‍ROBOSUB STRIKES AGAIN

‍Sir — Last week the Daily  Express website featured a file picture of Dame Mary Berry and her husband Paul at Buckingham Palace, with a caption that read: “An elderly couple is standing together on a grassy field, smiling and holding an award plaque in front of them.”

‍Words fail me.

‍RICK McNEILL

‍Deepest Devon

‍

‍WHAT’S A CHEQUE, MATE?

‍Good day, wise one. Just had a request from the Eye editor’s secretary requesting payment details and an address so they can send me a cheque. What’s one of those? It was a Matthew Syed piece in The Times which was bollocks of the highest order. I used to furnish the Eye with the idiocies so rampant at the DX.

‍Bestest regards,

‍NICK (North)

‍

‍THE OTHER BLAIR

‍M'Lud, with reference to, and support of, Tel Boy's recent letter [below], I would like to add a further quote from a certain Mr Blair who was not a war criminal: "A nation trained to think hedonistically cannot survive amid peoples who work like slaves and breed like rabbits, and whose chief national industry is war." — Eric Blair (George Orwell).

‍Yours, etc

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍WORRYING ABOUT IMMIGRATION ISN’T FASCIST

‍M’Lud — I am going nuts, as others are, about the growing number of TV and newspaper commentators who seem to lob anyone who speaks out against illegal immigrants flooding in by the boatload as fascist or extreme Right wing.

‍

‍This is often now extended to anyone they don’t agree with who seems to be dumped into the dustbin of tattooed thugs in vests with hairy armpits, against those nice, caring, humane people of the Left.

‍

‍In truth of course, they are mostly hard-working, decent men and women worrying about the future for their families, their culture, traditions and taxes.

‍

‍This is nothing new of course. George Orwell wrote that the word fascism had become meaningless, and many people did not know what it meant when they used it.

‍

‍Orwell had heard it applied to farmers, shopkeepers, social benefits claimants, corporal punishment believers, homosexuals, clerks and even astrologers.

‍

‍And somewhere in the mix fascist also meant racist, which are two entirely different things. The person who uses them often has his own private definition of the words that are entirely wrong, he said. Things don’t change, eh?

‍

‍It is as if decent British parents, sick of crime, sick of those who don’t need passports to travel and sick of our homeless soldiers sleeping on the streets are enemies of the state, even those daring to support wars by our friends and allies abroad.

‍

‍A genuinely fascist regime means one leader only, state control of the Press, big business, corporate enterprises and militarisation of society.

‍

‍Perhaps we are not very far away from it after all. A recent motion of the Neasden Omnibus Company’s workers’ committee was passed that our AI Prime Minister ought to take his head out of his law books on how to handle Trump and Putin, and stand chatting at the bus stops once a week.

‍

‍TEL BOY

‍ Chairman, Democracy Under Threat Committee, Dollis Hill (home of Twiggy).

‍

‍HEADLESS AT ST BRIDE’S 

‍Dear Lord Drone — I was delighted to see David Richardson’s unearthed photos of the Daily Express’s ‘sports’ teams in the 80s. They brought back many happy memories including the one of Jimmy the editorial driver, pictured with the cricketers.

‍ 

‍As I recall his job wasn’t very demanding as most reporters and photographers had their own cars anyway but this was in the days when the DX boasted an aviation correspondent and a fine arts correspondent so, hey, a mostly-on-standby driver was neither here nor there.

‍ 

‍Jimmy also did a Saturday shift on the Sunday Express but when he learned that Danny McGrory and I were getting married at St. Bride’s on a Saturday he insisted that he would drive me there.

‍ 

‍“I really want to do this, Liz,” he told me. “All I have to do on a Saturday is drive [John] Junor to El Vino’s for lunch, wait for him there and drive him back afterwards.” (As many of you will know El Vino’s was probably around 200 yards along Fleet Street)

‍ 

‍“I’ll ring in sick. He can bloody well walk for once.”

‍ 

‍He duly picked me up from my home in North London and chauffeured me down to Fleet Street in the office Cortina. However as he turned right at Ludgate Circus I noticed that he seemed to be slipping down in his seat. By the time we arrived at the church – opposite the Express – his head was virtually below the wheel. “I can’t let them see me,” he whispered.

‍ 

‍I therefore began my wedding by stepping from what appeared to be a driverless car.

‍ 

‍History does not record how Junor reached his watering hole.

‍ 

‍LIZ GILL

‍

‍DID YOU WORK IN MANCHESTER?

‍I am currently researching the Daily Express Building in Manchester as part of an architecture project. I’m particularly interested in gaining first-hand insight into what it was like to work in the building.

‍

‍I was wondering if you might be able to connect me with someone who previously worked there.

‍

‍The aim of the interview is to better understand the working environment, daily life, and experiences within the building. It would take around 20 minutes and can be done at a time that suits, either by phone, video call, or email.

‍

‍I am studying at the Manchester School of Architecture, and my group has been set the following question:

‍

‍“How did the Daily Express Building use materiality to advertise its image in the North West?”

‍

‍I’d really appreciate any help you can offer.

