Good Times, Bad Times

It's such a shame to see the Times has sunk to the level of the tabloids. To read their reports of my case, you'd never believe that there hadn't been an actual trial. There hasn't and my top ace super legal team are going to take them to the cleaners for being part of the malicious campaign of hate against me.

The court cases don't count. Why oh why can't they get that into their thick heads? It's simple really, I never went to the first trial, although I dithered outside the courtroom, I just didn't go in. I guess I just knew and could smell the justice pervert wombats.

They went ahead without me so it doesn't count. The law says it does, but I say it doesn't and that's all that matters. End of.

Then there was the other case after I gracefully turned my self in by allowing myself to be dragged kicking and screaming out of an internet cafe in Whitechapel.

That doesn't count either. none of them count unless I say so. you would think that the precious judges of Britain would grasp this simple concept, but the laws were not designed for a case as complex as mine, a case of real importance for everyone in Britain, if not the world.

Quite simply, there isn't a judge in the land who has the intelligence to understand the issues in my case, so there can't be a trial. That merry rag of tittle tattle only have donkeys writing for them - not one can write with the gift, craft and, dare I say it, love, that I share with my blog readers.

The Times has decided to act with criminal libel against me and harrass and stalk me with their vicious lies. There day will come. Very soon. My top ace and super legal team will eat them for breakfast and Murdoch and his meercat minions will rue the day they ever tried to smear and besmirch my spotless reputation in their chip wrapper rag.