Claiming expenses for MPs that do not exist

This is a Times Online podcast.

The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello, Buglers, and welcome to Bugle 74 for the week beginning Monday, the 18th of May, 2009, with me, Andy Zaltzmann here in the very heart of the universe, whopping in London and in New York City.

On top of the Earth's crust for once, it's Sergeant Showtime himself, John Oliver.

That sounds like a wrestling name, Andy.

Hello, Andy, and hello, buglers.

Hello.

Sergeant Showtime, that really does sound like a wrestling name.

What would the special move of Sergeant Showtime be?

I don't know, it would probably involve some lights coming on, I think.

Yeah.

Probably maybe blinding the opponent who would then fall over.

You wouldn't even have to touch him.

You wouldn't have to do much.

You'd probably have to wear a top hat, I think.

Yeah.

Started showtimes, I like to break into a sweater.

And I have a cane under your arm.

I moved house last weekend, Andy.

Go on the middle.

Yeah, that'd be great.

Can you send it in?

I'll put it in the post.

Send it registered delivery.

It's always tricky.

People nick stuff here.

In my new house, no concrete lines.

That is a shame.

But on the plus side, there are less hardcore gay sex shops around than where I used to live, which is going to be better when my mum and dad come to stay.

Usually, Andy, you absolutely want to live in a gay area because gay people are nice and they like nice things they will gentrify any area that they move to they don't like mess the problem is that they do like to window browse with their more adventurous sexual equipment and the last time my parents were i remember walking down the road with my mom and we took a slight wrong turn and ended up walking past some shop windows which had some what i can only describe as enormous dildos in them the kind of objects which could not possibly be used in love or to extract information

and it's going to be a lot easier a walk when I come to visit my new place well that's good to know

so what a historic edition this is John number 74 1974 of course the year that I was born and thus the bugle became a distant but achievable possibility and the week beginning Monday the 18th of May which means that it's exactly one year since last year and it is also the 800th anniversary of the death of Brendan of Pontefract

I don't know why I found that so funny but that word at that together, that is gold dandy.

Thanks, mate.

Well, he was the world's first known football commentator.

Was he?

Yep, but tragically for Brendan, John, he predated organised football by nearly 700 years, and so he lived a largely unfulfilled life, wandering from town to town in search of people kicking it around anything that even looked like a ball, or even of children just idly booting a dead cat to each other whilst they waited for their parents to die of plague.

Brendan even tagged along with Richard the Lionheart on one of his crusades to the Middle East, hoping to commentate on some big overseas games.

But there proved to be not very much football and quite a lot of religious fighting, so he remained a largely useless member of the Crusade despite his assiduous research on the career statistics of Richard's courtiers.

Little of Brendan's work remains today, just a couple of fragments of manuscripts in which monks transcribed his desperate efforts to commentate on a sport that did not yet exist.

This one, in fact, was recently discovered in a disused monastery in the West Midlands, stemming from when he saw two boys called Aston Vahl and Wesbrome near what is now modern-day Birmingham kicking an apple to each other whilst taking an elongated lunch break from fruit picking in their master's orchard.

So this is the commentary as transcribed.

I'm sorry if the English does sound a bit old.

Astenwahl be he on the ball now.

Hen he look he up, and see he wesbrom, left without a winger.

Astenwahl he sprayed a bull crossfield wise, offer his left peg of much culture.

Wesbrom now we have it, have it have he, in way, outway, shoulder be dropper, and shooter does he.

And yes, it's a goal!

Juan Ella, princely wants to strike, right unto corner topmost in the goal.

The young boy finished that in stal terrific.

Fourteen yar old now, of course, the veterane midfielder, so coming to the end of his natural lifespan.

That sounds just like your Italian accent.

Well that's because Italy emerged from early 13th century England John until it was unpopulated until people left.

Wow.

When I believe

Henry III became king.

Wow so that accent was through historical choice rather than a lack of ability to do any other.

It was all right National Youth Theatre boy.

That would carry a little bit more weight John when you've been in a film not playing a character called Dick Pants.

Fair point.

Anyway, the story goes that Wes Brough and Aston Vahl then chased the strange man away from their orchard before he got them into trouble with the local knights, but they became separated in the pursuit and each picked up an injury as they tired.

