SORRY to continue last week’s rant about MPs’ expenses (the bee in the bonnet is madder than ever) but they just don’t get it do they?

It was somewhat serendipitous (or risky, depending on how you look at it) to unwittingly pen words wondering what had happened about the expenses scandal a couple of days before the parliamentary gasket blew again, but if it’s possible I’m even more disgusted with our scheming, conniving, bleating elected representatives than before.

They whinge about having to cough up retrospectively for their cleaners and gardeners – after all, the fees office had previously said it was fine, so it’s unfair to have to pay back any money, they wail.

Then like kids in the playground they turn their ire on to fellow MPs who initially at least, were not being charged retrospectively for erroneously-made mortgage interest payments on “flipped” second homes.

And they claim that many of the demands made by expenses review guru Sir Thomas Legg are wrong and based on missing paperwork from the Commons fees office.

Don’t they see just how pathetic and greedy they look? Don’t they see that voters couldn’t give a stuff about their cleaning and gardening bills or how much they might “lose” (though how you can lose something you’ve gained as an advantage I don’t know) in mortgage interest payments. Have they any idea just how petulant and greedy they sound? Presumably they don’t – MPs have often been accused of being out of touch with reality and this just confirms it by the lorry load.

I picked up a definition of “government” on the internet the other day and it goes something like this – a money-driven conspiracy of liars, cheaters and con artists claiming to control all morality. They assume that they know everything, including the difference between right and wrong, but don’t realise how hypocritical they truly are. They will create their own destruction while their victims (us) sit by and watch them fall.

And just in case you think I’m grinding my axe against this government in particular I’m not. Let’s be apolitical about this. For some blogging wag on the ’net has identified “politics” as a system of cheating, lying and scandal that comes from the phrase poly, meaning many, and ticks, meaning blood-sucking parasites.

Oh, how true. So when politicians come to my doorstep seeking my vote next year I will take great delight in telling them to get stuffed. After all, they’ve spent years stuffing us.

A CLIP from John and Pauline’s latest telly show last week showed that the north-south divide is alive and well – at least among out-of-touch toffs strangulating their vowels Dahn Saarrth.

There was Prescott doing his own peculiar version of strangulating the English language, meeting up in some private posh London club with art critic Brian Sewell who is so toff-y that in his 76 years he confessed to never having met a “Brahmay.” Looking down his landing strip of a nose he professed that anyone from Birmingham (it being Aap Noorrth in his eyes) must be completely incomprehensible to anyone other than his immediate neighbours.

And that wasn’t all. Laying his insults with a gold-plated trowel, he mused: “How do northerners understand the coherence between the written and spoken word?” What an ignorant, arrogant snob. It’s people like him that give southerners a bad name.

SO it’s goodbye to mutton dressed as lamb seeking toy boys and hello to cougar women. These dubious specimens of womanhood are defined as singles of a certain age who strut their stuff in high street teen gear, are slaves to Botox and hair colourants, and are on the prowl for younger men with which to have some athletic boudoir fun.

They’re happy to flaunt their chests housed in push-up, pull-you-in bras on top, or their orange peel thighs below encased as they are in sheer nearly-blacks or worse, daubed in fake tan.

They’re super-predatory and home in on younger men that take their fancy, whether married or not, like great white sharks circling round a hapless seal.

Apparently, any woman who finds herself on her own in her middle years can improve her lot by taking on cougar-like qualities to give a bit of zip to her life. God, how tacky. Any bloke who falls for such a fur-coat-and-no-knickers approach obviously has his brains in a place other than his head.