‍

‍Kind regards,

‍

‍FRANCIS McLAUGHLIN

‍CONTACT FRANCIS AT

‍mclaughlinfmg@gmail.com

‍BBC’S SINISTER TV LICENCE CAMPAIGN

‍M'Lud, if it pleases you, I would like to convey an open letter:

‍

‍Dear State Retard, the BBC says it is shocked by the latest scandal involving one of its stars. Apparently, it involved alleged sexual misbehaviour and unproven criminal conduct.

‍

‍Shocked? I don't think anyone else will be.

‍

‍Keep paying your licence fee, even if you do not watch the woke broadcaster, otherwise you will be prosecuted. You won't be shocked by that preposterous demand.

‍

‍So, it may now be appropriate to investigate a very worthy BBC agent by the name of John Hales. He is the man who signed many threatening and harassing letters demanding money from me for a licence when I did not have a television in my London flat.

‍

‍I never managed to encounter him.

‍

‍On reflection, his menacing signatures often seemed to be quite different.

‍Surely, these could not have been further examples of BBC falsifications?

‍He was a bully. A shade of the Communist men of menace I encountered in Poland during martial law, Beijing before I was expelled, Romania, even after Ceausescu, etc.

‍

‍He took to writing low-key little letters telling me that enforcement officers could visit me during the evenings or at weekends.

‍

‍I phoned his ivory tower number and was kept holding on, no doubt so that they could charge extra for the call, before I could tell them that I hadn't got a set.

‍

‍No matter, the letters kept coming. Had I been old or nervous, they would have frightened me. Somebody was watching and threatening me. Yet I was innocent. I found myself looking for strangers loitering in my street at night and checking for unfamiliar cars outside before I left for work.

‍

‍I became slightly paranoid about it. It went on for years. Yet I was innocent with no chance of being proven guilty, wasn't I?

‍

‍Not, it seems, to Mr Hales and his very powerful friends. Who, of course, would not be exerting their very same intimidating power to abuse little girls or boys.

‍

‍Such a man should have figured in one of the BBC's acclaimed consumer protection shows. But they wouldn't expose themselves, would they? (Or pay anybody else thousand of pounds of recycled licence money to).

‍I called them several more times and was very rude. I told them in direct Anglo-Saxon that I wanted them to remember me because I had no television.

‍

‍The letters kept coming: officers from the TV licensing Enforcement Division had been authorised to visit my home and interview me under caution; there would be a full investigation; I was suspected of wilful evasion of payment; I must take steps to avoid action. In big red letters I was told: "Your details are being passed to our enforcement officers."

‍They had no alternative but to proceed with the final steps of their investigation.

‍

‍I had become Kafka's Joseph K.

‍

‍I was told what to expect in court.

‍

‍Notes were pushed through my door, saying: "I called. You weren't in."

‍"We said we'd call." Another said that I had to get in touch straight away.

‍

‍I stopped throwing the notes away. It would have been cheaper for Auntie to have given me a licence for the TV I didn't have.

‍

‍And John Hales kept on writing. He was bothering me. What right did he have? He must have signed so many notes that he hurt his wrist, because his signature frequently changed. (In light of recent revelations, perhaps it was some other activity that enfeebled his wrist.) I counted one pile of threats before I binned them. There were about 60.

‍

‍The last ones were intended jointly for me and Jack in the lower flat.

‍He died long ago.

‍

‍This sort of thing may well have happened in all those nasty foreign countries that our State Broadcaster liked to deride, but it shouldn't happen here.

‍

‍So, now I have retired and relocated, the old bulldog has turned. Now I will be at home more, waiting for Mr Hales. When he arrives, I intend to perform a citizen's arrest, if there are no police available. My grounds could be: demanding money with menaces; demanding money under false pretences; fraud; conduct likely to cause a breach of the peace; intimidation; harassment; blackmail; stalking, maybe even assault if he resists arrest.

‍

‍Or, since I now have time on my hands, I might seek him out: on a Sunday afternoon, say, when he is relaxing, probably by pulling the wings off — or sodomising — flies. Or a Saturday evening when he is watching Strictly Come Dancing so he can applaud the disabled trans sexually indeterminate dwarfs, or early one morning when he is still dreaming of being a guard in Auschwitz, or Trump torturer.

‍

‍Now it is my turn . . . I could even find out where he lives.

‍

‍There is a possibility that he won't be in jail.

‍

‍Yet.

‍

‍Yours, etc.

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍ROCK HARD
Sir — A so-called columnist pads out his latest contribution in the Drone with a fantasy about a Swedish lady who had a sexual liaison with the Berlin Wall. As it happens, I have some graffiti-covered fragments of the wall (see pic) which were given to me by Jean Rook on her return from covering the Fall in 1989. Up until now I had no idea that they may have a sexual connotation. Do I need counselling? 

‍APPREHENSIVE 

‍EC4

‍No, just a cold bath and bromide in your morning cuppa — Ed

‍

‍RYLED …

‍Dear  Lord — Back in DX features we had to let a lot of crap go through because super-salaried byline columnists were ’entitled to their opinion’. But even with the likes of Jean Rook or (on the MoS) Julie Burchill, there were limits. When wholly inaccurate statements were made subs did what subs should do.

