Forget punching....someone hand me a one iron.

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Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand

I'm amazed that the sports press regularly confuse "Being a blubbering mummy's boy" with "Mind Games".

I'm doubly amazed that I very occasionally find myself in agreement with the mail readers in thinking "Yes, maybe a good slap will cure his deviant behaviour".

I thought Mind Games was only something Alex Ferguson can do, if any other manager does so it's called going insane.

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Sick Left-wing Zealot.

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Talk is cheap because supply exceeds demand

This might be in poor taste, since somebody did once smack him in the mouth, but a man with a brushover just walked past the window and it reminded me of this unlikely reggae fan and friend of Thatch:

Arsehole masquerading as national treasure:

I wear a bowtie, me.

And



A former visiting professor at Buckingham University. What an advert for privatisation that is.

I don't know who the last two are

I recognised Uncle Norris though.

ETA: Worked out how to get image info (I'm a whizz at technology!) but I still don't know who the fellow is. He's wearing a bow tie, though, so if you want to punch him I won't stand in your way.

He's Madsen Pirie of the Adam Smith Institute.

She's Janet Daley.

Brian Sewell.

Janet Daley is rather punchable.

Mr Pirie's bowtie evokes an urge to punch, although I don't know who he is. I find most bowtie wearers irritating because they tend to wear them in a self-conscious affected manner, striving to look like they just threw it on. It's textbook pseud-wear. That and perfectly round glasses, a la Sartre.

They used to make them like that because they didn't have the technology for more complex lenses. Ok, I get it, they became iconic. But people that wear them now, and they cost a bomb, always look like they want me to group them with famous intellectual figures.


Ok, these ones are not perfectly round but they're close enough and I have seem him wearing entirely round ones. There's a face to punch. What a corporate whore Roger McGough is. I emailed him to object to his becoming the (very condescending and syrupy) voice of Classic FM. Didn't get a reply. He manages to cram half his own ouvre into every episode of Poetry Please on Radio 4, despite only being the host. Some talent but fuck all artistic integrity.




Here is another one, Michael Nyman, the poor man's Philip Glass. I could punch him for those pretentious glasses alone.



Get over yourself you tit.

Get to the back of the queue!

Being from the same city as this awful woman makes me cringe so much. She's fucking dreadful in every way.