12 August 2017
The Sillies in the Silly Season

Oh Dave. Dear Dave. CallMeDave is having a laugh. He has a placard in his
kitchen which reads: ‘Calm down dear it’s only a recession’. And how do we
know this you might ask? Did CMD ring up the press? Not exactly. It was
revealed when SamCam opened the doors to a reporter from Harper’s Bazaar
magazine. As you do. “Welcome. Welcome to our humble little one and a half
million pound Cotswolds cottage. Increasing in value every day. We’re thrilled to
add to our thirty million pounds in the bank. As surely you would be as well. Oh I
just can’t stop smiling. I’m always smiling. Am I smiling?”

The article describes “the gloriously untidy kitchen, where the radio is playing
indie rock from BBC 6 Music”. Gagging. Bucket. Hurry.  Dave and his calm-
down-ed missus are so – down with the kids aren’t they?

Remember when CMD put up a £25,000 ‘shepherd’s hut’ at the bottom of his
garden? Surely you do. It was where he planned to write his memoirs after
leaving Westminster. Begun yet, Dave?

Evidently “The armed guards and security cameras that encircle the property
are the only clue to the identity of its occupants.” Oh Dave. How we are missing
you and your entitlement, arrogance, misogyny during our recession.

But, if you were at the ‘upmarket’ Wilderness music festival, you could have
gotten a selfie with Dave. Wondering if he was wearing his favourite holiday
socks and sandals? OK. Socks and shoes. Actually worse.

At the selfie recording the event, Dave looks totally out of place and not a
particularly happy bunny. Wrong band playing? Not cool enough for Dave? He
was watching Swedish folk duo First Aid Kit. Or pretending to in a vacuous sort
of way he has. So where was SamCam?

The woman who took the selfie said: “He didn’t look like he was enjoying the
music but Sam seemed to be having a nice time. (How would you know?) He
was looking around, looking a bit bored. We couldn’t believe it. We were taking
a selfie and he looked right at the camera.” Sad. In so many ways.

Not the Only Fish in the Sea

Oh look. It’s CallMeDave surfing, more or less. Evidently less. As reported:
“’Roly-poly David Cameron” (picture beached-whale, well possibly not literally
beached, although…) struggled to catch any waves as wife Samantha wisely
waited in the car…the ex-PM, 50, was seen floundering in the surf in a wetsuit at
chilly Polzeath, Cornwall... coincidentally, the beach later had to be shut
because of sewage in the sea.” Yuck, Dave. Shouldn’t ‘your people’ have
checked that out?

Not a beached whale on the coast of Norfolk. Lego pieces, bananas, tea bags,
cocaine, tombstones (huh?), naturally rubber ducks, plastic but wait, not the
usual – but gigantic plastic pipes 8ft wide, 1,500ft long have washed up on the
beaches. No. really.

The massive pipes were destined for a large project in Algeria. Hmmm. What
project exactly? We’re told there is no danger or potential for pollution from the
pipes. Four pipes. Eight are ‘under control’ off shore.

Wondering how this happened? The Norwegian-made bore plastic came free
while under tow off the East Anglian coast. The Maritime and Coastguard
Agency said a ship was now in place to begin removing the pipes. What a relief
Dave wasn’t holidaying there.

Party On

James Chapman, David Davis’s former chief of staff at the Brexit department
has switched sides. He also worked for George Osborne and as political editor
of the Daily Mail. Chapman has revealed his belief that Brexit would be a
“catastrophe”. Uh oh. Trouble in paradise yet again. Spell broken then? Brain-
washing suspended?

Having worked closely with Davey, Chapman has called for a new party. Really.
It is to be called “The Democrats” to be set up to accommodate Remainers from
various other parties and none. Cheering here.

Tweeting, JC has challenged ministers to explain how they will survive potential
Brexit pitfalls. You know. That endless inevitable mind-numbing list that will
naturally take effect to create our Little England. Two cabinet ministers are in
agreement and shadow ministers have responded positively so far. Chapman:  
“Tories will never win a majority again.” I’m thinking reasons to be cheerful. Not
silly after all.

Jacob Rees-Moog, who sees himself as Theresa’s successor when she is
unceremoniously dumped, has responded as well via BBC radio4 in a
discussion with Chapman. But you already know what JR-M had to say, same
old same old, but can you say it like him is the real question? “Demahhhhcrseee
hassss spooooooken donnnn’t youuuu knowwww.” Fun isn’t it?

Don’t Mess with Me

Tiny hands, fat faces, thick, irrational, indulgent, impulsive, hedonistic,
unpredictable, ruthless and then there is the hair. Yes. It’s those two idiots going
vis a vis over “mine’s bigger than yours” and while The Donald and Kim Jong Un
are posturing, puffing their chests out, waving their chubby arms both have
dictatorial powers and the world tries to decide if they will or won’t – change their

We’re What!?

Quintessential English village, Bledington in the Cotswolds has a problem.
Naturally all the residents assumed they were ‘pure’ English. Well, you know
what’s coming here don’t you? The residents have DNA from 18 different places
with the average villager's DNA is just 42% British. 95% were certain they were
white British. 120 residents, whose ages ranged from 19 to 93, a quarter of the
local population, were tested by AncestryDNA. Nobody was 100 per cent Anglo-

So who are these quintessential English villagers with a noteworthy community
spirit? Asian Indian, Pacific Islands of Melanesia, Iberian, North African, Greek,
Italian, American Indian, Spanish, ad inf.

Wondering how many of the village residents are Brexiteers? Some were found
to be as little as 3 per cent British. Surely Liam Fox will demand their immediate

Soft Sell

“I’ve been blind since I was fourteen…” now what could this advert be selling? A
Dove advert? Yes! Naturally. Why? Because the young blind woman can ‘feel’
the difference in Dove body wash. What can you say? Shame, shame, shame
or boycott, boycott, boycott. How low can you go? This low.

Interminable sofa and car adverts are still boring us rigid – limiting our ability to
sit on/in them, but this seemingly new ‘are we dead yet’ barrage of ads is not
offering us peace of mind.

Pampers for tiny clearly premature babies still cared for in hospital, life
insurance, retirement, incontinence, vaginal dryness, cancer, dementia,
imminent death, wills. What’s going on here? What happened to clever
innovative adverts? Remember them? All right. It was a while ago. Now we’re
inundated with health problem inevitabilities and then we die after we had the
foresight and before the onslaught of dementia, paying for our own funerals.

Everybody is all sweet and whispery, sharing their worries and secrets: “I
couldn't tell anyone. I was so ashamed. Then I thought, I know, I’ll go on telly
and expose my horrible secret. I’m…I’m…I’mmmm in..in…innn… incontinent.
After 12 children. So ashamed. Don’t tell anyone.”

Everyone is all kind and concerned, telling us to care as well: “Cancer. We’ll all
get it. It’s just a matter of time. Best to get your life insurance now. All you need
to do is answer a few non-probing questions and give your credit card details.
Peace of mind. That’s what you’ll have before you have to undergo
chemotherapy. Now isn’t that what you want? Of course it is. Surely your family
members would want to be covered as well. The clock is ticking….”

You might want to say “this is madness” but you would be accused of suffering
from the early onset of dementia. Although I suppose these ghastly adverts are a
relief from the endless loop of Harvey Keitel and Kevin Bacon.
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