So, it came as no surprise that after Prime Minister Gordon Brown (aka Gord), head held high in the face of protesters, marched into the Chilcot Inquiry via the front door last Friday (unlike his predecessor, who slunk in through the rear tradesmen’s entrance to give evidence), ‘dug’ himself a comfortable trench and ’stuck to his guns’, as it were.

The conflict was justified because Saddam Hussein was too great a threat for the world to ignore, although the resulting loss of life was ‘very sad indeed’, Mr Brown told the committee chaired by Sir John Chilcot.

Kit shortages were not down to him – military chiefs were to blame, insisted Mr Brown. And yes, the defence budget was slashed – but only to stop public finances spiralling out of control. It did not affect soldiers on the front line.

“Every single request for equipment had to be met and every request was met,” he added, pointing out that in 2006 on learning Snatch Land Rovers were considered too flimsy, the Treasury gave £90 billion for replacement armoured vehicles.

And erm, that basically sums up Mr Brown’s seemingly unremarkable evidence, regarding the defence budget cuts furore. However, not so unremarkable – but highly questionable, indeed – according to military chiefs, who have got the PM firmly in their gunsights.

“I am quite staggered by the lack of any responsibility. He was the man with the purse strings,” said Colonel Stuart Tootal, former commander 3rd Battalion Parachute Regiment, after Mr Brown’s inquiry grilling.

And Lord Guthrie, a former Chief of the Defence Staff, added: “He cannot get away with saying: ‘I gave them everything they asked for.’ That is simply disingenuous.”

His view was shared by another ex-Chief of the Defence Staff, Admiral Lord Boyce, who said: “He’s dissembling, he’s being disingenuous. It’s just not the case that the Ministry of Defence was given everything it needed.” 

Ooo-er – they don’t exactly mince their words, do they?! Anyway, plunging the final dagger – or should I say daggers – into Mr Brown’s back are Sir Bill Jeffrey, current Permanent Under Secretary of State at the Ministry of Defence and his predecessor Sir Kevin Tebbitt, who occupied the post from 1998 to 2005.

Giving evidence to the inquiry this week, both flatly contradicted the PM’s claims to have always supported troops.

Sir Bill maintained that Mr Brown forced the military to make cuts, leaving them ‘very stretched, indeed’ because he did not give them enough cash.

In recent years, he added, the MoD budget had been more than quite tight, saddling commanders with significant problems. “In successive years, we and our ministers have had to think hard what we could cut,” he said.

And Sir Kevin went straight for the jugular. Mr Brown, he said, ‘guillotined’ defence spending, leaving him to operate with a crisis budget.

So, there you have it. The Prime Minister with one account – immediately shot down in flames by words from the mouths of five top brass military/MoD officials.

Clearly, the stories present ‘a few fundamental differences’ (that’s putting it politely), so it’s little wonder that the Tories have written to Sir John Chilcot asking him to recall Gord to the inquiry for an explanation.

Magic! Can’t wait!

FOREIGN AFFAIRS

Meanwhile, Gord’s French counterpart, the diminutive Nicolas Sarkozy (5ft 5ins – for goodness sake don’t mention that he’s one inch shorter than Napoleon Bonaparte!) seems to be putting plenty of passion into his politics – not with his wife, 43-year-old Carla Bruni, if rumours are to be believed.

For the 55-year-old president and statuesque Carla are allegedly seeking comfort and, erm other things, in the arms of others – the former with his 40-year-old ecology minister Chantal Jouanno (a karate expert, incidentally, but at least she’s part of his government!) and the latter with prize-winning pop star Benjamin Biolay, who is six years her junior.

So, if that lot is true, there doesn’t seem much hope for their marriage. Although I just can’t help wondering how long it will take Chantal to give poor little ‘Sarko’ the chop and for Benjamin to start serenading a younger version – or versions, maybe – of Carla!

All will no doubt be made clear. . .

HOME AFFAIRS

. . .which is something Take That star Mark Owen (aka cheekie chappie) knows all about, having just told his wife, Emma, that he’s been cheating on her with no less than TEN women. Blimey – can that really be true? Where on earth does he find the time – and stamina, for that matter?!

Apparently, the 38-year-old star decided to ‘come clean’ with his wife – the pair married last October after a courtship of five years which resulted in two children: Elwood, three, and Willow Rose, one – when one of the alleged objects of his desire, 24-year-old accounts manager Neva Hanley, threatened to tell Emma about their five year affair. Priceless, eh!

