In Britain Labour and Conservatives swapped places in the political spectrum.
Is the same thing happening in America? Well Barak Obama is certainly looking more like a Republican candidate every day while McCain is curbing his maverick tendencies.

Lost Deposit hall Of Fame. In the wake of the Henley by - election Comment is Free celebrates the great political eccentrics

What About It Al? Barak Obama seems to be warming to the idea of asking Al Gore to be his Vice President. Could it be my deliberately whacky Democratic Party conspiracy theory is coming true?

The Rage of the Hillitards. Starting rumours that Obama is a crack smoking debauchee with a penchant for multiple hookers is par for the course in American elections but spraying such things on peoples' cars is out of order

Is Obama considering keeping Bush's Defence secretary in the job?
Well at least the incumbent will bring valuable experience of managing a modern war to Obama's "attack Pakistan" policy.

Who Started the Obama is a Muslim story? Wasn't me, honest. But technically he is of course. As the Jewish blood is passed down through the maternal line, so Islamic blood is passed through the paternal line.

Boggart Network News legal affairs correspondent A Cheever Loophole reports from the courtroom.

An American defence lawyer has been charged with assault for allegedly shaking a prosecutor’s hand so vigorously that she injured the woman’s shoulder. She faces up to a year in jail if convicted.

There may be honour among thieves but there's none among lawyers.

James Hunt was known to F1 afficionado's as 'Hunt the Shunt' for his particular talent of crashing his cars in his earlier years in motor racing.
One wonders what nick name will come to be associatd with Lewis Hamilton if he continues in his present vein.
Along with a couple of spectacular shunts in the Grands Prix last year, one of which probably cost him the world championship, Lewis also managed to stuff his former Go Kart into a barrier, whilst demonstrating his skills to its new owner.
This year we have seen him career into the back of the stationary Kimi Raikonnen, ending both of their races.
Yesterday he was crewing on the Hugo Boss yacht and guess what?
Yep, it was in a collision with a competitor, before it had even crossed the start line, putting the competitor out of the race and earning a disqualification for the team.
It looks like the only good news for Hamilton is that not many things can be made to rhyme with his name to make a catchy tag.
It does seem like he attracts bad luck though, so perhaps he'll just end up being Jonah Lewis (you'll always find him in the kitchen at parties).

TODAY'S BLOG ROUNDUP
Charcoal vs Gas - which BBQ is best for the environment

McCain says Obama's word cannt be trusted. Words like pot and kettle come to mind

Maidstone hospital has not learned its lesson

Conservative blogger Iain Dales says he enjoyed Cherie Blair's book. That's how bad it is

What does Henley Mean for the Lib Dems. is it a disaster as Conservative and Labour commentators suggest or just a kick up the arse o remind them its dissatisfied Labour voters they need to attract.

The latest magic pill promoted by the Pharmaceutical industry, a simple, no dieting cure for obesity marketed as Acomplia, has been proved to cause depression and suicidal feelings.
This is a double whammy for folks who think they can solve their problems without changing their lifestyle, it means the same people who made you fat by adding saturated fats and sugar to junk food to make it palatable are now planning to make you unhappy too.

You may think the new anti – obesity pill is a disaster for the industry, given the track record of instant slim medicines, previous remedies have included among their side effects depression, heart failure, high blood pressure, addiction and arse dribble.

But forget all that. The new pill is in fact a marketing triumph. Why do people get fat?
They eat lots of pizza, ice cream, burgers, chocolate, fries, cakes, fried banana sandwiches, Chinese takeaways and more ice – cream, not necessarily in that order.

So they get a pill to make them slim.

And the pill makes them slim but unhappy.

And what do unhappy people do? They reach for the ice-cream, chocolate or cake or order a pizza or Chinese takeaway. With an extra large portion of ice-cream to follow.

Acomplia is not the work of an incompetent pharmacist but the brainchild of a marketing genius.

BTW Acomplia causes arse dribble too.

RELATED POSTS
The Third Certainty - Arse Dribble
A previous big Pharma disaster with a slimming drug that caused arse dribble (and euphonic farting)
The Stools of Satan More evil than arse dribble perhaps - the plague of Oily Stools.
Boggart Blog Calorie Offsetting Scheme The sensible and embarrassment-free way to slim.

So you've all had a chance to see it now, Roger Federer's cardigan that is.
But Boggartblog, never afraid to broach the truly unimportant and irrelevant issues behind the major news stories, asks the question you've all secretly been mumbling under your breath.
IS IT REALLY A CARDIE?
or is it just a sweater with buttons sewn on?