‍

‍So has the rarely heard, or needed, cry of Who subbed this shit? been thundering from the undoubtedly overstaffed back bench at The Drone?

‍

‍I refer to the latest salvo from Ms Orliff, reverting to English after her Spanish, (Argentinian?) comment the other day. She now says: ‘Much harrumphing from the Drone’s butch, bellicose Gotcha Gang as they condemn Haitch’s regret that lives were lost when the Belgrano was sunk...’

‍

‍As with your lamentation over the DX's weird splash about a supermarket chain shutting branches this is bending the facts way beyond breaking point.

‍

‍I and the great Tel of Neasden commenting on Ms Handcart’s original remarks in no way condemned ‘Haitch’s regret’. Indeed I endorsed it. What we did object to was her believing that a necessary and legal act of war  against fascist tyrants was a matter ‘to our shame’.

‍

‍There’s a bit of a difference wouldn't you say M'Lud, even if neither of the double-aitch duo can see it? I don't think a cut in their massive wages is called for but perhaps a little adjustment to their expenses claims for a while would concentrate their minds.

‍

‍T.RYLE

‍Click-Bait Corner

‍North Circular

‍

‍PS Rather rummy, don't you think, that the North Circular has corners such as Henlys and Staples?

‍

‍WASTEFUL INQUIRIES

‍M'lud, am I alone in thinking that the long awaited, (er…yeah) Covid inquiry is probably the most expensive scissors and paste job ever?

‍

‍Described in a Times article last year as, 'A bureaucratic, lawyer-driven, backwards-looking, largely pointless exercise put in place for reasons that already seem lost in the mists of time but with an unstoppable momentum of its own.'

‍

‍It has taken years and hundreds of millions of pounds to bring the public such earth shattering revelations such as: 'The report also finds that the cancellation of non-urgent care, such as knee and hip replacements, had a "debilitating effect" on patients' lives and mobility.'

‍

‍Really? No kidding.

‍

‍Were not shortages, delays and funding problems bought to our attention at the time?

‍

‍The public were screwed by dodgy contracts, fraudulent claims etc during the Covid emergency and we've been screwed for a further £200 million, (at least) it seems.

‍

‍Perhaps there ought to be an inquiry into this scandalous waste of public funds.

‍

‍STEVE MILL

‍

‍GEDDES: STILL WAITING FOR JUSTICE

‍M'lud — As usual Alan Frame nails it when writing about Gerry Adams and his possible connection to the death of Philip Geddes. I can't go that far, but what I can say with certainty is that our intelligence services know exactly who planted the Harrods bomb which killed Philip on 17 December 1983.

‍ 

‍The spooks, and successive governments they've served, have had this information for almost 40 years (don't ask me how I know) but have done nothing — nothing — with it. 

‍ 

‍Six were killed that day, 90 others were injured, and nobody has been brought to justice. No names have ever been mentioned in connection with the attack, even though they're known. As far as Whitehall and Westminster are concerned, it's all past history. 

‍ 

‍Tell that to those few of the Geddes family who still remain, and who think and speak of him almost daily.

‍ 

‍CHRISTOPHER WILSON

‍

‍DRILL BABY, DRILL

‍M'Lud — As the situation in the Middle East enters its third week, and the Strait of Hormuz remains blocked to shipping, oil and gas prices are skyrocketing. So not only does this country face an economic and security emergency, but the conflict has also exposed our energy vulnerability. 

‍

‍Yet unbelievably Energy Secretary Ed Miliband is opposing new oil and gas exploration in the North Sea, and has recently claimed that his madcap net zero crusade 'provides the UK with energy security'. Really? 

‍

‍We are reported to be fast running out of strategic gas reserves, while the price of oil has more than doubled — despite the 32-nation International Energy Agency agreeing to release hundreds of millions of barrels of crude from their emergency stockpiles. This is hitting industry, motorists and those using home heating oil. The very 'working people', in fact, this government is constantly promising to help with the ever-rising cost of living. 

‍

‍We need dependable oil and gas supplies to avoid severe disruption to hospitals, transport networks, manufacturing and essential services. The UK's defence capabilities could also be compromised. 

‍ 

‍Few would argue that net zero is (eventually) desirable. But until such time as the whole of the UK can depend on wind and solar to provide all the clean energy it needs we will be reliant to some extent on fossil fuels — plus nuclear — for power. Perhaps it's time the virtue-signalling Miliband faced reality, joined his leader by performing a U-turn and once again allowed drilling in the North Sea. We may not benefit during this current crisis, but we will have real energy security in the event of any future conflicts.

‍ 

‍JEFF BOYLE,

‍c/o The (freezing) Sticks Residential Home

‍

‍BELGRANO WAS A LEGITIMATE TARGET

‍M’Lud, with reference to the letter from proud Geordie and patriot Mr T Ryle, why is it that our once proud nation should be ashamed of itself over the sinking of the Belgrano at a time of war, as your columnist Helena Handcart says?

‍

‍This jumps right out of the box marked: “British soldiers beware! Don’t shoot the enemy or you could end up in court!”