Mark is reported to have said this week: “I have been an idiot (true!). It’s about me, my mistakes (yep!). Nobody else is to blame (agreed!). I have been living with the guilt (good!).

“It has always been there, you carry it around with you. It held me back in my relationship with Emma. I wouldn’t have done any of this if I had my time again.”

Well done, Mark. Well said – but haven’t you left it a tad too late after cheating TEN times?

Anyone fancy starting a book of odds on the chances on that marriage surviving?

On that happy note, have a great weekend.

So, hats off to former UKIP leader turned MEP Nigel Farage (aka Nige) for his offering, which certainly livened up proceedings in the European Parliament!

Audaciously describing new President of Europe Herman Van Rompuy as a bloke with ‘all the charisma of a damp rag and the appearance of a low-grade bank clerk’, he effectively reminded all and sundry via free extensive media coverage that the UKIP – United Kingdom Independence Party to be precise – still exists and is a vaguely interesting political entity (to the great minority, that is)! Not bad, eh!

Anyway, continuing his attack on Mr Van Rompuy – who is Belgian by the way – ‘Naughty’ Nige said: “The question I want to ask is: Who are you? I can speak on behalf of the majority of British people in saying that we don’t know you, we don’t want you and the sooner you are put out to grass, the better.”

And here I expect Mr Van Rompuy, sitting across the chamber from his adversary, was thinking exactly the same! But now the dust has settled – and thanks to a bit of nifty work by journalists – the name ‘Nigel Farage’ is probably spinning round permanently in the poor man’s head!

Needless to say, neither President Van Rompuy nor President of the European Parliament  Jerzy Buzek (not to mention the rest of the motley bunch of MEPs) found Nige’s outburst very amusing – unlike the rest of us (or was it just me?) sitting at home chortling in front of the television!

Worse still, he was to find out that there’s no such thing as a ‘free advert’ for the UKIP. After refusing to tender his apologies, President Buzek slapped Nige’s wrists with a maximum £2,700 fine (that’s ten days’ pay as an MEP) and said he could not accept such ‘inappropriate, unparliamentary and insulting behaviour’. Ooooh, handbags!

And the response from Nige? Well, he’s somewhat unrepentant and says he is going to appeal. “Surely I am entitled to have a dig at a man representing 500 million people, who is paid more than the US President, and who has not been elected by us?” he declared.

An absolutely priceless episode that may not be quite over yet – but, alas, still not enough to make me vote for the UKIP!

 Sorry, Nige.

FOOTBAWLER

Oh how my heart bleeds for cheating soccer ace Ashley Cole – especially when he wails: “My life has been ruined,” in the direction of a reporter asking him about his separation from sultry other half, Cheryl.

Erm, actually, he didn’t put it quite so politely. “F**k off!” he is reported to have shouted. “Why doesn’t everyone just leave me alone. Just f**k off, my life has been ruined,” he added.

Poor lamb – hand me my handkerchief for heaven’s sake!  So, not only is he nursing a physical injury – a broken ankle sustained on the football pitch (no, Cheryl didn’t throw him down the stairs!) – it would appear that he feels spiritually wounded, too.

Now, expletives aside, if he had shouted out ‘Just f**k off, I have ruined my life’ (I being the key word), I might have a tad more time for the guy. For those words immediately indicate that, at the ripe old age of 29, he accepts total responsibility for his actions.

However, as it stands I’m left with a nagging doubt that Ashley – hiding, sorry I mean recuperating, at a sports clinic in Capbreton, near the French Riviera resort of Biarritz – may have joined the ‘it’s not my fault gang’: the not-so-innocent parties who blame everyone else but themselves for their demise. I sincerely hope I’m wrong.

In essence, Ashley Cole is just another casualty in the world of sport, where fame and mega-bucks do the talking – and life, in general, is all too easy for so-called superstars. Just ask Tiger Woods and John Terry.

Role models? Yeah, right!

OUTFOXED

Foxes and chickens don’t mix. Fact of life. And as sure as eggs is eggs, it’s usually chickens that come off the worst in a confrontation – until last weekend, that is, when in Essex one young predator (no jokes about Essex foxes, please!) met his/her maker at the beaks of four fearless chickens, led by a dastardly cockerel named Dude (cool, eh!). And, yes, it was definitely a murder most fowl!

