Much to my disgust, I wandered in and Mrs Quetelet was watching some sort of homage to 'call me dave' and shushed me when I offered my opinion about him!
I've taken the dogs out for my evening constutional, (bloody wet and windy tonight!), came back in and my wife is now watching some other programme where Portillo is paying homage to Thatcher!
Now then, Portillo presenting a programme about Thatcher is akin to Leni Riefenstahl making a balanced programme about Hitler! I recall Portillo being asked about the person he most admired and he said "Margaret Thatcher and Nelson Mandela for obvious reasons", well Michael, firstly that's two people, secondly, is the 'obvious' reason that Thatcher branded Mandela a terrorist? Here's a little slice of Portillo's BBC 'impartiality' on Thatcher "...she knew how to deal with an enemy, whether it was a trade union or the soviet union...". The one marked difference with Thatcher and Portillo, is that Thatcher openly promoted herself as a total bastard, revelled in her hard line nastiness even, whereas Portillo is a graduate of the bliar school of multi-faceted political chicanery.
I'm puzzled exactly how Portillo became a BBC luvvie, I certainly don't wish to see one of the most ardent, repellent and odious of thatcherite tories getting a fat paycheck from licence payer's money, especially as he slated the BBC for being 'too left biased' whilst in office. Still I suppose he's got to do something as he miscalculated his 'heritage' as tory leader some years back, I just wish he'd go and do it somewhere else!
Steve Gribben's comic anti-homage song entitled "Michael Portillo" sums him up beautifully...
"You sad sack of shit with a brylcream quiff, I'd like to wank over your death certificate when you're stiff.
Your sneery snidey smug-mug, I'd love to steamroller, I'd like to hotwire your intestines up to a tombola.
You said to the disabled, jobs no you'll only shirk, you'd like to dig up the dead and get them back to work.
You said to old age pensioners put those pullovers away, 'cos you won't feel the benefit 'cos I'll cut your benefit anyway.
So Michael I'd just like to say: Michael Portillo, I'd like to suffocate you with a pillow, watch those hairy arse cheeks billow, as the hand grenade that I put there explodes!
Half-Spanish, half-English, half-Man, half-Twat, it's not a hamster I'd like to see shoved up your arse, it's a dead rat!
You supercilious, billious, piece of dead dog's dick, I'd like to shove you in a cardboard box and force feed you on wino's sick"
Portillo gratefully warms his hands on a blazing 'poor person'.
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