Watch closely next time Rog takes to the court, he doesn't undo the buttons, he pulls it over his head, just like a sweater.

A mould breaking election result in Henly where news that the Greens emerged as a credible third party behind the Conservatives and Lib. Dems. must have lifted the spirits of all Old Labour supporters.

Sadly for those of us who have supported the only truly left wingnut party for the last two decades there was no breakthrough for the Official Monster Raving Loonies. Three party politics survives a little longer.

Still we hope for great things in Haltemprice, former constituency of arch-Thatcherite Alan B'Stard.

(Let's see if that jogs a few memories)

Come on girls, we've all had them, haven't we? A Nicholas Moment that is. We've forgotten to pack a spare pair, or picked up the wrong ones; my two year old daughter's in my case, packed as the fresh pair to change into after an hour on the squash court, prompting the Nicholas moment, or evening out with (female) squash partner, knickerless underneath my jeans.
Now I know some celebrities seem to suffer from this more than the average mortal, forgetting to put their panties on despite the fact that they have chosen today to wear a micro mini skirt that would probably be better described as a belt, and that there are hoardes of papparazzi waiting to shoot their every move, (perhaps if they hadn't had that Brazilian they might have noticed).
But did we really need to know that in all those years of presenting "Wish You Were Here...", Judith Chalmers was enjoying the longest Nicholas Moment in the history of mankind.
She alleges she did it to avoid VPL (visible panty line) but come on Judith, surely even if they didn't pay you well enough to afford a pair of bespoke shorts, you could have taken the obvious solution and bought a larger size.

The free nations of the west are losing their moral foundation which are based on Christian faith, just when that faith is most needed, said the Bishop of Rochester Dr. Nazir Ali today.

Yeah, I can see what he means.

AND WHILE WE ARE ON THE "WHAT PLANET IS HE FROM" BEAT...

Check out the latest UFO news from the Currant Bun

UFO sightings in Shropshire.

All I can say is Shropshire has livened up since I lived there.

Not so long ago my colleague fatsally brought us the story of Pregnant Bloke, the female to male trans-sexual who was expecting her female lover’s baby.

Confused? You will be when you have read this story. First we must recap the story of pregnant Terry, the woman who wanted to be a man, grew a beard, underwent an appendicktome but kept her female bits too. Terry later decided he and his female lover wanted to start a family but for reasons undisclosed the lady could not have a child. No worries, said Tel, leave it to me.

Very strange.

Well now I bring you the story of Charles. A few years ago Charles became Samantha because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Now Samantha, a very attractive woman, has gone back to being Charles, a very odd looking man because while the willie can be reconstructed, certain facial surgery cannot.

When asked why he had followed this rather bizarre course Charles said: “Well you have to try different things in life.”

Now to me, and you can call me old fashioned if you like, being a woman is not something one can dabble in. “Oh I’ll be a woman for a bit and if it doesn’t work out I’ll have my willie put back,” seems a very causal approach to a life changing decision. One does not “have a go” at changing sex as one might “have a go” at pottery, horse riding or bungee jumping. Changing sex is life becoming a Scientologist or buying a puppy, it’s for life.

Many of us do daft things for a bet but wouldn’t it be right to worry about someone who, asked why they opted for a sex change said, “Well me and the guys were just dicking around doing dares and someone bet me I would not have my willie cut off.

A vagina is not an impulse purchase.

The Jeremy Kyle show is the kind of television that should be avoided like the plague. This morning however I switched channels just before it ended and caught the last item. This reminded me just how perfect life could be if only there was a competent scriptwriter on hand at all times.
In the item I watched a dodgy looking guy, shaved head, white tuxedo, black shirt, bling, you know the type, was complaining to the host that his girlfriend was refusing to have another baby until he could prove that he wasn’t cheating on her. Now if you are wondering how a man with such terrible dress sense could find one woman to shag him let alone two, let me remind you it takes all kinds.

Now what was said on TV is not relevant. If I had written the script the show would have ended like this.

Jeremy asks: And what makers her think you are cheating on her.
Dodgy guy replies: Well Jeremy, the first baby wasn’t mine.

*******
MORE HUMOUR EVERY DAY FROM BOGGART BLOG

Obama's Guilty Pleasures John McCain called Barak Obama Dr. No, a reference to the Bond villain. Obama's supprters are claiming this is racist.