First on the scene was 43-year-old Michelle Cordon who keeps the chickens – Dude plus hens Izzy, Pongo and Pecky – in a coop at the Basildon home she shares with partner Gary Howell, 45, plus daughters Maddi, eight, and Ruby, 13.

“I was shocked. When I opened the door, the chickens came running out as happy as anything,” said Michelle.

“I went inside and the fox was laying there. I’ve never heard of anything like this before. It’s like revenge of the chickens.”

She added that a table in a corner of the coop had been overturned and was lying next to the fox’s head. One theory is that the table knocked out the fox leaving the animal an easy prey for the birds and their beaks. “It [the fox] had little blood marks on its legs. It had not been dead long,” said Michelle.

She continued: “The fox was not a cub but it was only a young one, and Dude and Izzy are big birds. It looks like the fox bit off more than he could chew this time.

“I reared Dude from a little chick and he has become very protective of the others. He thinks he is human and chases our dogs around the garden, pecking them.

“Now he is a murderer,” reflected Michelle.

Well, maybe he is in some people’s eyes, but I prefer to think of him as acting in self-defence. Dude by name, cool Dude by nature, if you like!

GORD ALMIGHTY

Well, folks, by the time you read this our illustrious Prime Minister, Gordon Brown (aka Gord), will have finished sweating it out – or maybe just sweating – in front of the Iraq Inquiry, chaired by Sir John Chilcot.

No doubt Gord will have explained the thought process behind a swingeing £1 billion defence budget cut as our troops laid their lives on the line in a war that most people never wanted in the first place.

It should make very interesting reading – something I will attempt to examine (rip to pieces, even!) in this column next week.

And while focusing on our leader, it’s good to learn that he – and, of course, the rest of the political gang that allegedly represents our best interests – is to be handed a £1,000 per annum pay rise, while many mere mortals in this country face pay freezes and job cuts.

Yes, in the wake of the MPs expenses scandal, the Senior Salaries Review Body – currently charged with ‘looking after’ (very apt phrase) their pay – has oh-so-sensitively approved the increase behind everyone’s back, as it were.

Infuriatingly, it is all legal, above board and automatically granted to MPs, as they no longer have the right to vote on their own pay – which in hindsight is just as well, because they would probably demand more!

 Justice? They’re havin’ a laugh – at our expense.

On that note, have a great weekend. And don’t let the political b*stards grind you down!

 Now an Independent MP, Miss Short said he repeatedly lied to Parliament and members of the Cabinet in the run-up to the invasion and was prepared to use deception to secure backing for a war he had convinced himself was just.

 “I am not saying he was insincere, I think he was willing to be deceitful on this because he thought it was right,” she added.

 Miss Short also revealed that in September 2002, Mr Blair told her privately that he had not had any military briefings on Iraq. “I think now that is factually not true” she said.

 Other revelations included how Gordon Brown (aka Gord – then Chancellor of the Exchequer) appeared to cast aside his doubts about a war after settling personal differences with the Prime Minister and how information on the general situation was restricted to Mr Blair and his ‘mates’.  Any arising contentious issues were settled in ‘little chats’ with the Prime Minister and never discussed properly at Cabinet level, she added.

Interesting reading, eh? And plenty more to come, now that during proceedings in the House Gord’s been accused of ‘guillotining’ the defence budget months after the invasion of Iraq, affecting equipment, supplies etc – something he vehemently denies.

I expect he’ll be elaborating on that – and loads of other things – in the presence of Sir John Chilcot before the General Election takes place on May 6 (No! Don’t mention the date. Doh!).

Oh yes! And it seems Jack Straw will be back in the inquiry hot seat on Monday (February for a second round of questions. Look forward to it!

PLAYING AWAY

Isn’t sports news boring now that Tigrr Woods is safely ensconced in a ‘sex addiction clinic’ to give countless blonde young ladies (allegedly) a well-earned rest?!

In fact, firmly believing all our sporting heroes were behaving themselves (presumably concentrating on what they should be concentrating on), I’d almost fallen asleep – until Chelsea and England Captain John Terry woke me up, that is!

Blimey – allegedly having an affair with your best mate’s partner, who also happens to be your wife’s best friend. Now that takes some beating in the morality stakes, doesn’t it?

