But I didn’t expect that in one of the most important trials in American history they wouldn’t call for witnesses.
It’s hard to fathom the above fact but it’s sadly true.
The American democratic process is shot through and the parlous state of its partisan politics laid nauseatingly bare, at the highest level.
The reality is that the world now is at the mercy of a laquered, mincy-haired, smug faced oaf who has the values of a dodgy, down-town second hand car salesman.
And worse, he is backed up by spineless millionaire sycophants who value the Dow Jones and their seats above oaths and their duty to the American people.
Deary me.
So what else is up? Not too much I’m afraid apart from feeding the roses and deciding on the way forward with an Edinburgh bistro.
On the sporting front, we’ve got the Calcutta Cup match in Edinburgh at the weekend and I strongly fancy Scotland. As long as Hogg doesn’t try pointless (yes indeed pointless) one-handed put-downs.
That honestly was a shocker. Even more so the fact that he pretended that he’d not done it. The camera doesn’t lie Stuart.
Also, I certainly hope that we don’t see any nudging off the ball and cheap penalties forsaken like we did against Ireland. We don’t want to go the way of football. It’s a bloody game after all.
But I do think the French merit winning the Six Nations Championship on the back of their crowd’s performance in singing the Marseillaise last Saturday in Paris.
That was truly awesome.
By the way has anyone read Bryson? I am gobsmacked at how mediocre he is. And the bloke has sold millions of books. How?
I am guilty partly, as I thought I’d take one on holiday ‘Neither here nor there’, recounting his journey through Europe.
I am not sure if he was trying to be funny when he put the following anecdote in about his pal’s chat up line in Amsterdam. But unfortunately after having read his book I do believe it was some attempt at humour.
Here goes.
The chap, seemingly, went up and tried the following line on several women.
‘Excuse me, I know you don’t know me but will you help me move something 6 inches?
I presume there was a massive amount of incredulity and a rightful demand to know just what at this juncture.
To which his friend seemingly replied ‘2 ounces of sperm’
Bill intimated that his friend’s line of chat up was not a successful one.
Well bowl me over Bill.
How on earth did this man become such a successful author by putting crap like this in his books? That’s almost as bad as listening to Lyndsey Graham orating.
Help ma bob. Lordy me. Get me a train. God save America or something to that effect.