John McCain refers to Obama as Dr. No and its interpreted as racist by Obama supporters. I expected this election to get silly but not so soon.

Dry Me With A Shammy Grammy
Oddball fashion news from Reuters

The debate over the amount of intrusion into our lives by the state continues to rage. Councils are encouraging neighbours to rat on each other for not recycling, or watering the lawn. Cameras are to be used to provide evidence in cases of dog fouling or litter dropping and presumably anti-social behaviour such as standing about with a group of friends whilst in posession of a hooded top and teenage spots.
They're missing the point here. This is a golden opportunity to find employment for all those eldely, fittish people who are so bored living to be 96 and yet having nothing to do all day, not even take advantage of the free bus passes, as they can't afford to do anything when they get to wherever the bus is going.
They need to recruit an army of old bags.
When we were growing up there was always an old bag lurking to reprimand you for your loutish ways. Whether it was dropping litter, swearing (and only bloody and bugger usually not the effing, c-ing, p***ing strings of profanities that pass for conversation amongst the youth of today), not giving up your seat on the bus or trying to push in front of the queue, an old bag would spring up, fully armed. With her headscarf, her overcoat buttoned up to the neck even on the hottest summer's day, her shopping bag over one arm and her brolly under the other she would start screeching at miscreants, irrespective of gender, size or colour.
"Are you going to pick that up? Would you do that in your own home? You should have your mouth washed out with soap and water! Would you say that in front of your father? What would your mother say?" and so on, as the hapless offender grew redder and redder and his entourage melted away into the background.
The assault usually ended with the threat to tell your parents, which would cause you to break out into a sweat everytime that overcoated figure was spotted coming down the street, the palpitations only easing once she had sailed serenely past your doorstep, albeit giving you a knowing look on the way.
It is not untrue to say that many a potential delinquent was stopped in his or her tracks by the spectre of a tongue lashing from the local old bag.
So forget the community support police or whatever they are called and start campaigning now, bring back the old bag, you know it makes sense.

I was resting this lunchtime, having made myself ill practising my walking properly skills again when one of our appeared, ready to take to the court at Wimbledon. Getting over my shock I realised its the second day, not the second week. The defending champion Venus Williams was opening the ladies tournament against Naomi Cavaday, a lovely girl I'm sure, the kind any middle class English mum would like her son to take home.

The American, tall, athletic, superbly conditioned, looked every inch a champ, broad of shoulder, tight waisted and with a pert bottom. Our Naomi on the other hand looked ... not to put too fine a point on it ... a bit on the fat side, narrow of shoulder, beefy of limb and with two definite love handles where her tight waist should have been. She gave the impression that had she worn a crop t-shirt there would have been a bit of a muffin top on the go.

Naomi lost valiantly, which is all we expect of our Wimbledon hopefuls. The occasion did bring to mind though an item posted way back in 2005 so as I'm not well you get another chance (as they say on television) to read it.

36. Bring Out Your Dead (A preview of Wimbledon)
June 2005

The tumbrels are ready in SW17, the charnel houses of South London are preparing for an influx of customers.

Like virgins to the altar (oops sorry; this is not a Solstice piece) like lambs to the ritual slaughter Britain's young tennis hopefuls will be taken through the streets to the place of execution, The All England Club is where they will kneel before axepersons with names like Federer, Roddick, Williams and Henin. The axe usually falls mercifully quickly to cut off careers that had promised so much.

Every year at this time sports pundits ask why can Britain not produce a contender. And ghostly eminencies of Andrew Castle, Chris Bailey and Annabel Croft rattle their chains and cry "I cudda been a contender."

But seriously, could they?

The dichotomy (Ian shows off his Guardian reader vocabulary there,) of British sport is that while we want our champions to win we do not want them to be winners. Thus is the British hope condemned forever to be the jolly nice chap or chapess who is nearly great. This is why Tiger Tim Henman never quite made it of course, (apart from being saddled with a nickname taken from an under-5s comic character) he is just too well brought up.

You can imagine him, when his opponent slams a second serve into the net to go three match points down, saying "oh jolly hard luck old chap," instead of suggesting that the opponent will soon eat excrement. British players might say an umpire's decision is rather harsh but would never suggest the official has an unnatural relationship with his mother.

English Tennis is about strawberries and cream, cucumber sandwiches and being a good loser. Now who could imagine John MacEnroe eating cucumber sandwiches? YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS! Johnny Mac was who he was because he ate steaks, raw steaks still attached to the carcass of a bull that had not yet been slaughtered. Do you hear what I am saying?

