A dope makes a hash of things

Depressingly, whenever I mention British Humour (sic) to an American  I receive the stock response: "Benny Hill!" I used to fight back, arguing that Hill's humour was cheap smut eventually only permitted for export (to America), while true British Humour was a cerebral affair of the utmost sophistication. Balderdash!  I was kidding myself. Benny Hill was…

Shooting at goal

I love municipal elections. Two weeks ago the incumbent mayor of my sleepy town (population 70,000 - the locals insist on calling it a city even though they would not fill Wembley Stadium) was lawnmowered into political oblivion by his predecessor, who decided to stand for the only apparent reason that he could not think of anything better to…