The New Conservative

Rants

Airport

Welcome Back to Broken Britain

Picture this – after waiting for what seems like an hour (probably in reality though only fifteen minutes, but of sheer neck-cricked Hell) you finally get from your seat in row 18 through the front door of a Jet2 plane and onto the tarmac into a packed shuttle bus.  Next, you’re waiting in an endless […]

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave X

Either I am going mental or the world is going mental. If it’s a bit of both, then the world surely has the upper hand. The man cave is back where it belongs, in the back garden in Hull. At least we’re here for a week, before Mrs Watson and I take our old bones

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave IX 

The portable man cave is being dismantled and packed ready for transport back to the UK. Tomorrow, I fly from Chongqing to Hong Kong and then to Manchester. Very familiar with this journey, I know on the way out of China and through Hong Kong I can expect to be processed by smart young men

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave VIII

The man cave has upped sticks and moved from Hong Kong to mainland China. I am however a day late arriving here, as Hong Kong was hit by a typhoon on Sunday – the day I was originally due to fly to China. A Signal No 10 warning was issued and briefly intensified up to

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave VII

This does not come from the man cave as I am working in the Far East for two weeks: one in Hong Kong and one in mainland China. However, the man cave is more a state of mind than a location. You can take the man out of the man cave…etc.  My office window overlooks

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From the Man Cave VI

Wimbledon is upon us and, with Mrs Watson hogging the television and the means to control it, it is on all the time. Is there a stupider game than tennis? Probably not. But I still like to watch it. But only Wimbledon; no other competition interests me. Ace serves, drop shots, forehand smashes, volleys, passing

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave V

It is now safe to put the TV on again. Glastonbury is over. What passes for music now seems to be either a couple of black guys with their shirts off exhorting people to “kill the IDF” or some Irish arseholes* in balaclavas saying much the same thing. Too bad if you don’t agree. Music,

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From the Man Cave IV

It’s still piping hot here in the man cave. The ‘glass is rising’ as they used to say. I do have air conditioning but, as we also had our compulsory smart meter fixed a while back, I’m afraid that the surge in energy required to power it might be noticed by Mr Milliband who’d be

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Old man writing furiously

From the man cave III 

Another hot week in the man cave readers. In fact, it got so hot I was almost tempted to undo my top button and slacken my regimental tie. The waistcoat did come off at one point, but my beer-belly was obscuring the keyboard, so that had to go on again. I caught a glimpse of

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Old man writing furiously

From the Man Cave II

It’s been sweltering in the man cave this week. This, apparently, is due to a phenomenon called global warming. And there was me thinking it was just called summer. We have had a yellow heat alert warning (or an amber one, depending on which of the daily drivels you read) which means, apparently, there could

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