Winners are red in tooth and claw and if we ever want the annual slaughter of our innocents to cease we must find or make winners. Here is my five point plan.

(1) Identify promising youngsters at junior school level.

(2) Take them away from their parents in Surrey or Hampshire and send them to live with the Gallaghers from Shameless on a sink estate in Manchester until they are sixteen.

(3) If they survive to sixteen give them jobs as trainees in a Gordon Ramsey kitchen.

(4) After two years of that introduce them to the world of professional sport by appointing Vinnie Jones as their personal fitness instructor.

(5) Once they are fit, find the school bully who made their young life hell, put him / her in an enclosed tennis court, equip the future champion with a tennis racquet and immunity from prosecution. If the bully is dead within five minutes or alternatively survives for more than two hours while suffering extreme pain and humiliation, hire the best tennis coach in the world and commence lessons.

Are you being unfair to binmen? Do you expect the poor delicate mites to lift things occasionally? How insensitive of you is that?

Once upon a time, binmen were big burly blokes with names like Bert Strongitharm and Fred Spitmuscle, they would cheerfully hoist your metal bin, full of all kinds of rubbish but fitted with convenient handles, onto their broad backs, carry it down the garden path and dump it in the lorry. They did not care what people put in their bins and neither did the councils.
Then came the plague of politicians with comedy accents (Thatcher) and comedy ears (Blair) who talked of change, modernisation and moving forward to meet the future. And suddenly collections of rubbish changed from regular as clockwork to “we’ll shift it when we shift it OK?”
Suddenly binmen were not moving forward to meet anything, especially the bin wagon.
Part of the problem was that councils modernised by switching from nice round bins with convenient handles to wheelie bins that were square, tall and handleless, a shape that can only easily be lifted by a deformed giant.
The councils however spent lots of our money on lorries fitted with lifting gearxxx sorry strike that, the councils spend loads of money contracting out refuse collection services to expensive private companies who hired cheap lorries from refusetrucksRus.com. Then they contracted out the administration of refuse collection to penpushersRus.com. Then they went crazy for recycling, contracting out the supervision of rubbish sorting to jobsworthsRus.com.
And then they contracted out the messy, heavy lifting part of the job to volunteer labour. Us. No matter who we were, we have been tasked with lifting two plastic containers, one for: week1 - glass; week 2 – tins ; the other for: week1 – paper and card ; week 2 – plastics.

Paper and glass care heavy, wheelie bins are tall, it’s a difficult lift for an average sized man. For a little old lady its impossible. but little old lady or big burly bloke you volunteer to do the lifting and carry your rubbish in its correct containers to the edge of the pavement so the domestic waste recycling operatives can get the lifting gear on it without having to strain themselves.

But who is to blame for the problem. Is it the bolshie binpersons and their bloody minded union leaders? No!
Is it the designers who created such awkward receptacles? No!
Is it the local authority managers who introduced these systems without thinking them through? No!
Well is it Henry the mild mannered janitor – dammit how did Hong Kong Fooey get into this blog? No, the responsible party is YOU the punter.

If you are not willing to lift your impossibly awkward containers full of heavy rubbish for the convenience of the binpersons you don’t deserve to have a nice environment. And if you put rubbish in the wrong colour bin, or do not put the lid down properly, or do not leave your bin close enough to the edge of the kerb, you deserve to be hit with a heavy fine. And the council’s jobsworth army of inspectors will make sure you are.

Being small, old, ill or disabled is no excuse. Some people have the attitude that public services exist for the benefit of the citizen. Such anarchistic and sociopathic ideas must be stamped out.

Nice to see Roger Federer, the defending Wimbledon champion is not counting his chickens. Obviously aware that his run as undisputed world No.1 may be coming to an end Roger appears to be thinking about what the future may hold, and it could well be a spot of modelling.
He turned up on court today wearing a cardigan from a home knitting pattern.

German firm makes money for MugabeZimbabwe Iain Dale reports on a German printing firm that holds the contract to print money for Mugabe's regime. Hope they haven't agreed to accept payment in Zimbabwean currency, its not woth the paper its printed on.

Mid table mediocrity in the pink list. Iain Dale bemoans his lowly position in the "pink list" of influential British gays. Poor iain is below Peter Tachell. Still its probably some consolation to our blogging colleague that he is probably the most influential West Ham Supporter in the country.

