My Caramba

When I finally committed to starting my own blog, and more pertinently when I settled on the core topic centring around politics, I made a sportsman’s bet with a friend that I could make it to 10 blog posts without covering Brexit. This is number 4 and yet here we are. I was also challenged to blog about Brexit without bias or turning it into a rant. You decide... Back in spring of 2014 I employed somebody I hadn’t done my due diligence on. Lovely girl seemingly, and someone I dealt with on a daily basis through a client of mine. I took a spur of the moment decision during a busy period to offer the young lady a position working with me over in Spain. She was based in the South East just outside London, and my knowledge of her professionally seemed ample evidence to back up her suitability. We had only met in person once, and I was relatively convinced that all appeared well. And so it seemed, until just two weeks into the new tenure, I arranged a dinner party for handful of coll...

4th of July 2022. It was a balmy evening in Westminster, and Prime Minister Boris Johnson settled back in his Lazy Boy Ecliner 3000 and gazed thoughtfully out into the Downing Street garden. He loved these evenings throwing ponderance at the current political hullabaloo, and his mind wandered to the pressing issue of the day... who was this woman kneeling in front of him and providing testicular entertainment... at a glance, only able to see the top of a head, Boris cast his thoughts to who he was piping curently... it can't be Arcuri because security wouldn't surely have let her in... it isn't Carrie because she's at her Bridge class over at Zac Goldsmith's house... hairdresser maybe? Boris quickly reminded himself that she'd been packed off to Nova Scotia with a baby and a gagging order so it couldn't be her... "ah well" he thought, "one of the Whips will probably update me later... may as well sit back and enjoy the party" All was p...

It's Monday morning and there's an awful lot happening in the U.K. this week, from rail strikes to critical by elections, and not overlooking the #CarrieGate story, or Schrodinger's scandal as would be more accurate after Simon Walters revealed in the Times over the weekend that in 2018 Boris Johnson tried to recruit his then mistress, Carrie Symonds to a 100k a year advisory role reporting to him as Foreign Secretary while his wife underwent treatment for cervical cancer, only for the story to be pulled from the Times second edition, and then to disappear from the Daily Mail online. Whilst this isn't on today's menu for a deeper dive, it was of course a topic that Rachel Johnson avoided raising with Nadine Dorries during last night's LBC 'third summer of love' style interview should anybody have taken time out of their Sunday evening to endure an hour of two women pretty much stroking Boris's thighs while dropping numerous toxic hand grenades at the...

With a fair wind, and barring of course any injury time capitulation I'll be marking 5 years since I walked through the door of a drug and alcohol rehab that had been carefully selected by my friends and family based on the one I was least likely to walk out of and instead continue to make myself very very poorly. They chose well, and I knew the party was well and truly over. Fear not however as this isn't about me grandstanding my war stories from when I was a cocaine and alcohol force of nature, a truth I used to be shamelessly proud of. I spent a decade thinking I was having the time of my life, and only after what was to be my last hangover finally lifted did I actually start paying any attention to real world issues. Things that didn't occur to me or that perhaps had never even come across my radar suddenly quirked my interest. In truth, my sole purpose in life for most of the previous ten years had been about me widening my circle of partygoing friends, and self-medic...