@RamsesNibblick I probably have if i look closely enough.
I had a racer bike, and I vaguely remember some pedals had little straps on them to stop your foot from sliding too far, but I never used them.
I see someone posting the inane "Man tries to open cabin door mid-flight" drivel again. He's tackled by passengers who have apparently never even questioned if this is at all possible, which it most assuredly is not.
It's a damning indictment, when on being asked a straight forward question, to which the answer would be quite easy if the facts of it were true and flattering, the Prime Minister chooses to deflect with pithy dismissal.
A bloody chunk of fat the size of my thumb in my steak and kidney pie. I knew they were sneaking bits in gradually, but they'll be calling them 'fat and kidney' pies before long. ๐คจ
WATCH AND LISTEN to the Home Secretary who came to silence you, not to save him.
The woman the Speaker had to drag into Parliament. The face of a state that failed Henry. Standing at the despatch box telling a grieving nation that YOUR grief is the dangerous thing.
Think about that. A boy was handcuffed as he died and the people they have decided to worry about are the ones who noticed.
They are turning the grieving into the guilty. The public into the problem. Your sorrow into a threat to be managed.
This is damage control wearing a Home Secretary's title.
So let me tell you what she didn't want to dwell on. What actually sits behind that footage.
Vickrum Digwa didn't snap. The prosecutor told the court he had a weapon obsession. Trained with weapons. Slept in a room full of them. Police found more than twenty weapons in the family home.
Today Digwa, his father and his brother appeared in court over those weapons. Between them, charges covering a flick knife, an extendable baton, knuckledusters, a machete, swords, an axe, an air rifle and a weighted chain. This wasn't one bad man. It was a household.
The blade he used to kill Henry? He carried it legally. A religious exemption. Even though Sikh organisations themselves say what he used wasn't a real Kirpan.
Then he met Henry. 18. Walking home from a night out. Under the limit. Alone. Unarmed. A boy.
He stabbed him five times. A fatal wound to the chest. Then stood over a dying teenager and filmed him. The judge called it callous disregard.
While he filmed, he built the cover story. The one he knew would work.
He told police it was Henry who attacked HIM. A racist attack. He pulled off his own turban to sell it. Claimed a swollen eye. Took Henry's phone, the phone that filmed the truth and proved every word a lie.
He reached for the one accusation this country is trained to believe on sight. Racism. And it worked instantly.
His brother called 999 claiming they'd been racially attacked by a white man. His mother took the murder weapon and walked away.
A whole family. Building a lie around a boy who was still breathing.
And he knew it was a lie. Days later, secretly recorded in a police van, speaking Punjabi to his brother, Digwa admitted it. Said without cameras he couldn't have claimed self-defence. Not panic. Calculation.
The police heard the magic word and handcuffed the victim. Henry told them he'd been stabbed. Told them nine times he couldn't breathe. They told him they didn't believe him.
His last words were please, brother, I can't breathe.
He died as the suspect in his own murder.
The killer serving life. The mother sentenced next month. The father and brother bailed today and the Attorney General now deciding whether 21 years was even enough.
That is what sits behind the clip you just watched her smooth over.
A boy was killed by a lie about racism. And the state's response is to warn YOU about your tone.
She didn't come to Parliament to answer for Henry.
She came to tell you to stop being angry about him.
Don't.
- @Banksycat
It's June the 3rd. I've put on my jumper and gilet. The heater in the office is on, and outside it looks and feels like an autumn morning. I may construct a small rudimentary fire in the wood burner to keep away the chill.
Minimum wage in the UK should be ยฃ19.65 an hour and here's the proof.
In 2005 minimum wage was ยฃ5.05 and a Freddo cost 10p. That meant one hour of work got you 50 Freddos.
Fast forward to 2026, minimum wage is ยฃ12.71 and a Freddo is 39p. Now one hour of work gets you about 32 of them.
That's roughly a 152% rise in pay... but a 290% rise in frog-shaped chocolate bars.
If wages had actually kept up with the price of Freddos, minimum wage would be closer to ยฃ19.65 an hour.
The economy's in bits and yes, I'm measuring it in chocolate frogs. But it says something. Because this isn't really about Freddo's, it's about the fact that you can work full time and still feel like you're going backwards, because everything around you is rising faster than your pay.
We're honestly done at this point and something needs to change.