And as Terry’s wronged, bikini-clad wife, Toni, parades herself on a Dubai beach (no publicity, please!), a national newspaper alleges it was offered use of the star’s heavily subsidised 12-seater private box at Wembley – a perk as the England team skipper and strictly not for hire under terms – by a ‘go-between’ for £4,000 to watch next month’s friendly against Egypt.

Not surprisingly, this was later denied by a spokesman for the football star, who said the ‘go-between’ was acting on his own when he offered the box for hire – something that is not allowed.

Well, there you go then. I wonder just how much ammo Fabio Capello needs to strip Terry of his England captaincy? I expect we’ll be finding out ’ere long.

MONEY WALKS

Sixty-five million pounds? No, wait, sixty-five million pounds, one thousand, two-hundred and fifty pounds to be exact for an anorexic-looking bronze sculpture? Good grief, the world’s gone absolutely stark, raving bonkers!

Striking as it is in appearance, I did almost choke on my ham sandwich when I heard that L’Homme Qui March (Walking Man) by the late Swiss artist Alberto Giocometti had strolled off with the world record for the most dosh paid for any work of art at auction.

And how did the Walking Man become so thin? No, it’s nothing to do with diet! Incredibly Giocometti, who died in 1966, started off by creating sculptures the size of a pack of cigarettes. These became taller and erm, well . . . just grew thinner!

Anyway, just to put everything in proportion. Real Madrid paid £80 million for Footballing Man – yes, that’s right former Man U superstar Christiano Ronaldo!  But there again, I suppose he’s not so emaciated as Walking Man and can actually do something ‘useful’  – like kick a ball, for example!

SPAM, SPAM, SPAM

Spare a thought for our brave troops from 2nd Battalion the Royal Welsh in Afghanistan, not only for facing daily conflict with the Taliban – but also for surviving a 42-day Spam diet, after a civilian helicopter carrying stock gastronomic delights, such as beefburgers, chicken, sausages plus fish and chips, was shot down!

Not that there’s anything wrong with the fabled product, made famous most recently in Monty Python sketches. But might it not get just a little bit boring (dare I say monotonous) over 42 days for, well, you and me – in fact, everyone back here in good old Blighty not having to chomp on it in one form or another, day in day out?!

Well, one person who can tell you is Army chef 26-year-old Corporal Liam Francis, of the Royal Logistics Corp who had to diffuse the situation by designing a highly imaginative (but very Spammy) daily menu, until fresh supplies arrived.

“I was surprised what we could do – Sweet and sour Spam, Spam fritters, Spam carbonara (yum, yum!), Spam stroganoff and Spam stir fry,” he said.

However, Corporal Francis admitted that troops were relieved when fresh supplies eventually arrived. “The first day off Spam I prepared battered sausages, chips and curry sauce. The sergeant major said it was the best meal he had ever had,” he said.

Erm, well after 42 days of Spam it probably was! In the meantime, I expect the rest of the battalion have got over their Spam withdrawal symptoms and are hopefully back on a more varied diet. After all, an army marches on its stomach as the saying goes!

Have a great weekend.

His long overdue appearance – which, incidentally is expected to lumber taxpayers with a £250,000 security bill – comes at the end of a week during which Sir Michael Wood (then the Foreign Office’s legal adviser) said he warned ministers, including our Tone and Jack Straw (then Foreign Secretary), time and time again that without the approval of a UN Security Council resolution war with Iraq would constitute a ‘crime of aggression’ in international law.

And that was not just Sir Michael’s opinion – it was apparently the view of every senior legal adviser in the Foreign Office. So, how on earth can our Tone – and his cronies, for that matter – justify his/their action/s in light of this damning evidence? Something to look forward to, eh!

Oh yes, neither must we forget the demise of UN weapons inspector Dr David Kelly, found dead in mysterious circumstances only days after being named as the source of a BBC story claiming evidence against Iraq had been sexed up to justify military action.

A subsequent inquiry (note: no inquest, where facts would be made public) chaired by Lord Hutton, concluded that Dr Kelly committed suicide. However, the very nature of the method he allegedly used to kill himself – cutting the ulnar artery in his left wrist with a blunt garden knife after taking painkillers – immediately sparked an outcry among the medical profession.

