Financial lunacy reigns unchallenged in the kitchen

I saw two things today that convinced me this country has utterly lost even a fleeting glimpse of the plot.

First, a restaurant review by Feargus O’Sullivan said a place called The Urban Turban in Notting Hill was “a good place for a superswift authentic Indian nosh-up with pals” – which means a quick Indian meal if you don’t follow London journalese.

The service only rated one star out of five, the food only four out of five, the “vibe” – which maybe means the number of odious braying twats in the place – only three out of five and, wait for it, it only costs £80 ($120!!) for a meal for two. Actually, they serve “Indian Tapas” – a mongrel Indo-Hispanic concept.

What planet is Feargus on? I’ll tell you: the planet Other People’s Money. A few weeks ago my friend Professor Srikumar Rao took Joe Sugarman and me to one of London’s five Michelin-starred Indian restaurants, the Qilon. That certainly was worth that kind of money, but come on, Feargus. £80 for a few snacks?

Well I’d barely swallowed Feargus’s load of rancid biryani when along came some more indigestible crap. The papers said today that the government plans to pay obese people to eat less. With what? Other people’s money again.

Hey, wake up, Gordon baby and smell the toilet. We’re in it. There’s a financial disaster going on. You nurtured it. You’ve had our money already. We have a massive deficit. Surely even someone as arse-marooned as you must remember it as you swan around telling the world what to do (who gives a shit what you think, by the way?)

Tell you what, if you want to pig it up, friends, be my guest. It’s absolutely none of the government’s business, but if it were I have a better idea. You should be paying us, not the other way round.