On the site where Wes Brougham felt his hamstring tweak, modern day club West Brom now play, and where Astonval twinged a groin is now the site of Villa Park, home of Aston Villa.

800 years ago today he died John.

And a section in the bin this week, as always, this week's section in the bin is a special Greek Philosophers on Golf section, a newly discovered text by Plato, in which the ancient Greek philosophy whiz gives tips on how to improve all aspects of your golf game, from driving to putting, from learning to play in high winds and rain, to theories of moral and political philosophy.

Top story this week, scandal, sleas, and British MPs.

Now, and the British politicians used used to be world leaders in terms of sleaze, pumping someone who wasn't their wife like a morally bankrupt traction engine, or being found dead hanging upside down naked with an orange in their mouth.

They used to be really good at it, but the UK has been rocked over the last fortnight by a series of expenses scandals, which have cost some MPs their jobs, many others their reputation.

Now, this story has not made headlines around the world, largely due to the relatively small amount involved, but Andy, it has lit up the UK press like a forest fire, hasn't it?

There has only been one story in town in Britain this week one unending interminable tedious story political expenses John as if the country didn't have enough to worry about what with massive recession war in Afghanistan and the fact that we don't have enough immigrants coming in anymore to do all our menial chores for us it turns out wait a second I can hardly bring myself to say this it turns out that the system by which our MPs claim expenses is flawed it's

hard to know where we go as a nation from here in the current climate.

But in a desperate effort to look cool, the Delhi Telegraph newspaper scooped this story, the story that the entire nation here have been waiting for with not even slightly bated breath, the expose that we've been completely off tenths about with the latest instalment of the ongoing expenses saga that has gripped this nation's attention like a dead worm grips a space shuttle because every day this week John the Daily Telegraph has been publishing leaked details of MPs and cabinet ministers' expense claims from all parties including the prime ministers revealing John that some of these MPs did play the system and made stupid cocky or arrogant claims for things they clearly shouldn't have claimed for in the current climate That others claim things they were legitimately entitled to under an admittedly flawed system, but might have thought about passing on in the current climate.

And also, and this is where it gets really heartbreaking, John, that some of them were so busy doing their jobs that they were elected for in the current climate that they made occasional minor mistakes filling in their expenses forms.

And when alerted to these by the authorities, they rectified these mistakes and paid back any outstanding money.

And that's the bit that really stings, John.

Yeah, I mean, that's what's six year throat.

That's where you just completely lose your faith in all politicians, Andy.

Oh, they're not heroes.

Thank Thank goodness for the Daily Telegraph, Andy, who have led the British public into battle like Queen Elizabeth I on a torpedo.

The most

controversial part of MP's expenses has been the second home allowance after it emerged that Tory MP Greg Barker made £320,000 on a flatly bought at the taxpayer's expense.

And to be fair, that's a pretty good return, Andy.

That's enough to make you want to be a career Tory MP.

And there is literally nothing else that makes me want to do that.

Other attention has been paid to Prime Minister Gordon Brown's £6,577 cleaning bill, which was paid to his brother.

Gordon Brown argued that they shared a cleaner and it was to reimburse him for costs.

But surely the bigger question is, how the fk is Gordon Brown getting his house so dirty?

Is he blowing off steam at home after a frustrating day at work, failing to achieve anything and being loathed by the electorate who did not elect him by just relaxing, smashing everything in his house and shitting up his own walls?

Maybe someone should buy him a stress doll instead.

It might save everyone a lot of money.

Yeah, I guess also the question is, why could he not just clean it himself, John?

What else has he got on apart from stumbling cack-handedly from one disaster to the next, like Ricky Hatton's face into a Filipino's fists?

Too soon, Andy.

Too soon.

But these shocking revelations, John, have shaken the nation to the core of its 10,000-year-old soul.

People have been just wandering bleary-eyed around the street, scratching their heads saying, What are we anymore?

Who am I?

Did I fight those two world wars for this?

Did St.

George conquer the Vikings and sink the Spanish Armada so our parliamentarians could play the margins of an extremely cack-brained system?