“It’s very difficult to commit suicide by cutting the ulnar artery, and it is extremely unlikely that he could have lost two-and-a-half pints of blood that way,” said Dr Michael Powers QC, one of 13 doctors campaigning to overturn Lord Hutton’s findings and force an inquest.

He faced an uphill struggle earlier this week  (on Monday), when it emerged that Lord Hutton had imposed a 70-year gagging order on vital evidence, including the post mortem results, immediately after the inquiry. Even more bizarrely, no-one seemed to have been aware of the order until now.

“The surprising thing to me is that if this report supports the conclusion that the medical cause of death was suicide, why does it need to be locked up for 70 years? asked Dr Powers.

“If it supports other means of death, then why wasn’t this evidence investigated by the Hutton inquiry?”

A very good point – and one that the Iraq Inquiry should home in on as a matter of urgency. A few pertinent questions aimed in the right direction could soon put an end to all speculation.

However,  in a dramatic move on Tuesday Lord Hutton agreed to make medical records – including post mortem papers – of Dr Kelly’s death available to the group of 13 doctors and their legal advisers, but insisted the 70-year public ban remained in place to protect family members from  ‘further and unnecessary distress’.

Dr Powers, a former assistant coroner, welcomed the news cautiously. “We are delighted with this new information, but we want assurance that we are going to see everything and not just selected records. None of us are in the least bit interested in making anything public that can cause distress to the family,” he said.

“If as a consequence of what we find we continue to have concerns, then it will be necessary for us to seek a new inquest by means of legal process.

“Details relevant to the cause of death could then be discussed in court, but if they are not relevant then they will not,” concluded Dr Powers.

 One thing is certain, though. In the meantime – until Sir John or a member of his committee takes the initiative to break down the secrecy barrier erected by Lord Hutton – no ordinary member of the public can be expected to believe 100 per cent that Dr Kelly did take his own life. There will always be suspicion that he became an unwilling and unwitting victim of the Iraq War.

Justified secrecy? I think not.

FOOT IN MOUTH DISEASE

Bumped into Defence Secretary Bob Ainsworth (aka Big Bob) in the pub the other day and thought I’d attempt to have a civilised chat with him over a pint.

Me: “Fancy a pint, Bob?”

Big Bob: “Why? Is it May 6 already?”

Me: “You what? How about a pint of lager, then?”

BB: “Only if they’ve got Kronenbourg May 6 1664.”

Me:  “OK Big Bob – you’re in luck! Cheers! Don’t suppose you know the date of the General Election, do you?”

BB: “Nah! Gord won’t tell anyone.”

Me: “Well, what’s all this May 6 malarkey then, big man?”

BB: “May 6? Oh, that’s when I start my treatment for ‘foot in mouth’!”

 Doh!

CHEAP NOVEL TWIST

Martin Amis may be a great novelist but he appears to have completely lost the plot after advocating that ‘euthanasia booths’ should be established on street corners – so that the elderly can do away with themselves to prevent what he describes as an ageing population placing an impossible burden on society.

Well, that’s very caring and thoughtful of you Martin now that you have reached the grand old age of 60. But what prompted you to come out with such a controversial and odious idea in the first place?

Ah! Could it be because there’s a new book in the offing? ‘The Pregnant Widow’? Out next month? Oh yes, now we all get your drift! Call me a cynic, but it’s a sure-fire way of gaining a bit of free national publicity, isn’t it? Well done (not)! 

Or as Alistair Thompson, of the anti-euthanasia group Care Not Killing put it: “There is a very nasty smell about using this to promote a book.

“There is a very nasty smell that someone as high profile as Martin Amis could actually make such a ludicrous proposal,” he added.

And so say all of us – a good novelist does not need to resort to such base shock tactics for the sake of cheap publicity.

 PC MAD

How abso-bl**dy-lutely ridiculous! Apparently adverts seeking to fill staff vacancies must not include the words ‘reliable’ or ‘hardworking’ – just in case it upsets, erm … unreliable slackers – well, they are the only ones that might be offended, aren’t they?!

That’s what recruitment agency boss Nicole Mamo was told when she phoned up the Jobcentre in Thetford, Norfolk, to check that her online advert for a £5.80 per hour hospital domestic cleaner was all ‘shipshape and PC fashion’.

“In my 15 years in recruitment I haven’t heard anything so ridiculous,” said Mrs Mamo, who runs Devonwood Recruitment. “If the matter wasn’t so serious I would be laughing out loud.

