So Alan Milburn has popped up again to remind us all what a complete, utter, first-rate, 24-carat arse he is. After a brief stint as the Worst Health Secretary Since The Dawn of Time, he resigned to spend more time shovelling money into his bank account, by, among other things, selling fizzy drinks to fat chavs.
But now he’s reappeared as the chair of something called the Panel on Fair Access to the Professions, and judging by Mr Milburn’s post-ministerial career, he’s certainly been able to pursue at least one profession very successfully, namely prostitution. His quango is a gang of the usual left-leaning ex-grammar school worthies whose job it was to ponder at our expense why social mobility is now at its worst level since the Labour Party abolished grammar schools.
So far as I can see, they haven’t treated us to their views on the causes of this supposed national blight, which means none of them has set foot inside a typical British comprehensive school or taken one of today’s really hard, not-at-all-dumbed-down A level papers.
Now excuse me, but not enough social mobility? Well, not from where I’m standing, mate - there’s far too much of it.
Take this example. The other day, my registrar - one who aspires to join the greatest profession of all, where he will bestride the earth saving lives like a colossus and who hopes one day to command the instant respect and deference that society affords to the great practitioners of the surgeon’s art - actually used the word “serviette”.
Can you arsing well believe it? He said “lounge” a couple of times, too.
And it’s not just him, they’re everywhere. I saw one leaving the doctor’s mess wearing a football shirt! One of the ENT registrars is actually called Kevin. Glottal stops are filling the air on ward rounds all over the country. Get this: medical schools are even admitting students who are actually Northern.
Memo to Alan: The professions are filling up with oiks, and it’s all your fault.
Tags: Alan Milburn, Humour, Recruitment
