Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Where's the sick bag when you need one?

Just finished watching the Very Rev' St Tony of Blairyness giving his speech at Brighton - and now I've got my head down the toilet. Can someone please pull the chain. P.S. Tone - you are not allowed to invade another Country on the excuse of regime change - it's against the law, even for saints.

Flier, flier, Pendolino’s on fire……

"Attention, attention, the Virgin Galactic flight to space, the Universe and everywhere is about to depart from gate number 6. Please make sure your tribble pets are all safely stowed. Your Captain is Dan Tiberius Slog ….. have a good trip"…..

So how brill is that then? Yesterday, Sir Richard Branston announced plans to start a new service for the discerning traveller. Sir Dick’s going ‘Galactic’ – straight into space (and back again, hopefully!) – and all for the princely sum of 115 grand per head.

Form a queue?…Hmmm, I don’t know really – seems a bit steep. But it’s still cheaper than a cup of steaming hot Virgin Rail tea…..

As it happened, on the same day, Branston’s brand new supa dupa sexy train service started. The sexy new tilting ‘Pendolino Train’, with sexy new go faster whizz lines down the side is intended to make the journey down the west coast more comfier, more sexier, more quickly-er for the hard pressed, pissed off, British commuter….. I don’t know whether Branston has thought of a sexy new word for the sexy new train service…. ‘Reliable’ would be a good one.

Unfortunately it isn’t. Whilst Richard Branston was playing with scale models of his Virgin spaceship in front of the worlds press. – and with the timing that comedy writers can only dream of. The first train out of Glasgow – bound for London and intending to make the journey in the blink of an eye lasted until Carlisle – some 300 miles short of the intended target. "Sticky brake causing a bit of friction and ‘wheel flattening" – another couple of feeble excuses pulled from the ‘lexicon of utter bollocks’ by the most overworked employee in the entire Virgin organisation, The Director, Bullshit Division.

That’s Pendolinos for you, designed by Italians, built by Italians, bought by Plutocrats, driven by British Train Drivers, until they break down, sold to the Chinese as scrap….

So there’s the choice, the 09:15 from Glasgow to London (eventually) or the 07:30 to space ….. (and oblivion?)…

I bet, even now The Virgin Director – Bullshit Department is concocting some brand new excuses for Virgin Galactic failures of service…..
"We are sorry but the 07:10 Virgin Galactic to space exploded on the runway. This was due to a virulent plague of killer Tribbles eating through the wiring and vapourising the dillithium crystals"…

By way of recompense please accept a free can of Virgin GalactiCola with our compliments"…..

It’s one thing to be dumped on a wet and windy platform in Carlisle – it’s quite another to be stranded just left of Alpha Centauri due to an unforeseen gust from the wrong kind of cosmic wind…

You'll obviously miss that very important appointment by several hundred light years, but its no use swearing your head off, effing and blinding won’t make the relief spaceship arrive any quicker……..

After all, in space no one can hear you blaspheme….