“Unfortunately, it’s extremely alarming. I need people who are hardworking and reliable – and I’m pleased to discriminate in that way. If they’re not, I really can’t use them.

“Even the woman at the jobcentre agreed it was ridiculous but explained it was policy because they could get sued for being discriminatory against unreliable people.”

A spokesman for the Equality and Human Rights Commission said: “This is in no way in breach of any discrimination law. Mrs Mamo should consider very unreliable any advice that she may have received implying that this aspect of her advert was discriminatory.”

So, take note Thetford Jobcentre!

Oh, well, to all you ‘unreliable slackers’ out there, cheers for now – and have a great weekend!

 Spin is a true art. Its definition is open to interpretation, but I have always regarded it as manipulation: sift through given facts, pick out the ones that suit your cause/argument, emphasise them – and play down the rest. Bingo! You suddenly find you have ‘spun’ a pretty plausible case to back your cause or argument. I don’t think I need to elaborate further.

 So, where does the Iraq Inquiry finds itself this week? Oh yes, asking Campbell loads of questions about the contents of a so-called ‘dodgy dossier’ regarding Saddam Hussein’s nuclear weapons programme – those fabled ‘weapons of mass distruction’ that never were.

 Would this country still have gone to war alongside our ‘best buddies’ from across the Atlantic without this dossier; was the ‘evidence’ it contained deliberately ‘sexed up’ as has been alleged; is Campbell engaged in an ‘old pals act’ with Tony Blair (aka ‘our Tone’), before the former premier is grilled – not literally, but we live in hope – by Sir John Chilcot; will anyone ever face war crime charges over the conflict, deemed illegal by some 80 per cent of the UK population?

 And more importantly: Will we ever find out the truth?

 One thing for certain is that the silver-tongued Campbell categorically denies putting any spin on the Iraq weapons dossier, pointing out that the man who signed off the discredited file in September 2002 was none other than Sir John Scarlett, chairman of the Joint Intelligence Committee.

 But hang on a moment. What’s all this about Campbell’s diaries which apparently show he bombarded Sir John with suggestions on how to ‘improve’ said dossier?

 Erm, sorry, but something doesn’t quite add up here, does it? I mean, assuming a dossier on something as important as Iraq’s nuclear weapons programme has been truthfully compiled using facts gathered from reliable intelligence sources, how can you possibly ‘improve’  on that?

 This inquiry is all questions, questions, questions – and not many useful answers. Mind you, I know a man who’s just champing at the bit to reveal all – as long as it shows him in a good light, that is. In fact, I’m sure that ‘our Tone’ can’t wait for his big day out at the inquiry – and I expect he knows that we can’t wait either!

 CAPTIVE GUESTS

Ever wondered what life is (or, in some cases, was) like for patients – Yorkshire Ripper Peter Sutcliffe, Moors Murderer Ian Brady plus gangsters Ronnie Kray and Charles Bronson to name but a few – inside Broadmoor, the high security psychiatric hospital near Crowthorne in Berkshire?

If the answer is yes, then your luck could be in. And you won’t have to pretend to be a dangerous ‘head case’ to spend a night or two there, either.

For it has been widely reported that West London Mental NHS Trust wants to sell the 360 acre site occupied by the Grade ll listed Victorian buildings, to fund a new £43 million 266-bed hospital it plans to build nearby (projected opening 2016) – leaving the way clear for Broadmoor to take on a new role. And depending on planning consent, one of these could be as a hotel.

Furthermore, the establishment – which opened as a lunatic asylum in 1863 – already has a multi-million pound gym and swimming pool for its patients who live a life of luxury at an estimated cost to the taxpayer of £600 per day.

Six hundred quid a day? Blimey, that’s daylight robbery! Hopefully, if this hotel transformation ever happens – and according to a West London Mental NHS Trust spokesman it is only one of the options available – the daily tariff will take a considerable nosedive!

I can just imagine the blurb, advertising breaks: lie back and relax in the luxurious Dungeon Suite at Broadmoor Towers, enjoy a drink at the bar behind bars before adjourning to the massive communal dining hall for a sumptuous dinner chosen from the a la carte menu! Magic – captivating, even (but I reckon slopping out time first thing in the morning could be absolute murder)!

Advanced bookings, anyone?