Al Gore to be Obama's running mate? So the plan starts to unfold. If Al is running mate he will step in if anything happens to Obama. Now all the Democrats have to do is hire a good hitman.

Is Britain on the slippery slope to dictatorship? This article dismisses the idea that by meekly surrendering our civil liberties we are heading for dictatorship. The british people would never accept dictatorship, the writer argues.
Hey, we elected Thatcher and Blair didn't we?

Wonkette - Obama a loser? Another Washington Post columnist comes to the conclusion Obama cannot win.

News for music lovers from the Boggart Blog entertainment correspondent.

James Blunt, the syrupy songster who shares with Gary Glitter the distinction of having his name enshrined in rhyming slang has suffered yet another career setback.

The Mayor of Athens has ordered the cancellation of two Blunt concerts scheduled to take place at the Lycabettus venue because of fears for the safety of the audience. This is in spite of stars such as Gloria Gaynor and Mark Knopfler having played there recently.

We can’t imagine what risks Mayor Kaklamanis thinks James Blunt poses, unless it is that the saccharine songster might bore the punters to death.

For years I’ve wanted to punch Uri. Geller right in his stupid face. You have as well, be honest. The guy is so cheesy, so showbiz with his magic he could be considered a Master of The Kraft.

Now I’m not one of those boy-scientist types who throws a hissy fit at the mention of Geller’s name, he just doesn’t impress me with his spoon bending and alleged psychic powers. I don’t give a flying fuck whether he uses cheap conjuring tricks or really has special abilities given to him when he was abducted by aliens as a child. His whole schtick is end-of-the-pier-show. Anyone can bend spoons, I can bend spoons and it doesn’t take me five minutes either. Two seconds, straight spoon – whap – bent spoon; simple as that.

So what was all the bullshit about? Well that’s how I felt about spoon bending entertainers ‘til now. Last night while watching America’s got (tes, television has gone to summer schedules) I saw spoon bending redefined. Star of the show for me, for purposes of this blog post at least, was a guy who bent spoons.

So why the change of heart you might well ask?

Well this guy bent spoons between the cheeks of his arse. Now that really impressed me. He has this sort of leotard on with a thong back, he slides the spoon through the strap of the thong, a quick clench and the spoon is bent double. None of that pratting about rubbing between thumb and forfinger.

Uri Geller my arse.

The Raw Story - israel Prepares To Attack Iran A scary story of the politics of terror.

The Swamp - Chicago Tribune
Obama finally has his bounce according to a Newsweek poll. But why is this poll so different from the rest. Sampling errors and a very small sample maybe?

HANDS UP who reads boggart blog but does not go to our more serious contender Little Nicky Machiavelli? You shallow lot.
Fatsally and myself have been posting some good stuff there this week, satire with a real bite. Take a look at these.

Labour warns ahainst being seduced by the Tories - but they have raped us.

The great Maths Debate is it esential to teach pure mathematics to fourteen year olds?

Ex- teacher fatsally on British pupils can't do attitude

More humour every day from Boggart Blog.
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It is not often I give a titled post to one of the blogs I have commented on, they usually feature in my blog roundup. Today however I read a post on Ellee Seymour's blog, Mick Blogs About His Brain Injury. Now as I survived a massive brain haemorrhage evelen years ago this attracted ny attention.

One of the thinks that blighted stroke survivors chances of recovery then was the negative attitudes encountered among some medical professionals. Not all, just some.

Anyway I was encouraged by more progressive doctors, nurses and therapists to write a memoir of my recovery which has exceeded all expectations.

So for the benefit of anyone who follows my link from Ellee's blog or for my regular readers, some of whom i know will be interested, here is a link to the free online version A Stroke Of Luck The book was published in the USA but the publisher is now defunct and all rights reverted to me. I did get one offer from a UK publisher but they wanted me to remove the humour. I did not want to be associated with a tragedyfest aimed at middle class coffee tables, the best weapon stroke survivors have against self pit and depression is a sense of humour. So look in if you are interested. I will be getting an easy read (large text, more whitespace) online in my own webspace soon and a printable (PDF) version will be available soon.

What’s going on with Toni Blair?

We’re a bit flummoxed by a press release put out by the “Embassy for Republic of Kazhakstan” announcing that on June 17 President Nursultan Nazarbayev received “Special Representative for people of middle East, Mr. Toni Blair”.

Toni?

As in, &