‍

‍As the members of the Neasden Omnibus Debating Society asked at their recent meeting in the works canteen: “When is a bloody war not a war. then?”

‍

‍Helena and the Hindsight Brigade seem to believe that talking to the enemy is the only way forward, even when your head is being chopped off.

‍

‍In the case of the Belgrano, they forget that its own captain Hector Bonzo confirmed that his ship was manoeuvring on a combat mission at the time and the sinking was a ‘lamentably legal’ act of war.

‍

‍The ship, packed with arms and soldiers posed a terrifying threat to the British Task Force, and the captain admitted his directions were part of a pincer movement designed to attack the British fleet.

‍

‍An attempt by victims’ families to pursue legal action in European courts failed and Defence Minister John Knott said: “Ships can always turn around in a surprise attack.”

‍

‍After the sinking, the rest of the Argentinian fleet stayed home and put the kettle on. British lives saved! That’s a result, Helena.

‍

‍TENERIFE TEL

‍Neasden Omnibus Debating Society, Dollis Hill.

‍17 March 2026

‍

‍WHAT A WASTE

‍Sir, Down the years, we journos have helped the police with their inquiries by publishing pictures of such clever devices as artist’s impressions, Photofits, Identikits, etc. Now West Midlands Police, courtesy of, among others, the BBC News website, have broken new ground. 

‍

‍Seeking the miscreant who murdered a guy then dumped him in a wheelie bin in Coventry, they described his intricate tattoos and other markings. But they didn’t provide helpful drawings of this distinctive graffiti. Instead, they put up this picture of … the green wheeliebin! Is it yours, they ask. 

‍

‍That’s pretty much the same as millions of others. Even though there have since been arrests, the baffled plod really need the expert help of, say, the extraordinary Forensics Soil Lady or the Forensics Pollen Lady who have helped solve dastardly crimes by tracing the origins of dirt on shoes and boots and plant cast-offs on clothing. Presumably the clueless cops will have to wait for someone who will grass on the owner!

‍

‍NICK HILL (retd.),

‍North.

‍

‍ER, COME AGAIN?

‍I see Senora Orliff is taking up the cudgels for her sister diarist Ms Handcart and using what I assume is the mother tongue of one or both of them. So I'll dust down my shaky memory and reply in mine while en route to Walker for an overdue  Larn Yersel Geordie refresher course.:

‍Well aah see it this way like canny lass. Aah divvent ivvor want te see blude spilt. If it’s gannen te be spilt anyway, aa'd prefor it te be hisn rather than mine, but. Of me enemy rather than me marra, of the aggressor rather than his victim like. 

‍Alreet pet?

‍

‍T.RYLE

‍Sawtry Services, A1 Northbound.

‍Do you have a clue what Mr Ryle is on about? Answers on a postcard, etc, etc… — Ed.

‍

‍MEIN GOTT!

‍M'lud — Far be it from me to mention the war, but The Daily Telegraph, if you please, has been sold to German publisher Axel Springer, and the UK's entry for this year's pisspoor Eurovision 'Song Contest' by Look Mum No Computer (me neither!) has partly German lyrics. Could the sale and the song, I wonder, have been influenced in any way by our wooden PM and his Marxist mates in a dastardly and desperate attempt to finally fulfil their dream of overturning Brexit and rejoining the EU? 

‍ SUSPICIOUS PENSIONER,

‍c/o The Sticks Rest Home

‍

‍BELGRANO SINKING SAVED LIVES

‍My Lord — I await with interest the reaction of my old colleague El Tel of Neasden to Helena Handcart's opinion that the sinking of ARA General Belgrano, 44 years ago come May, remains an event ‘to our shame’.

‍

‍While I was among those who thought The Sun's reaction to one of the Falklands conflict’s decisive moments was on the modest side of reasonable, I'll try to restrict this overlong reply to unemotional facts which I think only Ms Handcart and the more rabid among Guardian readers could challenge.

‍

‍Belgrano was the flagship of Task Group 79.3 which also comprised two destroyers and a tanker. The group was the southern arm of a pincer movement designed to sink the vulnerable Royal Navy fleet with its c. 26,000 soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines, auxiliaries and merchant seamen.

‍

‍There was a 200-mile exclusion zone round the Falklands. The Belgrano had moved out of this zone at the point of attack. However, as she remained an enemy capital ship on the high seas during war this point is only relevant to a) the fascist military junta who had taken time off from murdering its own citizens to invade a small, peaceful foreign island 220 miles away; b) those few back home who will always take the side of any enemy of Britain and c) those for whom any and every action by Prime Minister Thatcher was, ipso facto, evil. 

‍

‍An Argentinian exception to the junta’s claim that the sinking was a war crime was Captain Hector Bonzo of the Belgrano, who confirmed that his ship was on a combat mission, that she was not sailing away from the Falklands but manoeuvring and who described the sinking as a ‘lamentably legal’ act of war. 

