Whatever drugs Our Glorious Leader Sandy Beach is on, I've got to get me some. Why? Well if you read his column in this week's Gazunder, the only possible conclusion you could come to is that he's sprinkling too many mandies on his Special K these days.
Nine tenths of the wordage is about Europe, the state of the pound, Gordon Brown and the Lib Dems. Quite what any of that has to do with keeping the public conveniences open or the 30% hole in Margate's retail sector is beyond me. But ah, at the very end we get two sentences which may be of relevance: 'We are not cutting our front line services and will see a tourism program (sic) to match that of last year. We also listen to you and are not closing, as speculated, a single toilet.'
After all that high fallutin' talk of sterling, forex, Standard and Poor's, and deficits, the last sentence would almost certainly qualify for the Bathos of the Year Award. But Sandy in his euphoric state seems to have forgotten the Great Khazi Stink of 2009, when our beloved council didn't close a single toilet, it closed loads of them. As for not cutting front line services, it's been a few years since that sweepy-uppy man used to tour the grimy back streets here on the East Cliff every week. Now he only comes if you ring the council on your mobile and complain that you can't open the door to get out of your car because the gutter's knee deep in empty Stella cans.
Now, of course I'm not seriously suggesting that the Tory leader of Thanet Council is a drug addict. No, that could get me into all kinds of trouble. But he is a man of a certain age, and I do worry about his memory. Even at the ripe old age of 29, I sometimes find my memory ain't what it used to be.
Even at the ripe old age of 29, I sometimes find my memory ain't what it used to be. But it's not only Sandy's long term memory that's shot. His short term memory's going too! A tourism 'program' to match that of last year? Er, turn to page 3 and you'll find only a few days ago he slashed every Visitor Information Centre bar Margate's (natch). Unless by 'program' he means the £££s of ££££s poured into Margate events, which seem to grow each year like dry rot on a dilapidated council asset.
With a memory like that, isn't it time the poor old fella handed in his cards?