Ahoy Tash Appreciators,
The weekend is nigh!
The big news this week is not the flight of Craig Whyte to Costa Rica; nor is it RBS’ loss of a cheeky £2bn of taxpayers’ money. It’s not even that the MP for Falkirk was so incensed at having to share a bar with a load of Tories that he felt obliged to headbutt them all.
The big news this week is that Mrs A has caught a bug from those ‘orrible kids at school. To be fair, she’s been brave and has been sending texts saying “not to worry”. However, the frequency with which these have been coming in suggests that I should consider showing some interest. I think something along the lines of “steady mother, it’s not like it’s man-flu” should do it.
If I was to say to you “Once Upon A Time In The West”, “The Dirty Dozen”, “The Great Escape” and “Death Wish” I know would cross your minds: harmonicas and widows; renegades and soldiers; Steve McQueen and motorbikes; sequels and vigilantes respectively.
There’s a common feature in all these movies. In each one there is a man serving up double helpings of gunslinging and revenge to gangs of baddies from Berlin to Mexico. I’m talking about one of the pillars of Tashdom; one of the overlords of mankind: Charles Bronson!