 ELECTRIC POWER

Pssst! Wanna earn mega-bucks? Then head for Birmingham and work for the city council, where one electrician took home a whopping annual pay packet of £124,000, including bonuses and overtime – more than some Government ministers!

Details of his pay was revealed by the council in documents for 2006/7, which also showed that 58 other employees – including binmen, gardeners and gravediggers – received bonuses of up to £20,000 each.

Now other council employees – namely women cleaners, care workers and lollipop ladies – are up in arms. They insist they should have been included in the bonus scheme and are actively seeking compensation.

And furious city taxpayers and campaign groups point out that manual labourers working for the council – Britain’s largest local authority – could soon become millionaires.

“These are mind-boggling sums. Refuse workers in Birmingham are getting paid more than many solicitors and social workers,” said lawyer Stefan Cross, who is fighting a case against the council over its pay policies.

 Other revelations from the documents – originally for a Birmingham industrial tribunal to illustrate how council workers were able to inflate pay with bonuses, allowances and overtime – included a refuse lorry driver on £50,917 including £24,000 in bonuses and performance-related payments), binmen earning up to £46,000 per annum and a traffic light repairman who took home the princely sum of £81,940.

 Gordon Bennett, I think we’ve all missed our vocations!

 CRIME CRACKER

Put police officers in the middle of crime hotspots to deter criminals. Now there’s a novel idea if ever there was one!

 Erm, isn’t that basically the whole idea of policing, anyway. The saying “prevention is better than cure” tends to leap out at you, doesn’t it?

Anyway, this strategy is apparently going to be adopted for a 12-month study of Greater Manchester areas renowned for high violent crime rates, and will be monitored by boffins at Cambridge University.

Instead of officers covering long distances during a shift, the plan is for them to spend periods stationed in an area of 100ft radius where there is a history of crime – a method (dubbed micro-policing) that experiment leader Cambridge criminologist Professor Lawrence Sherman says cut crime in Minneapolis, USA, hotspots by two thirds in the 1980s.

“For the first time we are saying ‘go to this street corner and stay there for twelve and a half minutes’. It has never been obvious that policing needs to be that local,” he said in an interview. Interesting, eh? But I’m not sure how it actually works after the twelve and a half minutes expires! 

Anyway, all I can do is wish the Greater Manchester Police good luck – and advise all you northern crims to abandon your wayward lives. If not, you’re in for a tricky 12 months with police officers round every corner (for twelve and a half minutes, anyway)!

 Evenin’ all – and have a great weekend, whatever you get up to!

“Don’t quite know what I can do with this,” he mutters. “Wasn’t quite what I was expecting. Still, I’ll do my best…”

Of course, this would never happen in real life, would it? Erm, well…it might not be that far from the truth with the admission this week from NHS Blood and Transplant (NHSBT) that, because of a severe shortage, more organs from higher risk donors – for example elderly patients plus those with histories of cancer and drug abuse – are being used than ever before.

Surgeons, who are apparently resigned to this ‘do or die’ situation, point out that three out of the 10,000 patients on the UK’s transplant waiting list die each day – a comforting thought, eh.

None of this is the sort of thing prospective organ recipients want to read just before trundling off to the operating theatre for a transplant. The fact that you might receive a ‘second rate’ body part is, in itself, a very scary thought – but, hey, if it’s your only chance of survival, it might be something you are prepared to ignore, blot out, if you like.

It all presents a real quandary for medical director of NHSBT Professor James Neuberger, who is quoted as saying: “There is no doubt that if we had more donors, we could be a lot more selective about those used.

“In some cases this is completely safe but we’re seeing organs from higher risk donors used in order to meet the growing need for transplantation.” Here, I must say that I find his use of the words ‘in some cases’ very disturbing for obvious reasons.

Tim Statham, of the National Kidney Federation, stresses that it is vital (absolutely, Tim) that recipients are informed of the condition of any organ they receive. Most, he adds, would accept an organ that was ‘not optimal’ rather than die.

Perhaps the time is now right to push new legislation through parliament that when a person dies, healthy organs are removed as a matter of standard procedure and banked for future transplant operations, thus removing the need for permission to be sought.

Not a nice thought for the squeamish, granted – but in practice a law that would probably solve NHSBT’s supply/demand problem, and provide patients needing lifesaving transplant operations with a bit more ‘quality control’ assurance.

Sounds like something Secretary of State for Health Andy Burnham should – if you’ll excuse the expression –‘get his teeth into.

