It’s time to ban the balloons… they’re as dangerous as an AK47 and heroin
Party poopers tell us that if you release the balloons into the heavens, you will definitely kill a horse and possibly a turtle
FIRST of all we were told to stop filling balloons with helium at parties because the world only has a finite supply of this important gas and it’s running out.
Then we were told to stop bursting the balloons and inhaling the contents because, after you’d finished talking like Donald Duck, you’d definitely get an infected throat.
And now the party poopers tell us that if you release the balloons into the heavens, you will definitely kill a horse.
An elderly lady in Yorkshire claims that her thoroughbred panicked after eating the string from a party balloon that had fallen into its field.
And now the party poopers tell us that if you release the balloons into the heavens, you will definitely kill a horse.
And that after it had crashed through two gates, it dropped dead. She says that God isn’t sitting in his heaven gathering up all the airborne litter and that instead of releasing balloons at a wedding or a birthday party, it’d be better to “go to church and say a prayer”.
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Yes, but back in the 21st century we must accept that lots of things make a horse panic — puddles, paper bags, wind, sunshine, vans, bright colours, the smell of cucumber, all noises, fog, mirrors, doorknobs, straw, cows, dogs, very small rocks, gravy, actors . . . the list is endless. If we hadBa to ban all of them to keep the nation’s nags calm, life would be pretty dreary.
Amazingly, however, that’s what various groups are actually doing.
It is now illegal to release helium balloons on council-owned land in Brighton and Oxford — that’s predictable, both towns are run by weirdos — as well as Plymouth, Worcester and the Shetland Islands.
Furthermore, conservationists are calling on balloons to be banned altogether, like heroin and AK47s, because when they fall into the sea they are eaten by turtles.
And you know what? With things the way they are these days, they’ll probably get their wish.
So there will be no balloons at your children’s birthday party next year.
And no cake because that will make them obese.
And no entertainer because he will almost certainly be a paedophile.
And no games because it’s not fair on those that lose.
And no party bags because that’s elitist.
And when your son or daughter asks why their party is so dull, and held in a church, with a lot of prayers, and some uncooked organic vegetables, you can tell them it was because of an old lady’s horse. And a turtle.
Good luck with that.
The horse has already bolted
THE Jockey Club has decided to clamp down on excessive drinking at race meetings.
I can’t imagine that’ll work very well.
One's just one of the lads
PRINCE William has been soundly criticised this week for swanning off on a lads’ skiing holiday.
Many observers say he should have stayed at home and attended the opening of a flower show or something.
Well now, I’m sorry, but he has a full-time job as a helicopter pilot.
He is also a father to two young kids. Or is it three? I can’t keep track.
And he’s a senior royal so he has to spend most of his days off shaking hands with bores. Or going to church and pretending to sing.
If he’d spent his holiday in the lavatories snorting coke, or he’d picked a fight with a bouncer, then yes, it’s a story.
But he just had a nice time. And that sort of isn’t.
Scoop the poop or I'll dish the dirt
AN MP spoke in the Commons this week about a plague of dog poo baubles which have sprung up around the countryside.
She says dog owners place their pets’ mess in a brightly coloured plastic bag but then, instead of finding a bin, simply hang it from a bush or the nearest handy fence. I know just what she’s on about.
Every fence on my farm is now festooned with bags full of faeces and if I catch anyone doing this, I shall make them eat it. And the contents.
Or, and this is what I prefer, bag it and then hang the bag from a low branch over a road.
That way, a cyclist is going to get it smack in the face. And that would be hilarious.
Lecture - what lecture?
Hmm. I’m sorry to say this, Ange, but the truth is that not one single person in the audience was listening to a single thing you said.
It’s now expected the move will be rolled out across the country. Which seems pretty unfair on those who bought a diesel car precisely because that’s what they were told to do . . . by the Government.
Give him the Willows
RICHARD HAMMOND sent James May and me an apologetic text on Tuesday, saying he wouldn’t be at work owing to a commitment he couldn’t get out of.
It all sounded very sombre and important.
Here’s a tip though, Richard.
When you are skiving off work to go to Cheltenham races, don’t dress up like Badger from Wind In The Willows, because you’re going to get papped and the pictures are going to be published.
As indeed they were.
A load of old junc
NEW research has found that if you cycle to work in London you can expect to have a near miss every two weeks.
This, it’s said, is because there’s confusion about who has the right of way at junctions.
No there isn’t. It’s perfectly simple. The person in the car does.
IT IS JUST WHAT THEY DO
ALARMING news from Cyprus, I’m afraid.
Locals are setting up near-invisible “mist nets” on the vast British Army base and then using tape-recorded birdsong to lure hundreds of thousands of robins, thrushes and warblers into the trap.
Chefs then stick a pin into each of the birds’ heads before turning them into some kind of traditional stew.
Needless to say, this has sent bird enthusiasts into a right old lather.
TV’s Chris Packham, who I like a lot, says: “If this were an instance of human trafficking or drugs, the British authorities would stop it.”
That’s true, Chris. But you see, it isn’t, is it?
It’s just a bunch of Cypriots doing what they’ve done for hundreds of years.
And they wouldn’t be very happy if a battalion of squaddies from another country turned up and arrested them.
A CHAP who regularly called a phone-in show on a pirate radio station in Iraq to moan and joke about IS has been murdered.
I can’t condone that, of course. It’s barbaric.
But sometimes, when I listen to the people who call the Jeremy Vine show . . .