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summat.bsky.social
@summat.bsky.social
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Runner and occasional cyclist. Keen on active travel. Not keen on bad drivers and Tories. Star Wars all the way.
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ottoenglish.bsky.social
What should Liz Truss's new Social Media platform be called?

Wrong suggestions only.
a woman is holding a large bell in her hands
ALT: a woman is holding a large bell in her hands
media.tenor.com
April 15, 2025 at 7:49 PM
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mrhenrymorris.substack.com
Wow. This Boris Johnson column about Gregg Wallace is absolutely wild.
I had the great privilege of spending a Saturday with Gregg Wallace recently. Unfortunately, I had to leave our banter fest early to attend Lord Lebedev of Siberia’s annual festive soiree. So I missed the moment the media began a concerted campaign to discredit the barrow boy turned plucky pudding evaluator. At one point during our game of Total War Saga: Thrones of Britannia, Gregg turned and looked at me through his full-rimmed Silhouette varifocals: ‘Do middle-class women of a certain age have it in for you?’ he asked probingly as he consolidated Alfred the Great’s victory over the Danelaw at the Battle of Edington. If by ‘women of a certain age’ you mean ‘totty half my own’ then look, I told him, I have always found them very kindly and friendly and polite – until that is, you get one pregnant and they start making ceaseless demands about maintenance and remembering your children’s birthdays, and names and the like. Poor Gregg. This is no misogynist, or hubristic grocer turned gourmet. This is a 60-year-old man who had the sheer guts and resilience to get out there, day in, day out, and eat desserts between Marcus Wareing and Monica Galetti while occasionally making a wildly inappropriate comment. Predictably the left-wing establishment are throwing everything at him, including umpteen remarkably similar reports of the same behaviour, in a shameful and counter-productive attempt to keep his working-class palate off our screens. And never has the expression ‘Let he has not ruined everyone else’s deconstructed roast pork belly with chargrilled peach salsa with chauvinistic overtures, cast the first peach stone’ been truer. We are at a crossroads. We can keep going with the hair-shirted miserabilism of women who believe they have some sort of inalienable right to go through life without being demeaned and objectified by their inferiors. Or we can listen to Gregg. Yes, the estuary epicurean is a bit unreconstructed, like those deconstructed Eton Messes he’s sound fond of sampling. But I say, don’t listen to what he says, or the parodies of what he says. Look at what he does. Which is coordinating the Saxon reoccupation of London whilst weathering the Great Heathen Army and increasingly irate calls from his PR team. Gregg is in the shape of his life and he doesn’t mind letting people know it. Will he want to go down as the first factory inspector on the Beeb to be thwarted by women of a certain age? I just can’t see it. The astonishing events of the last week have proved one thing. This man is a supreme competitor. And when the cakes are burned, he remains the only man on national television with the courage and tenacity to keep sampling them.
December 2, 2024 at 1:18 PM
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mrhenrymorris.substack.com
First vid on Bluesky, an Armageddon-contemplating run on the cliff tops….
November 15, 2024 at 5:10 PM