‍

‍That legal act of war ensured the rest of the Argentinian Navy, including the potentially formidable carrier Veinticinco de Mayo, stayed in home ports for the duration. The deaths of 323 Argentine sailors is, of course, lamentable. But given that the lives of perhaps ten or more times that number of British servicemen and women were spared, and a few thousand inoffensive, faraway Brits were left to live their peaceful lives makes the sinking a matter ‘to our shame’ only to a strange bunch of sanctimonious, smug, too-good-for-this-world weirdos.

‍

‍On that note, over to you Tel.

‍

‍Yours & etc

‍T.RYLE

‍c/o St Jude’s NW11

‍PS: Good click-bait for octogenarians though.

‍

‍FAME AND SHAME

‍Sir — The comment that our curlers at the Winter Olympics were British when they won but Scottish if they lost, brought back memories of sprinter Ben Johnson at the 1988 Seoul Olympics. When he beat Carl Lewis and Linford Christie in the 100 metres the Toronto headlines blasted "Canadian Ben wins gold". Days later after his positive dope test and disqualification they changed to "Jamaican Brings Shame on Canada".

‍Cheers

‍JOHN JACKSON

‍

‍MUDDLE BUNCH WOES

‍M'Lud —  In answer to my old chum Nick Hill's perceptive and witty letter on predictive text, he will recall that cock-ups such as this are nothing new. In fact, over 30 years ago in our time together on the DX Features subs' desk there were certain members of our Middle Bench who shall remain nimrats (you see, even the word nameless has become a bloody victim of this keyboard curse) whose spelling left much to be desired, even with the aid of a stack of dictionaries. It provided HillN (in joke) and I with a great source of humour, but when Mendelssohn becomes Mandelson it is beyond a joke.

‍BOYLJ,

‍Da'n Sarf

‍

‍MANGLEDSON

‍Sir — Googling the music to be performed by the splendid Hanover Band at Lancaster University the other day, our old friend, predictive text, jumped in uninvited and mangled the running order, “with works by Mozart, Grieg and Mandelson”.  There you have it: Mendelssohn, composer of note, Mandelson, noted for notoriety. 

‍NICK HILL,

‍C/o The North.

‍P.S. Some of you may have read that the inventor of predictive text died recently. His funfair is a weed on monkey.

‍

‍DEVIOUS ROYALS

‍M'Lud: As we watch for the appearance of Queer Stalin on Tower Hill, it is worth considering that it is highly possible that Mandy was sent to Washington because he was on the same wavelength as Trump: ie he knew secrets.

‍

‍Don't also forget that Blair was known as Miranda — or the Little Britain sketches about the prime minister and his bent aide. Morgan McSweeney was also close to Mandelson and was seen as a latter day master of the political dark arts of seizing power: something that seemed more important to Labour than pursuing a policy for the people.

‍

‍But King Charlie is now also under pressure. He has been trying to save Andrew's daughters from being shamed. But they were aged 22 and 19 when they visited Epstein after he was initially released. They were adults, not children, who knew what was going on.

‍

‍Charles has dumped his brother to save the royal reputation, but he may need to do more. His abhorrence of his brother's behaviour on moral grounds is somewhat weakened by his own adulterous behaviour towards Diana.

‍

‍Royals have always been supremely devious — even Prince Phil came under suspicion — but we still need an independent head of state, not a politically elected president. Perhaps we should simply settle for a totem pole (it could be in the shape of a penis).

‍

‍The late lamented Queen must be an aghast ghost.

‍

‍Matters will not rest easily here. It's a mucky and murky business and there are even stains on the carpets of Buck House...

‍

‍Mebbe it will take an intervention of another sort of Willy to eventually sort it all out.

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍PRICKS…

‍The World Anti-Doping Agency could investigate if evidence emerges that male ski jumpers are injecting their penises in a bid to improve sporting performance. Hyaluronic acid, which is not banned in sport, can be used to increase penis circumference by one or two centimetres.

‍

‍Wada director general Olivier Niggli said: "If anything was to come to the surface, we would look at it and see if it is doping related". The mind boggles!

‍

‍Well as the advert says,"Every little helps".

‍STEVE MILL

‍

‍CLEVER DICK

‍Dear Lord Drone. I would like to thank your cinema critic Dick Dismore for his excellent piece on the new film Hamnet. Because of it my wife and I watched it, even though it would not be our normal cup of tea. Suffice it to say the two hours zipped by. And yes, tissues were required at the end.

‍PHIL JOHNSON, 

‍Tenerife

‍

‍A PAIR OF TITS

‍M'Lud — Once again I am bemused by the BBC. When it mentions Tommy Robinson it frequently announces that his real name is Stephen Yaxley-Lennon and that he is extremely right-wing. Yet when it reports about Zack Polanski, it doesn't seem to say that his original name was David Paulden, who used to advertise that he could enlarge mammary glands with the power of thought.

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍GIUFFRE EXPOSED

‍M'lud, the Mail on Sunday brings us, (yet another) bombshell story from the Epstein bombshell factory. This story features a name not previously associated with the Epstein circus.

‍

‍ The MoS relates that back in June 2020 the UK's National Crime Agency contacted the FBI to make them aware that the Countess of Iveagh, (formerly Clare Hazell) was 'allegedly a close contact of Epstein' and that a woman, (name redacted) claimed that she was 'sexually abused' by her. The MoS reveals that the unnamed woman was, wait for it....Virginia Giuffre. Well fancy that. The MoS notes that, (surprise, surprise) there is no proof that Ginny's allegation is true.

