Tell me you’re a bigger shite than any sassenach without telling me you’re a bigger shite than any sassenach.

Set your cruise control for 20 mph, sit back, set your seat to ‘massage’ if you have that luxury, close your eyes, and enjoy the ride.

What?

It’s casualuk’s time to shine!

No thank you very much, I absolutely don’t and I absolutely won’t!

FInancially it’s a complete no brainer:

Fines issued to each parent have gone up from £60 to £80 per child which will be doubled if it happens again within three years. Those with a third fine in a three-year period now face prosecution.

So every second year spend £160 per child you’ve got but save potentially thousands of pounds on out-of-season holidays.

Ah, the ol’ lemmy switcheroo!

The best alternative is to take off and nuke the site from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.

Just head down to the basement, find the circuit breakers for your building and flip them all to off for 10 seconds. That usually gets you out of Vi.

Vi/Vim - had it on every computer I’ve owned or used since about 1991.

Hmmm. I think Liz Truss is a useless conglomeration of pus and mucus as much as the next chap, but ‘considered cutting’ doesn’t seem like that much of a crime to me. Not compared to ‘utterly fucked the economy and brought financial stress and ruin to millions of UK citizens’.

We just got back home. We set off a bit after 09:00, got to Sheffield just after 12:00, had our fishcake butties, drove around some of my old student haunts, drove out to Ladybower Reservoir so my daughter could see a little of how beautiful the peak district is, then bombed home.

Her verdict on a 6 hour round trip to eat a fishcake butty: “Worth it.”

My advice: go lots of salt and vinegar. Then add some more vinegar.

It does if it’s going to end up in any other kind of fishcake!

And yet, here am I, contemplating a 280 mile round trip tomorrow to initiate my daughter into the utter delight that is a Sheffield fishcake butty. If you know, you know. Sheffield fishcakes make other fishcake weep at their inadequacy.

Couple of pizzas, a kilo or two of mac and cheese (I’ve heard carb loading is a thing athletes do), thirty or forty chicken wings (white meat protein, right?), half a dozen burgers (red meat for the iron content), and a millionaire shortbread traybake (helps with success visualization). To drink, I keep it purely healthy and have a half gallon of Sunny D.

But that’s just lunch, I have my main meal in the evening.

Young? Sadly no.

I’ve tried eating salad. I like salad. I eat about three or four kilos of salad a day. Five, maybe. Six, if I’m hungry. Rarely more than eight. Hardly ever ten. Still not losing weight. Diets are such bullshit.

For me it’s not about the actual temperature it’s about the dependability of the weather.

When I was a kid, cough-cough years ago, summer was weeks of decent weather. It might not have had the temperature extremes we’re seeing now but it was warm and sunny for weeks. Glorious, long weeks.

Now it feels like you can’t even plan a barbecue because it might be nice or it might be absolutely shitting down with rain.

Coming over here taking our benefits/jobs/culture/white women/supermarket trolleys/cheese/ovengloves/starring roles on reality TV shows/CEO jobs/benefits again/something/something/hosepipe bans/onshore wind farms/badgers/NHS waiting lists/bah!/bah bah bah!

Ooh, he’s got him there, it rhymes!