rant… rant… moan… moan… whinge… whinge… whiiiiiiii-iiiiiiiinge!
anyone who’s been along Oxford Street during the past 3 weeks or so will know that it’s more unbearable than the hottest summer day in London’s underground stuck in a tunnel on an overcrowded train with your nose pointed in Mr Naturel’s armpit. Wearing a padded sheepskin. Surrounded by screaming nutters. For 3 hours. Desperately in need of a wee. Oopse.
So who’s idea was it to subject the Rugby World Cup Winners – ahhh – hem to the traffic standstill that is Oxford Street close to christmas AND have them meet the queen? It was really difficult to find a link to the the victory parade that didn’t also link to the tourist opening hours of buck pal n stuff…
Good grief – I could’ve recommended a few back streets – close to Burlington Gardens
Perhaps this is all just titilating foreplay before meeting the prime minister? …and if they’d lost, this torment would’ve differed how…?
Come on – we’re meant to be celebrating!