‍

‍In 2020, writing on X, Ginny accused Hazell of ‘sexually abusing her' when she was a minor. But in a 2021 interview with Daniel Bates Ginny claims the pair were merely 'intimate'. The MoS article does not attempt to explain this change of tone, obviously the writers were unaware of Ginny's predisposition to make stuff up!

‍

‍Speaking of making stuff up, there is a court case rumbling on in America. On one side is the Giuffre estate and on the other is artist Rina Oh. It seems that Ginny had publicly accused Rina of being one of Epstein's crack recruitment team and of physical and sexual abuse. Rina rather took exception to this and court action followed. Bizarrely Rina Oh claims that she herself was used and abused by Epstein and that Ginny Giuffre was one of the abusers!

‍

‍One could be forgiven for thinking that just about the whole of the Epstein epic is a never ending round of uncorroborated and unproven claim and counter claim, gleefully reported by the media who couldn't care less if any of it is true. After all a great story doesn't need to be a true story.

‍ 

‍STEVE MILL

‍30th January 2026

‍

‍TRUMP’S CLAP TRAP

‍M'Lud — The behaviour of Donald Trump has recently been described as unprecedented for a country's leader.

‍I can think of two other examples: Emperor Bokassa of the Central African Republic, and Idi Amin of Uganda.

‍Both were rumoured to have been suffering from tertiary syphilis. 

‍Incidentally, Amin Christened himself the Last King of Scotland. Could his claim one day be Trumped?

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍NO INVITATION? FUCK ‘EM

‍Sir — I see that a So-called Columnist (see below) is hosting a fantasy soirée with a guest list which includes all sorts through the ages, from Beaverbrook to a Molly Parkin manqué. I query Handel (wot, no Mozart!) and someone called Toto (nice plug though, Kemo Sabe). Most revealing is the inclusion of Liz Truss which, I suspect, is a fevered reminiscence of Matron saying: ‘Now cough, Frame minor.’ Still, as I haven’t been invited, fuck ‘em. 

‍HERMIONE ORLIFF, Mr

‍

‍DAISY OPENS HIS LUNCH

‍M'lud, I have a vivid memory of being in the Hickey office on the first day of Compton Miller's editorship. He and his team had enjoyed a long lunch, (I think we can take it for granted that strong drink was involved ) and settled down to write their copy. 

‍

‍So far so Fleet Street. As the afternoon wore on it became obvious, (and boy did it become obvious) that there was a developing conflict between Richard's lunch and his digestive system and this conflict inevitably escalated to open warfare. The result being that at regular intervals Richard would break off from editing, turn his head to the right and deposit a portion of his lunch into a handily placed waste paper bin. 

‍

‍The staff adopted a 'keep calm and carry on' approach, except for Hickey

‍veteran John Roberts. Every time Richard felt another song coming on poor John would jump up and exit the office at a rate of knots. 

‍

‍ Why Richard didn't simply visit the Express first aid department when he began to feel unwell only he could explain, but it being his first day as editor I guess he was determined to carry on regardless.

‍

‍ I can't recall who the Hickey secretary was at that time but whoever it was had my sympathy because they were far closer to the 'action' than I was!

‍

‍ At that time the Hickey page had it's own office in Aitken House so I don't know if anyone apart from those present in the office had any idea of the unfolding drama. 

‍

‍Those who witnessed would never forget. 

‍

‍ STEVE MILL

‍

‍DAISY’S LADY

‍I was a down-table news sub on the Evening News, fresh in from the provinces, and I remember someone asking Richard if his mum called herself Mrs. Miller or Mrs. Compton Miller. He replied: “Actually, she's Lady Compton Miller.”

‍I still makes me laugh nearly 50 years later. RIP Richard.

‍RICHARD McWILLIAMS

‍

‍FOXED …
M'Lud — I find it hard to reconcile the fact that trail hunting is so cruel to animals that it must be banned, but halal and kosher slaughter are quite acceptable to the party of Queer Stalinmer.

‍Yours, FREDDY and FERDIE FOX,

‍Nutwood,

‍The Black Lubyanka,

‍EC4Y 1HT.

‍

‍OLD HAT

‍My old and dear friend Tel Boy talks of me as straw-boatered and wearing shiny suits. While I confess to donning a Panama at a jaunty angle in high summer, I discard any suitings from my extensive wardrobe if they show the first signs of becoming shiny through excessive use. My old school abandoned the boater in the 1950s and even Dulwich College, alma mater of that great Man of the People Nigel Farage, no longer features them.

‍

‍As for this country needing another Churchill, we do indeed but only a Churchill as he was during WW2. As our peacetime prime minister post war he was hopelessly out of touch, still behaving like the Edwardian aristocrat he was. Boris Johnson thought he was his reincarnation but sadly, like most of Johnson's character, it was pure fantasy.

‍

‍As a gesture of goodwill, I am sending the fine patriots of the Neasden Terminus a bottle of brown ale so they may celebrate the birth of Our Lord. I shall be keeping the post-lunch peppermints to myself. 

