I need a early-bird paperboy

Need a quick paperboy

One has been reduced to reading the Daily Wail at breakfast; it is not the most comfortable feeling at all.

An Englishman must have his daily at breakfast but somehow the higher brow dailies seem to have relapsed into a sedentary holiday atmosphere with the Daily Telegraph getting to my island at well after 1:30PM.

Shurely shome mishtake – we cannot retime breakfast for lunch; that would just not do.

The Germans have it

As I visited the newsagents this morning, one could be forgiven for thinking I had just walked into a shop on Kurfurstendamm – every paper and magazine had an umlaut.

This island might be Spanish but there are more German signs here, the thought crossed my mind that we might have a Kosovo situation brewing with the Germans clamouring for unity with the mother country.

The dearth of cultured queens

I finally had a night out yesterday which started just after 1:00AM and as I got into town, someone took interest in my using a cane by being a silly busybody.

So, I said, “Are you trying to make polite conversation or are you being a typical uncultured British oaf”. He whooped with despicable effete and ran off with his gaggle (of geese) before my cane brought order to his disorderliness.

Whatever happened to the classy and debonair queens of old who carried themselves with such grace and well-mannered comportment – from Oscar Wilde, Noel Coward – I am reading his letters, Sir John Gielgud and now Sir Ian McKellen.

What we have now are loud and brash chavs with no airs, courtesy or manners – the dregs that make you tilt your head backwards with backhand to the brow in an almost fainting spell of despair.

O! Back to the place where everybody knows my name as they punctuate each sentence with Sir. I am being served - Thank you very much.