The key thing for politicians, Andy, is they've all been working on their excuses.

Immigration Minister Phil Willis has disputed any of the newspapers' allegations about him.

He said that he's seeking legal advice over suggestions that he claimed for nappies and women's clothing.

But the real question is, does he have the titanium balls to stand up and claim that they were legitimate personal business expenses?

I stand before you and I say I cannot get any real work done unless I am dressed like a housewife and wearing a nappy.

It is in the taxpayers' interest that they encourage my work rate.

Some people work better in a double-breasted suit.

For me, it's a floral pattern summer dress and a pampers disposable.

Well, that wouldn't go down well, John.

Not in this environment obsessed age.

People were wanting to use recyclables at least.

Some of the criticism has undeniably been hysterical.

Some people were angry about claims for bath plugs.

Come on.

Are we not going to buy them some bath plugs, Andy?

Do we not want our elected representatives to have baths?

Do we not want them to be clean?

Because if not, we're going to have some of the smelliest MPs in Europe.

A quick rinse in the sink is simply not going to do it.

Well, it worked for Stanley Baldwin.

But among the lurid revelations, there have been some admittedly spectacular claims, John.

Fiddling mortgage claims, sidestepping bits of tax, cleaning a moat.

That was one of the most spectacular ones.

That is phenomenal.

Well,

I guess you have to protect yourself.

Some people want a bodyguard, other people want a moat.

And if you have a moat, you must maintain it.

This was Tory MP Douglas Hogg, and the big question here is, how come he's got a moat?

Does this man live in a castle?

In which case, are we going to be invoiced for a suit of armour polishing soon?

Or, and this would be even better, does he just live in a normal house, but a house that he's built an entire moat around?

Maybe a drawbridge coming down from his garage door.

If so, I am personally happy to pay for that moat cleaning, because anyone who wants a moat that badly deserves one.

The sad truth, John, is that he lives in a 14th floor apartment.

Oliver Lettwin claimed for fixing pipes under a tennis court.

John Reed for a spangly toilet seat.

You name it, John, they've claimed for it.

Or if they haven't claimed for it, it was on a receipt alongside items that were claimed, so you can pretend that they claim for it.

Or by this stage, you can actually just make up things they claim for just to keep yourself feeling sanctimonious enough to still give a flying shit about it.

In fact, if you like, you can even make up politicians as well and claim that they claim for stuff they shouldn't have claimed for.

So

the bugle can now exclusively reveal that the Conservative Hedgerows and Small Ponds spokesman Greville Yard Binkling claimed £12.99 monthly roosting fees for keeping a cockerel in his London home to wake him up in the morning so he wasn't late for Parliament.

Liberal Democrat New Dance Move Secretary Fallopiana Trunchon claimed £45,000 over three years to have a professional football manager storm into her office once a week, throw some teacups around and shout in her face to work harder and track back.

She said she needed the motivation given her party's inadequate representation in the Commons.

And Labour frontbench cabinet minister, known only as Big Jake, the Secretary of State for Shouting, wanted to be reimbursed for the costs of having his desk fitted with foam padding and slow-closed drawers to stop himself slamming his cock in it.

Is that right?

If it helps him do his job and run the country better, shouldn't we, the taxpayers, be pleased to help out?

Watch our listenership go up, Andy.

We are now a vital check and balance on fictitious politicians.

The Justice Minister, who has also just resigned, Mr.

Malik, says he stuck a million percent by the rules and said some of the papers claims were a fabrication.

Wow, that's pretty impressive, Andy, a million percent.

That is a lot of unnecessary sticking to the rules.

999, 900% too much, in fact.

He really should have spent that time doing his job.

In fact, that's probably a resigning issue in and of itself.

So now the process of repaying the expenses is underway.

Photo opportunities with MPs holding up giant checks like they're on a telethon.

I think instead they should be photographed going to pawn shops with their children's bikes, with their children in tears saying, sorry, son, the taxpayer just doesn't want you to have this.

The awkward part of this story is that none of this is actually against the rules.

So that's a lot of anger with nowhere to go.

Unless pitchfork wielding crowds decide just to go to town on a rule book, set fire to it and dance around watching it burn.

They're going to have to sake their lust from revenge.

