Maggies Den, it’s Number 10!

Can’t sleep tonight, the sea is rough as old boots.  I have managed to figure out that at 0.5 lateral G – I will begin to slide off my seat.  Doing anything is a real challenge.  The poor Chef went for a burton tonight, from one side of the boat to the other without touching the floor, until she hit the opposite wall of course, then she slithered down the wall into a heap at the bottom, covered in piccalilli. I was impressed with myself for not laughing, but I am glad I did withhold, it was quite serious.  Have to say she has a very heavy swelling on her ankle.  We should be in Gib within 24 hours so she can get off for an x-ray but my money is on a clean break !

Other things to hit the news this week, good old Maggie popping her clogs.  I have fond memories of the Iron Lady, more so for being a no nonsense kind of gal, send in the SAS for the Iranian Embassy siege – no problem.  Defend the Falklands from those Argie Bargies, you bet.  Dodge those murdering bastards of the IRA attempts at assassination – every time. The difference between Thatcher and all other modern day politicians, regardless of their colour is Thatcher did what she thought best for her country whereas all other politicians do what they can so that they can get re-elected.

Sure, call her milk snatcher – I was actually one of those kids that had my milk snatched but am I bovvered? No.  I was a little bit disturbed, no, I lie, livid at that northern town that was burning an effigy of old Mags with wreaths of ‘Scab’ surrounding it. That was exactly the kind of scum that she didn’t want in Britain.  It is also worrying that after more than 20 years out of the limelight, those northern tossers still blame Thatcher for their current personal situations instead of taking a long hard look at themselves and getting off their Jeremy Kyle watching arses and making something of their lives for themselves. Wankers, all of them.

If we had more like Maggie, Britain might one day be Great again.


Rant over.  Before I forget, I need to make a correction.  I recently pondered the whereabouts of Ms Verity McCoy only to be told in the last week that now it is Mrs. Verity Smith, with child (there really was no need to send me photos McCoy) and a degree to boot. Congratulations youngster !


Moving on – Hopefully by Monday afternoon we will be safely on the dock in Palma for a month.  There will be some frantic activity to settle the boat down so that everyone can head out for the evening.  My plans are simple – that funky little bar at the top of the ‘Bourne’ that sells all the funky Belgian beer, that is where I am heading, I shall have a couple before heading back to the boat nice and early.  So, from Saturday morning, I will be back on my Spanish phone number gringos.

Do I have anything else to bother you with right now ?  I think not.  In 24 hours time we will know exactly what 18 days at sea without exercise has done to my weight loss programme.




Have a moan - the beers are on me !!

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