“Potatoes have much more staying power than caviar.”
Mark Helprin, Freddy and Fredericka
An old friend of mine referred to these offerings as “moans”. I prefer to liken them to a morning fart, essential to get out before the day can begin.
Do As I Say
You can’t beat Blusterer Boris for bombastic bullshit. In the wake of the Priti Patel rumpus he wrote to all Ministers and department heads to remind them there is “no place for bullying”.
Unless you’re a good pal of mine and it would take me all day to cane your fat arse.
The Bridge
Progress at last you might think as all and sundry chose to grab the limelight re news that repairs on our local bridge would now finally take place if loading the national debt ever further.
Post a Lib Dem petition claiming a result for people power, The Trumpit received a letter from our old Hotair, our MP, claiming he’d sorted the brass out with the Council leader himself.
If he would like to cut the ribbon when it re-opens we will send him directions to BD10. Meanwhile, Boris is rumoured to be granting an extra billion to “build back better”.
The Monster Raving Loony Party were unavailable for comment although Nigel Farage was spotted in a dinghy abusing the odd escapee attempting to reach Baildon.
The Establishment
I stopped my shovel in mid-air, let out a whoop and did a jig the other Saturday morning out in the garden. Graham Norton had announced it was his last Saturday morning Radio 2 broadcast. Thank ****!
But why listen to him in this age of digital choice? The answer is that tight-arses like me still choose to listen to a 30 year-old beat box held together by electrical tape.
As the dial does not work it’s Radio 2 or nothing. Sadly, my joy was short-lived with the news that the supremely talentless Claudia Winkleman would be taking over. More jobs for the dinner table London set.
It is time to ditch the beat box.
Susie’s Shot At The Title
Meanwhile, not to be outdone in the Blowing One’s Own Trumpet category, Hapless Hinchcliffe set out her stall to Labour Party members to try to convince them to choose her as their West Yorkshire Mayoral candidate.
Quoted in The Yorkshire Post she played up her role in securing the West Yorkshire devolution deal and said she was ”already operating nationally”.
One can only guess she’s working for Amazon.
Later in the week she came up with this gem demonstrating she really has her finger on the pulse. “We wait to hear from Government which tier West Yorkshire will be in.”
Stupid is as stupid does.
Legacy
Many years ago when the magnificent Lister’s Mill was facing an uncertain future, considering the scale of his task, one of the administrators of the old company was said to have asked “what do you do with a lighthouse in the middle of Bradford?”
He was referring to the majestic chimney that dominates the skyline; several decades on and the site is a mix of commercial and residential use although property values have never matched the expectations back in 2006.
Now another example of Bradford’s former glories is on the market.
The secluded 14-acre Heaton Mount and Emm Lane campus owned by the University of Bradford has been described as “an exquisite example of the Italian architectural style” and “an oasis of calm in one of the city’s most sought-after areas”.
Whilst I’ll leave you to decide the merits of the claims re the area, there is no denying this is a magnificent estate which would be worth zillions elsewhere. Take a look at some of the buildings here.
Although living barely three miles from the centre, it seems I only visit now to give blood. The other day I parked in the main retail park, the kind of place I normally avoid like the plague even when there isn’t one.
Towering above were several fine old buildings situated where I was heading, Manor Row. The young assistant at The Idle Baker had never heard of Manor Row – I’d popped in beforehand – so I advised she asked her dad brushing a sentimental tear away.
What was once where Bradford came to life looked so forlorn and unloved. True, the buildings still looked majestic but it was impossible not to wonder how a city could fall so spectacularly. It is one area of many in Bradford that looks lost; consider this.
Only recently, a number of long empty Bradford sites have been added to a list of “at risk” buildings that are in danger of being lost to dereliction or inappropriate development.
It is hard not to fear for the future of these buildings; you know how it goes.
RIP
Donald Jackson, father of my good pals Barbara and Pat, sadly passed away this week, another grim reminder of this awful year. I will remember his broad smile, dapper dress sense and the sight of him on his favourite bench at Idle CC spending a few hours watching a game.
Sleep well old boy.
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