‍Yrs,

‍FRAMBO

‍

‍WE NEED ANOTHER CHURCHILL

‍Dear M’Lud, it is with great despair that I have been democratically elected to speak on behalf of a meeting of what your straw-boatered columnist, Mr Alan (Flip Flop) Frame describes as the so-called English headbangers in the Neasden Omnibus Company canteen, in his attack for their apparent support of Nigel Farage and control of our borders.

‍

‍Churchill’s death in January 1965 cast a dark shadow, the beginning of an end to pride and patriotism in Britain. Instead, it has been replaced by a series of stoney-faced gargoyles chipping away at the very spirit of our nation and the opening of a door to radicalisation of us all. Even our dear friend Mr Frame, known for his shiny suits, gentlemanly softness and tip-toe politics secretly knows that.

‍

‍Now even Churchill’s statue seems to have been erected for urination and our dear Union Jack flutters like a red flag to a raging bull in our own society and our courageous armed forces are dismantled to danger point.

‍

‍Parliament no longer reflects the will of the people. Starmer branded Boris a liar over a piece of cake and then came to office and lied over his manifesto.  Soon no doubt he will call a vote over the vote we had on Brexit.

‍

‍As the majority shout and scream at their TV sets every time they see another boatload of uninvited foreign guests wade ashore, courtesy of Starmer’s reinforced Border Farce, landlords boot our own people on to the streets, where the unemployed now wait shivering in tents.

‍

‍It is no wonder the lads and lasses of the Neasden Omnibus Company and all patriotic Brits call for a Churchill. To rise and lead us with personality, guts and determination. Make us proud again. A bit like Trump, whether we like it or not.

‍

‍After lunch peppermints all round please, Mr Frame.

‍

‍TEL BOY, political cupboard, 3rd floor canteen, Neasden Omnibus Company, Dollis Hill, the old London. 

‍

‍ANOTHER NEWS AGENCY TO CLOSE

‍Just rediscovered the Drone! It’s brilliant, amusing, rueful and sad all at the same time..

‍

‍The Anglia Press Agency — launched in the early 70s by Daily Sketch man Geoff Cooper and photographer Martin Gilfeather (Express) — is about to quietly slip away.

‍

‍(You will have doubtless chronicled the rapidly increasing decline of our trade. The National Association of Press Agencies once represented the top 20 agencies  in the country. I doubt half a dozen of the originals are left…)

‍

‍When Geoff and Martin announced to colleagues 50+ years ago that they were quitting to set up an agency  in East Anglia, baffled colleagues asked: “Why are you going out there?  You never read any stories from there..”

‍

‍“Exactly..” was their reply

‍

‍Kind regards

‍RICHARD GOSS

‍

‍TRIAL BY JURY

‍M'Lud — In the absence of the familiar hordes of young and old semi-pro campaigners blocking London streets in protest against whatever's in fashion, or, indeed, a disapproving murmur from the Human Rights industry, I trust you have commissioned The Drone's mighty columnists, with their proven influence on major Government policy, to give us their opinions on what I genuinely think is the greatest scandal of our turbulent times.

‍

‍I refer to the impending loss of the 1,100-year-old rights of the English to trial by jury, later underlined in Magna Carta.

‍

‍My own opinion of magistrates' justice was formed 66 years ago and has remained, unchanged. I'd just started at the Newcastle Evening Chronicle and was learning about the law courts running copy for, and under the aegis of, a great reporter and lovely man called Joe McKeenan.

‍

‍At Gateshead magistrates' court the press box was carved with legend The Pen Is Mightier Than The Truncheon which I thought funny. “I wish that was true more often”, Joe told me. “But in truth, Terry lad, the law of England is that every man* is innocent until he comes up in a magistrates' court.”

‍

‍In truth I honestly think this savage axing of basic law is a sea change for our country, brought about by a hard-of-thinking Justice Secretary and, God help us, Deputy PM who couldn't be bothered to turn up to defend it in the Commons. He sent in an apparently brain-dead junior with all of 18-months experience as an MP to stonewall objections.

‍

‍So In The Drone We Must Trust

‍

‍T. RYLE

‍c/o St Jude's NW11 until the emigration papers come through.

‍

‍*Joe was no misogynist. It was just the expression at the time. I know he would have specifically included women if challenged.

‍

‍VICTORY FOR HITLER

‍M'lud, report suggests a landslide election victory for Adolf. The Metro details that Adolf Hitler is set to retain his council seat...in Namibia. No not a distant relative of Der Fuhrer, it's actually the unfortunately named Adolf Hitler Uunona, 59. As you'd expect he's an anti-apartheid candidate. Back in 2020 he won 85% of the vote, Doubtless it was all transparently democratic. 

‍Adolf, (poor sod) said his father named him after one of the 20th century's greatest monsters but 'probably didn't understand what Hitler stood for'.

‍Presumably Adolf's father was also unaware that pre-Nazi German colonial settlers attempted to exterminate an entire race of people in what is modern day Namibia. 

‍What an idiot.

