Orbit Professional

AVERAGE FOOD BLOG

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Finally there is a chewing gum which accurately
reflects the British class system
a gum on which the professional can chew
safe in the knowledge it is way more distinguished
than Wrigleys spearmint or Juicy Fruit

I look forward to the other gums in the range
Orbit working class and Orbit immigrant
so every chew knows its place
and doesn’t find itself embarrassed
in the wrong class of face

I hope, one day, people will recognise Orbit
professional as a watershed moment, with
the government taking heed and ensuring everything
we buy comes with a strict traffic light
class guide alongside the nutritional advice

That way, you could know for certain
if Innocent Foods really are too posh
or if Chicago Town pizza is,
by your standards, a low class of nosh

In the meantime I, a middling civil servant,
can sit back with my Orbit, chewing and relaxing,
happy…

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Namedropping: a poem

At a wine and snacks gathering
in Canonbury, I was stood with
some adults discussing teaching.
In a despondent bid for attention
I said I had met Michael Gove
and liked him. “How can you say that?”
was followed by “he’s a dreadful man,
and you know it, Richard” at which point
I said he was only trying to raise standards
and what was the harm in that. Although
the party began to peter out
shortly afterwards, I stayed
until the end, insisting on
washing-up the glasses
even though the host twice said
there was no need.

Michael Gove

The fundamentals are looking good

The fundamentals are still quite good.

Cornish pasties are still being eaten
Office workers still having heavy weekends

Painters and decorators still being paid cash in hand
Ageing Prodigy members still living off the fat of the land

Dad’s still drinking whiskey, talking about fiscal instability
Mum’s still like when he’s like that I make myself a tea and go and watch the telly

Charity workers still doing their bit
South eastern trains still running like shit

Indie kids still wearing skinny ribs and smoking spliffs
England midfielders still got good engines, still lacking width

Renters still paying over the odds for poky digs
Quitters still nipping off for cheeky cigs

Yes, the fundamentals are still quite good.
The fundamentals are looking good.

Sadiq Khan is an extremist and always will be, whatever the evidence suggests

 

Sadiq_Khan_MP_3551269b
Despite a life of complete moderation, Khan is a dangerous extremist

Having read the national newspapers and listened to the comments of the Prime Minister over the past few weeks, I have become convinced that Sadiq Khan is, and always will be, a dangerous extremist.

I have noted with horror that, as a lawyer, he sometimes interacted with people accused of crimes. I have been left open mouthed by his willingness, as a Muslim, to talk with other Muslims – some of whom don’t preface every remark they make with a full-throated rendition of Land of Hope and Glory and a sizeable donation to Help for Heroes.

Needless to say, I was not expecting such a man to win the London Mayor election. I expected the noted beer-drinking, tube-travelling, Bollywood-loving man of the people Zac Goldsmith to canter to a comfortable victory.

Aghast at such a turn of events, I read, in my Daily Telegraph, remarks made by Mr Khan in his victory speech – and after contorting his words out of all context I realised my views about this man’s unsuitability for office were confirmed.

You have probably already realised that I am referring to Mr Khan’s incendiary assertion that he will run London “for all Londoners.”

This shocking statement means the man now in charge of our capital is not just running London on behalf of decent, hard working people who pay their taxes and want to get on.

Khan is running London, brazenly and unashamedly, on behalf of pimps, vagabonds, litterers, terrorists, fakers, wake and bakers, narcissistic selfie takers, doggers, diggers, liggers, laggers, taggers, newly-returned backpackers, members of the campaign for real ale, people who eat crisps made out of kale, traitors, idiots standing on the wrong side of escalators, thieves, northerners who talk constantly about how bad London is but somehow never leave, looters, Gooners, those smug posh people out after the riots waving their brooms, thugs, people who reserve tables in pubs, arrive late and don’t even have the decency to get drunk, retards in moustaches, members of ISIS, people who think they are saving the planet by driving a Prius, and, finally, people who act all polite and nice but are quite the opposite.

Khan, with his being the avowed Mayor for all Londoners, brings the above under his banner of seeming moderation.

Yes, this even-handed approach by Khan might not seem like much of a reason to criticise him. Yes, Mr Khan may, on the face of it, be the blandest of bland politicians. Yes, he might have an entirely modest agenda of restraining transport costs and doing a bit to make the housing system fairer. Yes, it might be quite good the way his dad was a bus driver and he grew up on a council estate.

But I am not going to sit back and accept that the Daily Telegraph, The Mail, the Prime Minister and all the rest didn’t have a fair point when they suggested that Sadiq Khan is a dangerous extremist.

I, for one, will continue to believe these trusted servants of the public interest – whatever the facts suggest.

I am not for ducking

Despite there being no evidence for this whatsoever, my predictive text seems to think that I constantly want to use the word ducking.

Perhaps I should write a formal letter,

Dear Android/Apple,

I am writing to you, very politely, to say that as a small man and I am rarely, if ever, ducking.

Did napoleon duck the big issues?

No. And nor do I.

I do, however, occasionally get slightly irritated by some things (humans, etc) which occasionally gives me cause to colour my language. So when I hit the f, and follow it with, ucking, there is no mistake.

I am definitely not fucking ducking.

Yours sincerely,

Richard Purnell

Napoleon-aux-tuileries

In defence of the Queen’s innocent Nazi salute

Harmless fun...the royal zieg heil
Harmless fun…the royal zieg heil

As a staunch royalist, I would like to express my own personal disappointment that footage of the Queen and Queen Mother innocently zieg heiling has been published by The Sun.

My own personal take is that it was harmless fun. My grandmother often spoke of how our family did the same in the 1930s before going to synagogue. It was just what you did in those days, and people lacking historical perspective should not think otherwise.

The Royal Family’s record on diversity and equality speaks for itself. You only have to look at the long line of royals marrying people of different races – and indeed social classes – to see that quite clearly.

Similarly, we should not take offence that Prince Charles gave an Asian friend the nickname Sooty, nor that Prince Harry dressed as a Nazi at a party, or called a colleague a “Paki”.

None of these innocent and harmless incidents should in any way damage the credibility of the Royal Family, and its divine right to rule over us.

On a day like today, the Queen and the Royal Family need our support more than ever. I for one will not be shirking my duty.
To this end, I shall be spending the day outside Buckingham Palace, singing God Save The Queen, goose-stepping and Zieg Heiling as I do so.

Harmless fun
Harmless fun… Prince Harry
Harmless fun...Prince Charles
Harmless fun…Prince Charles
Harmless fun... Prince Harry
Harmless fun… Prince Harry

Literary romance – a poem

I was ostentatiously holding
a novel by Chimamanda
Ngozi Adichie, when the Nigerian
girl I was trying to impress, says

Are you carrying that book
in a half-witted attempt
to impress me?

You know me so well!
I say, which proves, she says,
that happiness and knowledge
are enemies indeed.

Happiness is elusive, I say,
like something you reach for
but cannot grasp.

She sighs loudly and replies,
something you reach for
but cannot grasp
is not like elusive.

It. Is. Elusive.

Perhaps elusiveness
is not so elusive after all,
I say, quick-wittedly,
at which the girl pushes me
into the Regent’s canal

and my head resurfaces
just in time to hear her say,
bloody Englishmen, always thinking
they are funnier than they are…