It's got to go somewhere.

In fact, the anger in England is huge at at the moment.

And how angry are you?

Well, I'm quite angry, John, but I'm most angry with the media who simply won't shut up about it.

The most tedious thing about this has been seeing a profession, namely journalism, that is, frankly, quite famous for being undisputed kings of expenses claims, who picked up this story and pulped every last drop out of it like a cheap tomato.

But I guess to be fair to the Telegraph, at least they have done this at a time when their chairman is no longer Conrad Black, who in his spare time didn't so much indulge in rogue expenses claims as a hundred million dollar fraud.

So I guess it would have come across as a tad hypocritical had he still been in charge.

But it's been awful seeing the sight of the main political parties falling over each other in their desperate bid to be seen to be the ones who feel most sorry about it.

I would say there hasn't been this much self-flagellation in Britain since the 19th century circus impresario hopped in the hoopsticks, bumped his head on a trapeze artist, thought he'd turned into a lion and tried to train himself to play the mandolin.

So where do we go from here, Andy?

Well, maybe the British taxpayer can start invoicing MPs for expenses for how angry they've gotten by this story.

I imagine a lot of people are going to need.

Sorry, John, did you say gotten?

I think I did say gotten.

Doctor, you need to come home.

You really need to come home soon, or it could be incurable.

Well, that really got to you, didn't it?

Well, John, I've managed to overlook your problem with apostrophes for many years, but gotten that's that's not allowed.

My problem with apostrophes was not defined by national boundaries.

Just ranking competence.

It's important for transparency in this new era of honesty, Andy.

So, in the interest of full disclosure, I feel I should come clean about the expenses I plan to put in for the bugle.

Now, I think it's important for me to live ostentatiously to give off an image of power, and that therefore I'm someone worth listening to in this podcast.

So, I looked at the Queen, Andy, and I saw that she has swans in a lake in her garden.

Now, I don't have a lake or a garden, but I do have a bathtub.

So, I bought 25 swans and I spray-painted them gold and put them in the bath.

That wasn't cheap, and I have to spray them every day to keep them looking gold.

They don't like that, Andy, and they can fight back swans.

So I need to hire private security.

Blackwater have the best safety record at some cost, so that isn't cheap either.

I just wanted you to know what was coming in.

Right, okay, because I actually have to say that I have claimed already over the course of the bugle for quite a lot of things.

Well, I've claimed for 74 different tailored clown suits made by top London designers, one for each episode of the Bugle so far.

I wear it.

That seems fair.

Well, I wear it for both writing and recording it, because if you want me to be funny, John, I've got to feel funny.

And for that, I've got to look funny.

I've got no quarrel with that.

I've also got a bodyguard.

Well, I couldn't do the bugle if I'd been assassinated.

So that seems...

That's technically true.

That seems reasonable.

100 mice and 40 guinea pigs for the laboratory testing of the audio cryptic crosswords.

and plus a portable incinerator for those that didn't like it.

I mean, financially, I don't have a problem with that.

Morally, I just think that's absolutely reprehensible.

Those poor animals, aren't they?

Also, I claim for all the nappies, clothes, toys, and accessories incurred thus far in the life of my son.

As I talked about his birth on the Bugle John, so therefore he's a legitimate business expense.

Also, I do charge my standard hourly rate for childcare whenever I have to look after him.

That's £499 an hour plus VAT.

If he wants the best parenting, he's going to have to pay for it.

Because I don't care whose sonny is.

Contacts count for nothing in Zaltzland.

Pope news now, and the Pope has been poping around the Middle East to see if it was possible to antagonize any more of the most religiously divided place on earth and you know what he didn't do badly at it that's a good effort from the big man he'd already insulted Islam a few years ago so that was a festering subtext nicely and of course there was that whole being in the Nazi youth gaffe which understandably put Israel a bit on edge One person complained that the Pope's visit had caused chaos on the West Bank.

Oh, I'm sorry.

It must have completely completely shattered the normally peaceful days they have there.

Birds singing, crickets chirping, cars exploding.

Oh, the West Bank in the spring.

He said some characteristically entertaining things, John, on this trip.

He said, in the Holy Land, there is room for everyone.

