Party Lines

Getting into the Olympic spirit?

Daisy Waugh

All right, so maybe the symbolly thingummy is a bit naff.

Oh it’s dreadful! It gives me a headache just to look at it.

And maybe it’s going to cost us an arm and a leg.

Oh, that logo, Camilla. Looks like a bit of  graffiti from the ghettos…

And yes, maybe London’s going to be an absolute nightmare for everyone — except a few lucky officials.

Don’t even get me started on the specially designated traffic lanes…

And then you listen to Bob Crow — holding the city over a barrel. You know what he wants? Money — literally — not to bring the Tube drivers out on strike during the games.

Beggars belief, doesn’t it? If I had a shotgun, I’d personally go out to whatever scummy part of town he’s holed up in, and blow his brains out!

He wants to ruin it for everyone.

Greed. That’s all it comes down to. You’d think it might be reward enough, to show the world, you know, that the tube runs smoothly.

But no.

Doesn’t he want his city to shine? Like we all do. Why should there be a monetary value on that?

You can’t put a price on National Pride, Camilla.

Makes me ashamed…What must the French think of us? And everyone. The Americans … No wonder this country’s going under!

But Maddie, you know what: So What?

So what?

I’m sick and tired of all these “negative nellies”, moaning on. So WHAT if we can’t afford them? So WHAT if “Bob and Judy” can’t get their tickets for tenpathlon whattie-nottie? So WHAT if the city gets a bit packed.  Don’t you think? Enough is Enough! I don’t care! I’m giving a Big Thumbs Up to the London Olympics!

Ooh, yes. Me too!

It’s just what the country needs at this particular moment. With everything else so gloomy.

A little bit of patriotism!

Some razzamatazz!

It’s about time we Brits put our best foot forward. And, you know: yes — we’re sorry about the colonies or the empire or whatever it is we’re supposed to be sorry for…

But it’s time to move on.  

Show the world what we’re made of.

That’s right. It’s not all Downton Abbey here in GB! We’re not ALL dukes and duchesses.


We have so much more to offer!

Of course we can’t beat the Chinese…

Well. No. Not in, you know, whatever it may be: in the conventional sense, no. But in our own idiosyncratic way! Yes We Can! As President Obama would say!

Ha Ha Ha! Very clever! Yes We Can!

Seriously — I think we’ll put on a fabulous show! I can’t wait!

Are you going to be watching?

Ooh gosh, no. Are you?

Oh, no.

Impossible to get tickets, apparently…

So I heard…

Nigel says that there’s bound to be loads knocking around at the bank closer to the time.

Yes, but…you know…


In any case we’ve let out the house. For a fortune, I may say —

Clever you! I’ve been meaning to get round to it for ages…Jeremy says we’re within reach of some event or other. God knows — I couldn’t care less. But apparently, if you’ve got a nice house there’s an absolute mint to be screwed out of some idiot somewhere!

Well…it seemed madness not to. The city’s going to be packed. Millions of tourists everywhere, cramming on to the tube.

Assuming they’re not on strike!

Quite! And ghastly self-important officials zooming around in their limousines.

Or in Lycra gym pants.


So — you know — good luck to Sebastian Coe and all that.


But we’re spending the whole month in Sardinia…thanks to him. God bless the Olympics!

Bring on the World Cup!

Hear, hear! And God Save the Queen and all that!


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