IF I were President then I could pretend to know all the answers to all of the world's problems.
And if I ever got stuck for an answer I am sure something would pop into my head.
Now there are those who give it large and those who simply go too far. If they are not on our television screens trying to make up as many excuses as possible for making a mess of things then they are in our neighbourhoods.
And I'm not talking about the politicians.
The problem is most of us are just too polite to say anything and let the fibbers get away with it.
But even I would be ashamed of how certain people act at gatherings to mourn a death.
Five minutes of peace and quiet is all I ask. No mobile phones bleeping off, no talk about how the elections have gone, no talk about your latest business venture and most of all no talking about what kind of motor you're driving these days. What kind of idiot walks into someone's front room at a time like that to talk about worldly affairs?
Well, unfortunately, it seems there's quite a few.
Within 60 seconds someone always has to say: "So how's it going?"
The conversation usually goes down hill from there and god forbid two people don't agree about some issue or other.
The rest of the people sit around and watch as two of the greatest minds of Britain talk it out for the next hour or so.
While this is going on, one astute gentleman sits between both agreeing with everything.
Does this guy get paid for doing this? Is he hired by the hosts to make sure there are never any embarrassing silences?
Also, gone are the days when the siblings would be praised for doing absolutely nothing. Now it's a case of who can make the most fun out of his own son.
"My boy's a proper idiot...he can't even read," says the first man.
"Well my boy doesn't even try," comes the reply from another, and so on and so on.
It's had such an effect on me, I remove my earring, wear a wig and pretend I'm still at university just to fit in.
And why on earth is there still a gentleman who never ever changes his clothes? He'll say he drives a BMW and owns three properties, but you'll never see him in new set of clothes....even at Christmas. The same top, the same trousers, even the same socks.
And if for some reason you open your mouth to say anything, everyone looks at you with disdain. It's as if challenging the authority of the big liars is some sort of crime.
Time to rest in peace ladies and gentlemen.
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