To which a smart-ass Palestinian presumably replied, righty hope, Pope Benedict, but in that case, could you please explain why there's a massive concrete wall in front of my face?

And also, he said that the resurrection, John, reassures us that God can make all things new, that history need not be repeated, that memories can be healed, that the bitter fruits of recrimination and hostility can be overcome.

Which are all fair points, I guess.

But I would also add that the around about 1,975 years since the resurrection do reassure us that God probably won't be asked to make all things new, that history almost certainly will be repeated over and over like a cheap sitcom on a low-budget cable channel.

That a lot of people really don't want their memories to be healed.

In fact, they keep picking at the scabs just to make sure.

And that the bitter fruits of of recrimination and hostility have made a surprisingly popular political wine for generations of leaders.

I guess there's just two sides to every coin.

Not every resident was against the Pope's visit, even though a lot of shops were shut down for security reasons.

In fact, the owner of a cafe close to the Western Wall said, a day's trade may be a price worth paying if the Pope can help bring peace.

Wow, one day's lost earnings is worth it, Andy.

Two days may be in a push.

A week's takings to bring peace to the most troubled region on earth?

No way, you just ask too much.

So he had quite a busy week, John.

He visited most of the holiest sites from the life of Jesus, such as the place where Jesus was supposedly baptised.

Pretty holy.

The water park where he learnt to swim.

Very holy.

Well, with Hines, it was a bit of a waste of time, John.

I just cannot imagine a situation in which he would choose to swim when you could quite easily walk.

You never know, Andy.

If he fell into a canal, he might, you know, forget how to walk on the water and so he needs to swim his way out of it.

Or maybe he just wanted to do competitive swimming.

In all good conscience, he couldn't compete with his performance enhancing birth defects.

That's an interesting way of describing Son of the Almighty Lord.

Listen, Addie, I might have insulted him.

You killed him.

Personally, John.

Also, the Pope visited the bike sheds where the only known graffiti by Jesus remains.

Rather cryptic, Jesus was here question mark.

Also, the funeral parlour where he and Lazarus set up, arguably his best ever trick.

And the all-you-can-eat Mexican buffet and salad bar where the last supper probably took place.

I'm stuffed, guys.

I couldn't even look at another chimichanga, let alone eat one.

Don't worry, Big Jay, you won't have to.

All right, Judas, put a cork in it.

You've kind of given yourself away a bit there, mate.

Netanyahu urged the Pope to condemn Iranian threats to Israel, saying, make your voice loud.

And

popes are generally very quietly spoken people, Andy.

Might be it.

Volume may be a problem.

I think that's because God has very sensitive ears.

He's a very quiet Pope, and the last Pope I remember was very quiet as well.

I don't know when the last really loud Pope was.

Maybe Pope Pius.

I know he walked around with a loudhailer, screaming at people.

Pope also gave a very revealing interview with a Middle East teen magazine, Milk and Honeys.

Oh, oh.

Let's all just take a moment together to think about what you did there, Andy.

And apparently his favourite band is the Choir of St.

Peter's in Rome.

His favourite song, he wrote Any Good Mass.

His favourite food, he wrote biscuits or human flesh.

And his favourite Messiah, Jesus.

So what has Pope Ben achieved on this visit, apart from, as you say, desperately trying not to make too much of the old hit the youth chestnuts?

Well, he has, I guess, urged all sides to settle their differences.

And I suppose this is a good idea, John, and it does raise the question: why has no one thought of that before?

You know, it just seems kind of simple, settling the differences.

When you say it quietly, even in a slightly sinister German accent, it really brings it home, isn't it?

Settle your differences.

So, Catholic Church has face for making you talk.

Hugo feature section now, gaze.

That's right.

Dance it off, Andy.

Dance it off.

Now, you may remember the US military policy of don't ask, don't tell.

It was the profoundly flawed piece of legislation inherited from the Clinton administration.

And we inherited so much from that administration, Andy, including a deep sense of shame, a burning sensation whenever we urinate,

and a complete inability to look at the Oval Office without thinking about his penis.

And that is true.

That is true, Andy.

When I was at the White House, you just find yourself thinking about it.

You can't help it.

