Last night the two of us attended the annual convention of our local branch of the National Front. It was held in a private room behind the bar of a pub just around the corner.
The boy Tony was very impressed with the turn-out, and at one point he became all moist in the eyes, as nostalgia started to get the better of him. It's true - we've been attending these meetings for years and years, and throughout that time we've both made some wonderful friends.
Glen and his iron bar was present, and it was fine to hear him tell the crowded room how he would tackle the UK's immigration crisis, if just given the opportunity. Alas, people like him are always misunderstood, but I reckon he'd make a great Home Secretary.
Also there were Mick and Andy, two of our friends from the south coast, who enjoy nothing more than attacking people of a "certain colour", just for the fun of it. Tony laughed when Andy said that he's now been banned from every football ground in England, because of his antisocial behaviour.
Alas, Darren from north London couldn't make the meeting, but from his prison cell, he sent us all his best wishes via the internet, and says he hopes to be out in a few years time.
After the meeting we dined on stale sandwiches and drank the warmest lager money can buy, but we all agreed that the National Front is still a force to recognised!