Nothing up top?

Goodness, I must stop going on about this.

Nonetheless, just one final thought – I promise – re the perfumed Rachel S. in the Telegraph today and the implosion of Gordo's loony dreams. She quotes Rory Bremner (good on Geoff Boycott, a lot less reliable on NuLab). She writes:

As Rory Bremner, who used to be a fan, put it yesterday: "It's like having an uncle who's been building something in the shed at the bottom of the garden for 10 years… you look through the window and there's nothing there."

On the contrary, there is only too much there, the precise product of Gordo's 10 years of resentful brooding and late-night slobbering as he plotted his vengeful triumph.

What there is is a huge, hulking and very angry out-of-control Frankenstein-type monster (looks very much like Ed Balls, in fact) that is about to burst out of the shed and indiscriminately lurch about, smashing through buildings and swatting aside anyone unfortunate enough to be in its way.

Then, primitive wiring already aflame, limbs lumbering and pressing what passes for its hand to its short-circuiting brain, mumbling and groaning 'My brain hurts! My brain hurts!', it will explode ...

KABOOOM!

... taking a great many innocents with it.

Best of British, Gordo!