You think about Lincoln's hat, FDR's wheelchair, and Clinton's penis.

Not in that order.

Do you ever think about Woodrow Wilson's Nadgers as well?

Because I've heard he was a bit of a scratcher when he was deep in thought.

The truth is, Andy, that nowadays the don't ask, don't tell policy works about as well for the military as it did for the Clintons' marriage.

For eight years, Bush kept the policy, but now, you know, America's changed.

Surely we're not going to have that ludicrous system anymore.

Obama himself has said, I've stated repeatedly that don't ask, don't tell doesn't make sense.

Why would we want able men and women who are willing to sacrifice on our behalf?

Why would we tell them no?

Great point.

America is going to have the biggest, best, gayest military in the world.

Well, second gayest.

You can't beat the Finnish Navy.

And Obama's pledge made sense.

given that the policy had gone from offensive to downright dangerous when it emerged that the military had dismissed 54 Arabic translators due to their sexual preference, which, considering that we desperately need Arabic translators to decipher our enemies' conversations,

was a decision that really separated the casual homophobes from the truly committed.

But Obama had shown absolutely no interest in doing something morally right that he promised, but was politically unhelpful.

And it is difficult, Andy.

It's like putting up those shelves at home.

You want to do it.

You need to do it.

You know it's for the best, but you just can't be asked.

Then, luckily, a West Point graduate, an Iraq vet called Dan Choi, choi publicly said that he was gay on american tv and was promptly fired by the military prompting obama to do absolutely all about it by the way interesting side note here andy saying you're gay under the current military code is a homosexual act punishable with a dishonourable discharge however committing an actual homosexual act does not constitute a homosexual act you could you can be physically engaging in sex in front of people but for f' sake don't talk about it That does seem a bit of a loophole.

As Commander-in-Chief, Obama clearly has the power to prevent choice discharge and on the campaign trail he seemed pretty clear on this issue.

He said, why would we spend money kicking out Arab-speaking linguists that we need right now?

And clearly that was a question that he posed that he must have found some answer to due to the f all that he is doing.

Because the White House confirmed that President Obama will not intervene in current cases against men and women who admit they're gay.

And I've got to say, I much preferred this president before he became president, Andy.

He'd have made a great president then, and much better than the president he's making now.

The backlash begins.

It should be.

He's acting like an arsehole.

I should add as well, John, that it's a very appropriate time to be doing this story because Sunday will, according to no less a source than the internet, be the 17th anniversary of the World Health Organization taking homosexuality off its list of mental illnesses.

17th anniversary.

That's 1992, John.

Not 1892.

And clearly, this was a very influential move because just two years later, in 1994, the UK Department of Health also took homosexuality off its list of mental illnesses.

Competition time.

What?

Where are we competition time, Andy?

It's a very important competition this, John.

Are you actually going to follow through on this competition or just leave it hanging for months?

Because 24th of May, 1989, 20 years ago this coming Sunday,

in the village of Fordcombe near Tunbridge Wells, Kent in England, a puppy is born.

Oh.

A small, brindly-coloured Labrador puppy.

A puppy that would go on to become known as Emerils Altsman.

Yes.

My family dog.

She would have been 20 this Sunday, John, if she hadn't been cruelly snatched away from us by the black-fanged angel of doggy death at the tender age of 12 years, 17 years old.

I mean, she'd never have been 20 this Sunday.

I can't believe she's gone.

She'd have just died at a different time.

I can't believe she's gone.

We don't know that.

You might guess it.

You don't know it.

It'd be a pretty f ⁇ ing good guess, though.

Anyway, to try and bring some happiness to this sad historic anniversary, I'm giving away two tickets to my stand-up show at the Soho Theatre in London to Glamour School.

I cannot believe this is happening.

On the 29th and 30th of May.

Oh, no, Andy, do not do this.

When did this become a platform?

But are you going to start selling your jewellery line now like Joan Rivers?

Two tickets will go to the person who most excessively describes in no more than 100 words the contribution my ex-dog Emerald made to the progress of human civilization.

Please mark your entries.

Dead dog exaggeration competition.

It will be judged by Tom the producer.

Please say whether you want to bulk out the empty crowd on the 29th or the 30th.

