Peter Rhodes on burning logs, picking up litter and the curious tale of a pig

An online debate about Tony Blair's suggestion for a second Brexit referendum brought forth this gem: "While the message was okay, nonetheless after reading it, could someone please shoot the ****ing messenger."

ANOTHER flurry of messages follows up the issue of litter around Loch Lomond which I touched on recently. "The answer is education," declares one contributor. Really? And how many hours in the classroom does it take to convey the message: "Don't drop that."?

THE proposed change in rules allowing police drivers to chase villains, especially those on mopeds, without fear of prosecution is mayhem waiting to happen. It will be repealed the moment a police pursuit vehicle kills more innocent bystanders in a split-second than the moped gangs have killed in a year. Before unleashing more high-speed road chases, let's see what the latest drones can do. Is anyone working on a drone with a Taser to zap the ungodly on their mopeds? If not, why not?

THERE were times during the Chancellorship of Gordon Brown when I thought he had it in for me personally. His budgets seemed surgically targeted at me for earning a little more than the minimum wage, using a company car and having a fuel card, while he was bunging more money to the old and frail. Year after year, Brown took money out of my wage packet and gave it to my mother-in-law. Was this his revenge for one or two (okay, maybe more) difficult interviews? Anyway, the Tory government has now taken up the hounding of me. In the crusade against pollution, I am targeted for driving a diesel car, for having solid-fuel central heating and for keeping the baronial hall tepid with a couple of log-burning stoves. All may be banned in the name of cleaner air. Dare no-one suggest the problem could be solved if selfish people learned to breathe a little less?

WHEN a man in Ohio phoned police to report that a pig was following him home, the cops assumed the caller was drunk. Not so. He was sober and the animal was a domestic pig in need of company. I bet we were all reminded of the poem about the drunk who falls asleep in the gutter next to a pig. There are several versions but they all end with a lady, disgusted at the sight exclaiming: "You can tell a man who boozes by the company he chooses." / And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

I MENTIONED Virol a few days ago. It was a food supplement which vanished from the market some years back. A reader, after some research, points out that the ingredients of Virol sound remarkably like dog food. Well, it never did me any harm. Woof.

INTRIGUINGLY, a Google search for Virol will take you to an Amazon web page offering three varieties of malt extract and a weatherproof masonry sealer. Versatile, or what?