Hippy crackdown? Cops barely make effort on burglaries
I ALWAYS never want to see photographs of other people’s kids.
But this week, someone showed me a snap of theirs and I have to admit, it was extremely heart-warming.
They were in their early teens, I guess, and they were literally crying with laughter. Helpless.
And I must admit that if I see someone who’s happy, it makes me happy too.
“What a lovely memory”, I said to the mother. “Yeah”, she replied, proudly.
“They were off their heads on laughing gas.”
Nitrous oxide, as it’s called, has other applications too.
My Lincoln Continental Mark V is fitted with a kit under the bonnet which allows me to pump it into the cylinders, giving me a short but noticeable burst of extra power.
It’s also used to make ice cream, and dentists use it to soften the impact of their bills.
My youngest daughter once had a nasty go-karting accident and she often fantasises about having another, so she can go back to hospital and have some more “gas and air”, as she calls it.
Laughing gas is just a mixture of nitrogen and oxygen. And you’re breathing both of those things right now.
It’s therefore as harmless as water.
But for some reason, the Government decided this week that, actually, it’s a Class C drug and that if you’re caught selling it, you’ll have to spend 14 years in a prison playing “hide the sausage” with a man called Big Baz.
Why? We are told that the tiny cannisters in which laughing gas is sold are a littering nuisance.
But on that basis you’d have to make Big Macs illegal as well, and Flora margarine, and milk chocolate Bounty bars.
And who is going to enforce this new law?
The police are all far too busy learning about the exciting new range of pronouns that are available to investigate any actual crime, and we have to presume that if they are briefly allowed out of the lecture on “gender neutrality in a sustainable future”, it’ll be to try to solve a murder or a bank robbery.
Not who’s been inhaling something that’s even more natural than lettuce.
And how would they prove it anyway?
Cocaine lives in your hair follicles for weeks after you’ve snorted it.
And you can smell cannabis a mile off. But laughing gas is different.
“Have you been inhaling nitrogen, sonny?” Er, yes.
“And would you mind coming down to the station to see if there’s any oxygen in your system?”
Well, I’d have a job getting there if there wasn’t.
Honestly, there is no point introducing a new law if it can’t be enforced.
And there’s certainly no point introducing a new law if it’s completely unnecessary. Which this one is.
Because knowing that all kids experiment with drugs, which would you rather?
That they inhaled cocaine? Or the hippy bit of what we used to call air.
IT seems that the BBC will in future allow Gary Lineker to air his views on climate change. Hmm.
I’d like to bet that if I still worked there, they wouldn’t allow me to express mine.
Flaw in ‘racist’ claims
WE are often told that everyone in Britain is racist and that all its institutions, from the Royal Family to the Metropolitan Police, are institutionally racist as well.
But if this is the case, how come the new First Minister in Scotland is Asian?
So is the British Prime Minister, and the Home Secretary and the Mayor of London.
Sure, I didn’t vote for any of them, but not because of their cultural origins.
It’s because I don’t live in Scotland or London, and not being an old lady in Bournemouth, I had no say in Rishi Sunak’s appointment either.
Don’t make a meal of it Chris
COLDPLAY’S Chris Martin announced this week that in a bid to look like Bruce Springsteen, he was going to start eating just one meal a day.
Well, a word of advice on that, mate.
Don’t expect the results to be a foregone conclusion. I only ever eat one meal a day.
There isn’t ever the time for more. And I’m piling on the pounds like a truck at the diesel pumps.
Mind you, this might have something to do with the fact that I follow another celebrity when it comes to my drinking habits. Oliver Reed.
A GAIN IN THE BUTT
WHENEVER there was a massive rainstorm in the olden days, the sudden influx of water would soak gradually into your lawn and the farmer’s fields and all would be well.
But then you covered your lawn with decking and the farmer sold his fields for housing, so now the water is channelled into the drainage system, which can’t cope.
So, pretty soon, your new sofa is floating around in a sea of turds and tampons.
There is, however, a solution. Bear with me on this one. A millimetre of rain falling on a square metre of the roof over your head amounts to a litre of water.
So if you have a hundred square metres of roof, that’s a hundred litres. From just a millimetre of rain.
And all of it goes down a drainpipe and is lost.
So why not catch it and use it in the summer to water your plants?
That’s what I do on the farm. Up here in the hills of Oxfordshire we have around 660 millimetres of rain a year, which is why my three 10,000-litre butts, which capture rain from the roofs of the barns, are pretty much permanently full.
That’s 30 tonnes of free water. Now you’re interested, eh?
Potty woke wars
FOR a good few years, the nation’s Thunberg enthusiasts have had things all their own way.
They’ve glued themselves to roads and thrown soup at paintings and fastened themselves to motorway gantries and no one’s ever done anything to stop them. Not even the police.
Well, now it seems that normal people have had enough and are rampaging around the nation’s towns and cities, setting fire to all the “low traffic neighbourhood” plant pots that have been installed by Green councils to stop residents going about their business.
The woke brigade are trying to protect the obstacles but, apparently, their peace and love resistance isn’t getting them very far.
It’s always been said, “Go woke, go broke”. But now it’s more like, “Go woke. Go home with a plant pot on your head”.
Rock ‘n’ TikTok
ACCORDING to a Congressional hearing in America, TikTok can take control of an aeroplane when your phone is in flight mode and beam strong pornography into your children’s bedrooms via the app that controls your central heating.
They seem to have it in their heads that TikTok is a weaponised social media platform which will poison the minds of American kids before handing over the nation’s nuclear launch codes to the Chinese Communist Party.
I’m not so sure. I think it’s rather educational.
For instance, this week it sent me a clip of Deep Purple’s Ritchie Blackmore explaining that the famous opening chords for the rock anthem Smoke On The Water were actually created by playing Beethoven’s Fifth backwards.
This is the kind of information a man needs in life.