And I'm not paying travel.

I might say hello afterwards, but that's it.

Tickets are still available for both nights.

Some of them are very available.

In the interest of balance, Andy, I am also going to be on a kind of mini stand-up tour.

Not next week, but the week after that.

I'll be going all over the place.

And, you know, whilst there aren't any free tickets available, I'm also think about coming out with a new line of watches.

Are they going to be quality watches?

Absolutely not.

Sergeant Showtime.

Sergeant Showtime's timepieces.

Sergeant Showtime's wrist hats.

That's what I'm going to call them.

Your emails now and thank you to several of you who have alerted us to perhaps the greatest news story of the year, involving Bugle favourite Hugo Chavez.

And this one came in from Paul Barrett, exiled scouser from Oxford in the UK, who writes, Dear Andy, and that cop-ite off the daily show.

There's a little footballing insult.

It's not an insult.

Don't see it as an insult at all.

Oh, we just assumed it was an insult.

No, it's not.

We reclaimed the term cop-ite.

We can say it about ourselves.

You can't say it about us, though.

Anyway, I don't know if you're aware of this, but Hugo Chavez, source of so much comedy, Aztec Gold, and perennial favourite of the bugle, has named a state-produced, low-cost mobile phone.

In his wisdom, he has called it the Virgaterio, which is a made-up word but seems loosely to translate as wonderful penis.

Still it again!

Soon, many Venezuelans will be able to invite people to contact them on their wonderful penis.

They'll be able to speak into their wonderful penises, and their friends, relatives, business partners, and stalkies will be able to hear them on their own $15 wonderful penis.

Above and beyond all of this, continues Paul, is the fact that in order to promote this technological leap of faith, he used a section on his TV programme to promote it, like a kind of politically charged Victor Kayam.

But hold on, just read that back.

His TV show.

Can you imagine the joys of that?

It's supposed to be absolutely incredible.

I believe that he technically has guests, but he just talks over people.

The Venezuelan Jonathan Ross.

He's always coming up with new fresh ideas.

It's like early Velvet Underground.

And this email came in from Tim in Cincinnati.

He writes, John and Andy, this Thursday going out for a pizza, I saw a car parked at the restaurant with a Rudy Giuliani 2012 bumper sticker.

Let it begin now.

Get your money flooding in.

Is that real?

I don't know.

I hope so.

Surely he's not going to put himself through it again.

Very briefly.

Jimmy Downey writes: To update, as of May the 8th, 2009, Giuliani is still taking contributions on his website to become nominated as US President in 2008.

And his website still has the slogan, Thank you for your continued support.

He won't give up.

You've got to admire that kind of tenacity in a politician, John.

Now, we have an email just for you here as well, Andy, just for Andy's Altsman from Florence Nightingale.

All right.

This is from nurse heavyflow at yahoo.com.

She's emailing from the grave Andy or she never died and this is her email to you.

It says dear son of a bitch

for all your bloody talk about how you have the hots for me, you're certainly good at forgetting my birthday.

Ouch Andy.

You slipped up here.

I wonder if you do the same to your lovely wife.

Bracketts, how is she?

Send the doll my love.

Classy move from Florence there.

She said, I would have you know I was considering letting you fly your colours over my battlefield, but after good God

But after showing what a rude pompous and ungrateful twit you are I will now have my way with several members of parliament a golden retriever and the Vienna boys choir What a lady Enclosed please find a photo of what could have been yours drop dead you bastard Florence Nightingale Well, Andy on the subject of Florence Nightingale and brace yourself for this we had an incredible email from Chay Hawks who said, Hello, sirs, you've probably been sent this by dozens of listeners.

No, Chay, just you, and may have already used it.

No, we haven't, but by next week, that will be the case.

And he says, This is a link to a real audio recording of the delectable Miss Nightingale.

Exactly.

So, Andy, are you ready to hear Flo's real voice?

Let me just strap myself down.

Okay, Tom, cut it up one time.

A strong nightingale?

Oh, yeah.

Talk to me, baby.

Oh!

Oh, Flow!

You know how to flow.

What are you talking about?

I can't make yourself clear.

Oh, that's what I like.

Hands off.