‍STEVE MILL

‍27 November 2025

‍

‍PARLIAMENT’S SINISTER UNDERCURRENT

‍M’Lud, it is not often that I get stuck into the political affray, but our dear pal, Drone columnist Richard Dismore, hits the nail of Labour's coffin right on the head this week, when he highlights the plight of ordinary people as we get blown along like tumbleweed to the Doomsday Budget.

‍What new breed of socialism are we living with today when Labour MP Cat Eccles tells the voters that the Home Secretary is just "trying to appease the electorate" with her tough plans to stop illegal immigration?" Just pandering to populist opinion.

‍My God! What is so wrong about listening to the view of the majority of voters, who pay her nearly £100,000 a year? 

‍MPs like Eccles who are deaf to the fears, hopes and aspirations of the majority of voters, are part of what is wrong with parliament today. It has a sinister undercurrent.

‍The hypocrisy of it all. How can we forget that Prime Minister Starmer, who spent months calling Boris Johnson a liar over a slice of Victoria sponge, went on to lie about nearly every manifesto promise he made to get himself and fruitcake Eccles elected to power. 

‍Mostly on a Stop The Boats ticket. 

‍Yours,
TEL BABE,
Neasden Omnibus Democratic Preservation Society, Works canteen, Dollis Hill. 

‍

‍SAD DECLINE OF THE EXPRESS

‍My Lord, I read the Drone’s report on alleged plagiarism in the Daily Express with mounting anger and sadness. Clearly, Reach bosses no longer care whether their papers are brought out with integrity or accuracy. Most of the professionals have left the building.

‍Veteran music and showbiz journalist Garry Bushell, 70, took to Facebook to announce that he had been “prematurely retired” from his job as editor of the Sunday Express Review pages.

‍Alongside his valedictory piece, he posted a Review cover featuring an interview with Ray Davies, of The Kinks. Alas, there was a word missing in the standfirst. It read: “Ray Davies tells Garry Bushell why he’s still proud of his first big hit with the Kinks and how he can’t wait to back on stage”.

‍It’s a sorry Waterloo Sunset on the career of A Well Respected Man. Meanwhile, those with any pretensions to journalism remaining on the Express must be wondering Who’ll Be the Next in Line.

‍Respectfully yours,
DICK DISMORE

‍

‍EXPRESS INSURANCE

‍Dear M'Lud — I was reading the interesting piece by Steve Mill of our parish, about the Express insurance certificate he has found in his files. This was an idea dreamed up by our founder Arthur Pearson in 1900 and lasted for many years. It was extremely popular. 

‍You can buy these certificates on eBay and other sites for around £4.50 a copy. Pearson was known to be an ideas person and was behind most promotions during his ownership. 

‍I did a piece on the insurance coverage some time ago in the Drone, and take this opportunity to bemoan the fact that in my view, Express Newspapers, was not a good caretaker of the title's history archives in many different areas, particularly letters and cuttings and other memorabilia. 

‍ Best,
TERRY MANNERS

‍

‍PUTTING THE HIC IN HICKEY

‍Sir — It was only after we helped Lord Frame of Ludgate into a taxi that we started to count the bottles (his column yesterday). 

‍Contrary to his recollection, our lunch table consumed six white, five red, four pink, six sharpeners, three Babychams, a Cointreau with an umbrella and several barmaid's aprons.   

‍Fleet Street's drinking spirit lives on and we tolerate no whitewash. No Wokery!

‍Yours, foaming at the mouth,
(Ld) WISLON of ULLAGE

‍PS  Our lunch calls to mind the Mirror's Peter Senn, El Vino recidivist,  who at chucking out time floated down the Street to Blackfriars Tube and stuck his head through the grille.

‍"How can I help, Sir?"

‍"Larjesh ginntonic, my man, make it snappy, traintocatch"

‍7 November 2025

‍

‍LEVESON FALLOUT

‍M'Lud, Some time ago, towards the end of the Leveson Inquiry, a Met police drinking acquaintance began to make it clear that he was not comfortable being seen in my company.

‍He always seemed to be on the other side of the pub, and nervous if I approached him.

‍I also knew his brother and, through him, convinced the caring copper that good men should not be nervous of association, because bad ones often were not.

‍He was uneasy about Leveson's fracturing of links between journalists and police because publicity was often vital in solving crime.

‍But more than the Leveson fallout, what really angered him was the effect of having to pursue old alleged child abuse cases, whilst current ones were being overlooked.

‍Traumatised victims of famous people like Jimmy Savile were being encouraged to come forward. Merely proving that they had been in his company would probably be believed.

‍And there was money in it — compensation — even though in the eyes of the law Savile would always be innocent because he would never stand trial.

‍(I didn't follow up on my offer to buy him a "Jimmy Savile is innocent" T shirt.)

‍More than once, he became quite irate about cases of current alleged child abuse being overshadowed so that ghosts could be chased.

‍Vulnerable young people were being abused in the present, he averred.

‍He darkly wondered if there was another agenda.

‍Years later come claims of grooming gang cover-ups in London boroughs on the precarious grounds of not disturbing community relations.

‍Khan you believe that?

‍PAT PRENTICE

‍

‍