THIS week, a terrible old left-wing lunatic called Ian Bone decided that he’d like to spend the afternoon making some children cry.
So, he went to the house of Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg and said to his kids, one of whom was only six: “Your daddy is a totally horrible person.
“He’s probably not told you that. Lots of people hate him.”
This seems to have surprised many people, because the Conservatives are supposed to be the nasty party and Bone is a lefty.
And lefties are supposed to be nice happy clappy, caring and sharing people.
That’s why everyone gave Jeremy Corbyn such a warm welcome when he bounded into the spotlight.
Here, after all, was a nice old man who collected manhole covers and wanted to give children ice creams and nurses a pay rise.
At Glastonbury, people chanted his name like he was the baby Jesus and at last year’s GQ Men Of The Year awards, he was given a standing ovation as he shuffled into the room.
Not from me though, because I’ve learned over the years that proper old lefties such as him, generally speaking, are scum.
They wail and scream about Donald Trump without ever once looking into the murky past of Vladimir Putin.
They rage about the evils of the British Empire without ever pausing to consider the 20million people killed by Stalin.
Or how, in just four years, the man who brought communism to China, Chairman Mao, was responsible for 45million deaths.
Years back, I was having an interesting chat with Arthur Scargill, the former boss of the National Union of Mineworkers, when one of his henchmen put my name and address in a book, saying that come the revolution, I’d be first against the wall.
He wasn’t joking.
And now of course we find that it’s still going on.
We have Bone using a six-year-old child to make a political point and Corbyn’s been exposed as a hideous anti-Semite.
Then you have all those murderous trolls who’ve hijacked the grass roots of the Labour Party and are trying to drive out anyone who’s even remotely reasonable.
It’s weird isn’t it.
Far-right hate groups are regularly banned from holding marches or putting their warped views online.
But far-left groups, like the modern day Labour Party and Bone’s rag-tag collection of anarchists, are allowed to say and do pretty much as they please.
Including abusing kids.
Bone won’t tell us where his grandchildren are or what they’re called.
And that doesn’t matter.
Because I’m a sensible normal person, I don’t want to know.
Only evil sick lefties are bothered about that sort of thing.
MOST READ IN OPINION
SINCE January the value of Bitcoin and cryptocurrency has fallen by a massive 80 per cent.
Happily though, no one was affected and no one was interested.
Apart from a couple of drug dealers.
On yer Mark, set, go!
AFTER Mark Wahlberg posted his astonishing daily workout routine online this week, I am left wondering what sort of car he drives.
He says he’s up at 2.30am and, after prayers, some press-ups and a big breakfast, has a shower at six. This takes 90 minutes, for some reason.
At 7.30am he plays golf for half an hour.
Then he has another breakfast before freezing himself in a cryogenic chamber which sets him up for a third breakfast, followed by family time, meetings and work calls, which goes on until 1pm.
But hang on.
How, Mark, do you get from all these breakfasts to the golf course and then to your office in no time at all?
Do you drive some kind of Tardis?
I’d love to be able to pack as much into my day.
But I have to drive to the office in the morning and that takes 40 minutes.
Then I have to go to a meeting in the centre of London and that takes an hour, then I have to drive back to the office and that takes another hour, before I drive home which takes 40 minutes.
Last week, I had to go to Arizona, which took most of the day.
All of which means – and if you look at the size of my gut, you may not believe this – sometimes I have to make do with just one breakfast per day.
And no golf at all.
A green dream
TRANSPORT Secretary Chris Grayling says that plans to fit eco-cars with green-coloured number plates will encourage more people to buy low-emission vehicles.
Not sure about that, mate.
I don’t know too many people who’ll say: “Yes, I know electric cars are very expensive and a nuisance to charge and that they have a limited range and the battery packs don’t last long.
“But the number plates are a lovely green colour so yes! I’ll buy one!!”
I WAS in America last week, and when I complained to the owner of a take-out joint that he was using plastic straws, he looked at me as if I was mad.
This is the problem.
In a few countries, a few people have started to boycott companies that use plastic unnecessarily but it’ll take ages to get everyone on board.
It’s good news therefore that scientists in Japan have accidentally created a naturally evolved bacteria that eats plastic.
At present, it can digest the plastic used to make bottles, but one day it may be powerful enough to get through the packaging Gillette uses on its shaving products.
The only worry is that one day, one of these little parasites will get into the face of Mickey Rourke.
How will that work?
WE were told this week that drivers who hog the middle lane while driving through Hertfordshire will be pulled over and prosecuted.
Sounds good, except for one thing.
They’ll be pulled over by whom exactly?
I haven’t seen a plod car on the motorway for ten years.
Number is up for rude reg
EVER since a car was sold with the number plate PEN1S, killjoys have been employed at the DVLA to make sure that no letter and number combinations which spell out rude words are ever issued again.
They’ve been very busy with the new 68 number plates and have banned DO68 GER, NO68 SHT and OR68 SM.
Another to fall foul of the nannies is BA68 TRD.
And I can’t work out why, because even if you could make a 6 and an 8 look like an S, and you can’t, you still don’t have the word “bastard”.
It’s a bit like a friend of mine who claims that the R5WLY on his car spells Rowly, which is his name.
It doesn’t, though, mate. It just doesn’t.
A COURT heard this week that when cops pulled over Spurs goalkeeper Hugo Lloris they found vomit in his Porsche.
Well, I’m not here to defend anyone who plays for Spurs, or who drives a Porsche, or who was convicted of drink driving, but I will say that there’s nothing unusual about finding traces of vomit in a car.
On an old TV show, we bought some cars and a forensic examination found that in all of them there were traces of mucus, faecal matter, lady juices, man juices, sick and a large quantity of blood.
But it didn’t necessarily mean the previous owners all made snuff movies for a living.
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