 GORDON’S GAG

As the Chilcot Inquiry into the Iraq War hears evidence of how Tony Blair allegedly misled the public over weapons of mass destruction – plus  his various meetings/dialogues with US President George Bush – there seems to be more than a bit of political skullduggery on the home front.

For good old Tone’s successor as Prime Minister (that’s Gordon Brown, in case the name has slipped from your memory – as it probably will, after the next General Election!)  has been busy giving his Whitehall lackies – sorry, I mean civil servants – the means (nine grounds in all) to block the release of ‘secret’ documents relating to the conflict.

I wonder what he’s so worried about. More damning evidence, maybe? Surely not! However, we may never know if Gordon gets his way.

Don’t you just hope that inquiry chairman Sir John Chilcot challenges the PM’s actions in the name of democracy?

LOVE ACTION

From Iraq to troubled Afghanistan where some of our servicewomen may have been taking the message ‘make love not war’ a little bit too seriously by engaging in a spot of hot action over the past few months!

Yep, ten of them are pregnant and have had to be flown away from the front line because strict military regulations ban expectant women from battle duty.

Before anyone jumps to conclusions, I must stress that it is not clear if any of the pregnancies resulted from relationships with colleagues – but be assured that the ten mums-to-be face a grilling to establish if they have breached sexual conduct rules (there is a strict ‘no touching policy’), according to a Ministry of Defence (MoD) spokesman.

Anyway, whatever the outcome, no-one – not even the MoD’s top brass – should ever be surprised at the result of throwing a bunch of men and women together during a so-called war. Things, erm, just tend to happen – just ask Adam and Eve!

ROCK ON SILVIO

One European premier who seems to keep politics firmly in his pants is Italian stallion (allegedly!) Silvio Berlusconi, who has just been named ‘rock star of the year’ by his country’s Rolling Stone magazine in tribute to his well-publicised lifestyle.

Says editor Carlo Antonelli: “This year the choice was unanimous, for his obvious merits due to a lifestyle for which the words ‘rock ’n’ roll’ fall short. Rod Stewart, Brian Jones, Keith Richards in their prime were schoolboys compared to him.”

 Well, it’s just as well someone is prepared to honour the 73-year-old premier, as I don’t reckon he’d ever get anything for his politics! The word ‘pants’ springs to mind again!

 Have a great weekend – but spare a thought for bottom-of-the-Premiership-heap Pompey supporters (not to mention the team) as they prepare for tomorrow’s (Saturday) home fixture against Man U!

 Blimey! I make that well over half the country. Brilliant, because it’s all going to be on telly, and our Tone is going to face a hot grilling from Sir John Chilcot, chairman of inquiry number three into the bloody conflict.

 Yes, the THIRD inquiry. But at least it’s all being made public – or is it? Well, having read the small print I’m not so sure, because (surprise, surprise) some of the witnesses are apparently going to be allowed to give their testimonies behind closed doors – for the sake of national security and candour, according to Sir John.

 Now, I think it is firmly in the public’s interest that we should be told who is going to determine the rules here. I suppose ultimately the buck stops with Prime Minister Gordon Brown – one of those who was against staging a public inquiry in the first place. Interesting!

 The ‘behind closed doors’ element has created what could be described as ‘wriggling space’ for any witness who may suddenly suffer a bout of war nerves or even a mere wriggling attack!

 What if we see a long and winding queue of witnesses, all claiming national security will be breached if their evidence is made public? Now that really would be a whitewash.

 Fortunately, that is a matter which can be dealt with by a strong chairman, in this case Sir John. And if any of the witnesses – star or otherwise – should act out of line, there are four little words that always guarantee a huge reaction in behaviour: weapons of mass  destruction.

 Even more sensationally, the inquiry may hear new evidence from retired American microbiologist Richard Spertzel surrounding the mysterious death of weapons inspector Dr David Kelly.

In stark contrast to the finding of Lord Hutton’s inquiry that the 59-year-old took his own life, he claims that Dr Kelly was silenced by Iraqi spies over a plot to carry out gas attacks in Britain. Incredible!

 Mind you, whatever happens, I’m still conjuring up visions of a rather uncomfortable Mr Blair under the TV spotlights, perhaps loosening his collar with a bead of sweat appearing on his brow – all in high definition. Magic!