Wake up and spill the coffee. After some beef

'It was pavement rage. It was kitchen rage. It was kitchen and bathroom rage. Compensate me'

A culture of blame? What's all this about us living in a culture of blame? No one takes the blame for anything any more. If you admit fault for anything, it'll be because you haven't read this article properly, and if you want to say that I am responsible for that, then I'll see you in court.

A culture of blame? What's all this about us living in a culture of blame? No one takes the blame for anything any more. If you admit fault for anything, it'll be because you haven't read this article properly, and if you want to say that I am responsible for that, then I'll see you in court.

The cup didn't have a warning on it! That coffee was hot! It was scalding, it was dangerous, the staff should have told us, the cup should have had a warning printed on it. I burned my legs and the restaurant is to blame and I demand compensation!

I was suffering from stress. From bullying at work. I was frightened by the way he towered over the desk looking at me. I was a victim of a culture of elitist masculinity trying to preserve its privileges. I was a victim of my own success, and I deserve compensation.

I was suffering from the Stress Syndrome. The Absent Parent Syndrome. The Work Syndrome. The Too Much Leisure Syndrome. The Too Much Success Too Early Syndrome. The Syndrome Syndrome.

It wasn't me. It was road rage. It was office rage. It was pavement rage. It was kitchen rage. It was kitchen and bathroom rage. Compensate me!

The ballots weren't counted. The judges weren't reliable. The deadlines were too early. Discretion was abused. The voters were incompetent. The ballot paper was too thick. The result was illegal, dishonest, improper, coerced and fraudulent, and if we'd been allowed to count the votes we wanted, our man would have won by a mudslide.

It was the wrong kind of rain, the wrong kind of leaves, the wrong kind of rails, the wrong kind of cracks, the wrong sort of safety inspectors, the wrong sort of contracts, the wrong sort of shareholders, the wrong sort of ministers, the wrong sort of structure, the wrong sort of privatisation. Yet we are carrying millions more passengers than before: we are victims of our own success, and yet we are paying compensation!

The party opposite created the problem entirely themselves. They had the idea for a dome. They decided to spend a billion pounds of public money on a dome. They chose the dome site. They wrote the dome's business plan. They said that there would be 12 million dome visitors. They told us we would destroy the local economy if we didn't keep the dome going. We believed them because they'd had 18 years in government to make the decision, we did all the right things but the press prevented anyone going and we got the blame! And it's still the most visited attraction in Europe! We are victims of our own success and we deserve to be compensated at the next election.

We were told that it was only a common market. We were told it was purely economic. We were told there would never be a European currency. We were told there would never be a European government. We were told there would never be a loss of sovereignty. We were told there would never be a European army. We were told there would never be a European superstate. We won't accept compensation in euros.

The Prime Minister told us beef was perfectly safe. The Minister of Agriculture told us the beef was perfectly safe. The officials told us beef was perfectly safe. The food-safety people told us beef was perfectly safe. The scientific establishment told us beef was perfectly safe. The farmers told us beef was perfectly safe. Europe tells us its beef is perfectly safe.

I couldn't see the cup. My kids were distracting me. I'm a single mother.

I don't have any help. The lights were too bright. I left my glasses on the counter. The staff didn't bring them to me. I couldn't see where the level of the coffee was. The cup should have had a warning in braille.

So you think this column lacks whimsy. It isn't wry enough. Don't blame me. The teacher specialising in sideways looks at the world was away when I did the skills course. And I've got a headache. And it's raining. And we're living in a condition of rapidly increasing entropy approaching ever faster the heat death of the universe.

Thank God Miles Kington will be back soon.

simoncarr75@hotmail.com

Miles Kington is on holiday