For those of you not in the UK, a spanner is a slang term for somebody of limited intelligence or insight.

Spanner one. Over the weekend I needed to see my friend Arsenal Kev, and I know that he’s often to be found at a specific time in one of the town’s watering holes. I moseyed on in, and there he wasn’t. Somebody who was there, however, was somebody else I know. Not a friend, not a mate, but an acquaintance. I’m not mad about him to be honest, but as long as we steer the conversation away from capital punishment (he’s a hang ‘em and flog ‘em brigadier) and the role of women in the world (he’s a bit of a misogynist), we can sort of coexist.

Anyhow, I ambled up to the bar to speak to the barmaid. Now her I do like. She’s intelligent, clever, funny, witty, and has a great attitude. She may only be 20 but she won’t take crap from anybody. Nor will she suffer fools gladly, so why she speaks to me is anyone’s guess.

‘Anastasia, has Arsenal Kev been in?’

‘No. That’s unusual for him.’

At this point my acquaintance chipped in.

‘Why did you call her Anastasia?’

While I did a goldfish impersonation, Anastasia got on the case.

‘Oh, he just does it for a joke.’

I then did what the acting profession refers to as ‘corpsing’, which is when you laugh too hard to speak.

Incidentally, her middle name is Celdia, and she looks as exotic as her names suggest.

Spanner two. The Court calls Ms Jane Park, who is of Scottish extraction. Ms Park stands accused of being a spanner because she’s threatening to sue Camelot, the company charged with levying a tax on stupidity, because she won £1m when she was 17. Apparently this hasn’t made her life 10 times better, but 10 times worse.

She has become bored with pointless consumption, and feels it fails to offer any real long term happiness. To make things worse, people ‘…don’t understand the extent of my stress….What is my purpose in life?’

Ms Spanner, may I make a suggestion? Stop flooding Instagram with selfies of your cleavage, get off your doubtless perfect arse, and actually do something that gives your life meaning instead of just playing the Poor Little Rich Girl card. If the cash is making life intolerable, you might want to think about giving some away to worthy causes. Give it all away, even, and go back to the eight quid an hour job you gave up when you won.

Some of my readers may cynically feel, as I do, that the timing of all this whining is probably not unconnected to the drink drive charges she’s facing.

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