Road To Nowhere

So Hariet Harman is now denying the government is involved in plans for a state funeral for Margaret Thatcher.

Considering Winston Churchill was the last former prime minister to be afforded this honour the thought that she is in any way comparable just makes me want to spit, swear a lot, scream a lot and possibly hit something. Maybe I could knock some sense into Gordon Brown?

I could rant on and on and on about what she did to this country, to families, to communities, to society.

But it's too nice a day.

Let's just say I swear I will never vote Labour again if it happens. God knows the party I see today makes me hang my head and sigh, but never that. Surely?

While mooching in the bookshop in Didsbury this morning, Nibs and me overheard the bookshop owner talking to his friend.

He's your typical 30-something Didsbury urbanite. Says 'mate' a lot. As his friend left he said, and I kid you not:

'Keep it real'.

FFS - what is wrong with people?!

I understand that globalisation leads to the fusion of cultures, creating new hybrid cultural identities. New ways of talking. New words.

But do we have to talk like we've fallen out of a second-rate boy band?

'Keep it real' has to be the worst I've heard for a long time. Anyone want to raise me?

If not, pip pip!

I likes me pain au chocolat.

Greatly.

There's a new deli in Didsbury that Nibs has been raving about.

So I buys a pain au chocolat while we're up there shifting about in bookshops and buying treatsy food.

Utter bobbins. All dry and bitsy chocolate bits, not chunks, so the chocolate was the wrong texture - and pretty tasteless incidentally.

I don't know why but this kind of thing really irritates me. It costing 97p does nothing to help my mood either.

Bad cake shop. Bad!