her peace pipe whenever a large group of testosterone-fuelled males start debating which of them has the longest todger.

These acts of selfless devotion has earned her the nickname of ‘Mother Theresa of Burnley’.

It remains to be seen if the Pope will beattify her like he has her ‘namesake’ but as the brave octogenarian slips on her black boots, secures her baseball cap, zips up her jacket and heads out towards the two-metre high stiletto heels, overpowering aftershave and booming music of Burnley on a Saturday night, one can easily see why she should at least be considered.