She's mine.

So what do you think, Addie?

What do you think?

Yeah.

Can we move on?

There's no words.

There's no words, is there?

There's only feelings.

This brings back so many memories.

Only

and one final email.

This comes from Lucien Deskai of no stated abode, who writes, according to Wikipedia, viruses reproduce by separating into multiple clones.

So it appears that they have accepted Andy's advice to go f themselves.

I'm glad I'm so influential in the virus community.

So thanks for your splendid selection of emails this week.

Some of the best of the rest will be rounded up in this week's Bugle blog, which I'll write over the weekend,

probably.

Let's be honest, possibly.

Also, some excellent contributions to Willie Shapes countries and buildings and

this has captured the imagination Andy in kind of hottie from history levels.

You know, there's illusions that this is, you know, a verbose, intelligent podcast.

I think they went a long time ago.

You're right, that's bullshit.

Went after the first press release went out.

Bugle Sport now, and while following last week's sport section, I can report now that last weekend's rugby accurately mirrored the savage brutalities of human history.

Good-nil, evil one.

Well, Good Nil, Evil 17, in fact, was the final score.

The mighty Harlequins were robbed.

Did Good not even put a single point on the board?

Good did not, John, but Good was playing an injured fly half who couldn't kick.

Yeah, but not even some.

If only we'd scored 18 points more, John.

Or if London Irish had scored 18 points fewer, which would have been some achievement upon such slender, slender threads.

Well, you should learn the lessons from history, Andy.

That was the answer there.

More importantly, dead monarchs ruining football news now, and King Olaf V of Norway, it seems, is not content with having died in 1991.

Now he wants to inconvenience a minor non-league English football team as well.

Cromer Town from the adequate Norfolk seaside resort of Cromer could be turfed out of their grounds.

You're calling out Cromer like Derby now, are you, Andy?

You're like a geographical Jay-Z.

You've got beefs all over the British Isles.

Someone actually got an email complaining about my calling out, as you so Americanly say, of Derby.

But to be honest, most towns that I call out are largely because I died on my ot at a gig there.

Yeah.

Whereas Cromer, I call out because I once had to supervise a coachload of German children there at a summer school.

So adequate.

I stand by that.

Anyway, Cromer Town could be turfed out of their ground in the year 2012 because of Olaf V's rather selfish decision in 1991 to pop his royal clogs.

Because it transpires that Cabell Park, one of the great stadiums on the North Norfolk coast, was donated to the town of Cromer in the will of Evelyn Bond Cabell when she herself pegged out of existence in 1922 as a big thank you to the townspeople for dying so willingly in World War I.

But there was a cash, John.

It wasn't a gift, it was a lease.

And in what must be the oddest subclause in Last Will and Testament football ground leasing history, that lease extended only until 21 years after the death of Queen Victoria's last surviving great-grandchild.

That is an odd thing to put in your will, John.

I'm going to give a football club a ground until Queen Victoria's last great-grandchild dies.

You say that he has ensured that he's not forgotten.

Look at it that way.

Not by the fountains of Chromer Town.

No.

It's almost like a prank setting up a punchline that doesn't happen for another 90 years.

It's like telling people if they want your inheritance to spend a night in a haunted house.

No, he's just been a bit more imaginative about it the lad.

So just time for the bugle forecast now and the forecast this week John is will my two shows at the Soho Theatre in London's West End on Friday the 29th and Saturday the 30th of May tickets available from the Soho Theatre.

Will they sell out?

I'm going to give you my answer and tell you why Andy.

Right.

I'm going to say yes.

Right.

The reason why is because I love losing bets.

What do you think, Andy?

Well, don't let your heart rule your head here.

No, well, my heart really wants there to be a lot of empty seats because that's what I'm used to.

Okay, my head says that I'm going to be pleasantly surprised.

Really?

Okay, well, we'll see, Andy.

Right, that's it for the bugle this week.

Look after yourselves, buglers.

You never know what's around the corner.

Bye-bye.

Have a lovely week.

Goodbye.

This is a Times Online podcast.

For more podcasts, go to timesonline.co.uk forward slash podcasts.

Hi, Buglers, it's producer Chris here.

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Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts right now.