Calm down pet, this is completely barking - Daily Mail

By Richard Littlejohn
Last updated at 1:45 AM on 29th April 2011

Frankly, I don't know who's worse — those  po-faced Leftie birds who go ballistic if you call them 'luv' or the pinny-whipped menfolk who leap to their defence.

When I saw Call Me Dave tell prize lemon-sucker Angela Eagle to 'Calm down, dear' in the Commons, I roared with laughter.

It wasn't so much the put-down, which was taken from that Michael Winner car insurance advert. I just knew what the splenetic reaction would be. And I wasn't disappointed.

High comedy: When David Cameron told lemon-sucker Angela Eagle to calm down - I roared with laughter

Extra touch: It's a shame Cameron wasn't sitting close enough to pat Eagle on the arm, she's a proud lesbian but the Labour's Shadow Economic Secretary doesn't seem to get a lot of fun out of life

Bang on cue, the Labour front bench went berserk, all faux outrage and pantomime grimaces.

Eagle's explosive expression was priceless, though familiar. She may be a say-it-loud-I'm-out-and-I'm-proud lesbian, but she doesn't seem to get much fun out of life.

Ed Balls leapt to her defence, a veritable socialist Sir Galahad, while his pretty little wife sat there scowling like a precocious three-year-old who'd been given the wrong Christmas present.

Yvette Cooper scrubs up quite nicely but always has a face like a wet weekend in Whitby. Like so many of these ghastly Labour wimmin, the ugliness comes from within.

It's a pity that Dave wasn't sitting close enough to pat Eagle on the forearm. That always works, too. I did it once to soppy Liberal MP Sarah Teather on a television panel and I thought she was going to implode.

Patronising these women is the only way to deal with them. Blowing them a kiss is another guaranteed bull's-eye.

Then there was the time I called Polly Toynbee 'pet' on Question Time. She stomped out of the studio at the end of the show in a magnificent stage-managed strop, like the late Peggy Mount under full sail.

Predictably the Guardian went Looby Loo yesterday with a wonderfully-bonkers supplement trashing the Prime Minister.

It was a minor classic. 'In terms of levels of offensive, where to start? The imputation that Eagle, being a woman was just being hysterical, over-emotional? The further imputation that nothing she said was therefore worth listening to? The belittling "dear"? The arrogant superiority? The paternal order not just to listen to him, but to "the doctor", these men who know best? Frankly, he only failed to pat her gently on the head.'

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Talk about a fit of the vapours. Pass the valium, Polly. I thought we'd grown out of this nonsense years ago. Sadly, not. Suddenly it's Haringey Council circa 1981 all over again.

Are these self-righteous munters really so insecure that they feel threatened when a man calls them 'dear'? If they are, then I suggest they need serious psychiatric help.

Ed Balls and his gallant band of emasculated brothers who rallied to defend Eagle's honour were no doubt taking the opportunity to score a few political points. Gives them something to do, I suppose, since they haven't got anything useful to say on the big issues of the day.

It was the only course of action available to them. Woe betide any male Labour politician who shrugged off or — heaven forfend — actually smiled at this perceived slight. He'd be in the spare bedroom for the duration and would be well advised to hide the pruning shears.

Why is the Left obsessed with banning harmless terms of endearment? Simple, they think that if they control the language, they win the debate.

Racist? Simon Ledger was arrested for playing Kung Fu Fighting in a bar because it offended passers-by

We've had the idiocy of Labour councils and health authorities drawing up proscribed lists of words which can lead to disciplinary action and even dismissal.

In Newcastle, for instance, staff were told they mustn't address members of the public as 'hinny', 'pet' or 'bonny lass'. What kind of vindictive, sex-starved lunatic wants to ruin a midwife's career for calling a patient 'me duck'?

I've lost count of the number of times waitresses and shop assistants call me 'darling' or 'sweetie'. I had a lovely Geordie secretary who called me 'pet lamb'. These days, that probably counts as a hate crime.

Labour enshrined its perverse prejudices in law, which is how you end up with a beach bar singer being arrested for performing Kung Fu Fighting and being accused of 'racially aggravated harassment' on the grounds that it's offensive to the Chinese.

Although Simon Ledger, about whom I wrote yesterday, has now been released without charge he won't be receiving an apology from the Isle of Wight Plod.

Having legislated 'acceptable' limits on freedom of expression between the sexes and the races, the Left is now turning its attention to relations between humans and animals.

Editors of a new journal on animal ethics, including an Oxford University theologian, say we should no longer be able to call our cats, dogs and hamsters 'pets'. They should be referred to as 'companion animals'.

'Despite its prevalence, "pets" is surely a derogatory term both of the animals concerned and the human carers,' the report declares. They also want to ban the expression 'owners'.

How long before someone gets his collar felt for calling out 'Here, boy!' to his labrador in a public park? Under the new code, that's not only sexist, it's clearly a breach of animal rights.

Nor should we be allowed to say 'sly as a fox', 'drunk as a skunk' or 'eat like a pig' as these are unhelpful species stereotypes. As if a skunk gives a monkey's, if you'll pardon the expression. This is beyond barking.

I don't know where this leaves 'fly like an Eagle' and I hesitate to seek advice in the current circumstances.

Calm down, pet.

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There's been a church on the site of York Minster since the year 628. The present structure dates back to 1230.

Over the centuries, worshippers have visited the Gothic cathedral to light candles and pray for friends and loved ones.

Part of the roof was damaged by fire in 1984, but this was caused by a lightning strike not by a naked flame. An Act of God, you might say. That was before the cult of elf 'n' safety. Mail reader Mike Proom has sent me a photo he took over Easter of the remembrance candle tray.

It now comes complete with warning notices, a fire blanket and an extinguisher.

The whole set-up looks ridiculous. But what else can we expect in an age where bell-ringers are forced to wear crash helmets and ear muffs; hassocks are banned from pews in case someone in the congregation falls off and hurts himself while at prayer; and churches are required by law to erect 'No Smoking' signs in the knave and 'Exit' signs over the door, like a cheap boarding house?

Heaven knows what the Almighty makes of it. But I'd watch out for another bolt of lightning, just in case.

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New York, paris, Guangdong

A right royal cock up, Rodders: The wrongly printed wedding crockery

Del Boy might not be fly-pitching outside Westminster Abbey today. But, as I predicted earlier this week, he'll be there in spirit.

Had he been around, I imagined him selling wrongly-spelled commemorative mugs from a suitcase.

There's still plenty of tat on offer, from other sources. Instead of Del's musical Lady Di toilet roll caddy, made in Azerbaijan, you can buy a tasteful Wills and Kate souvenir mug, crafted in the 'finest bone china', courtesy of Guandong Enterprises.

Or 'Will' and Kate, as it says on the side of the mug in ornate script. And like a scene from Only Fools, there's a picture of Prince Harry, not Prince William.

Still, they can always paint over Kate and knock them out again when Harry does eventually marry. That's what Del Boy would do. This time next year, Rodders...

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• Alan Warner drove into Adams Garage in Aylesbury, Bucks, to fill his tank. As he was pumping petrol, an officious female voice came over the loudspeaker instructing him: 'Close your car door.'
Alan ignored her.

He was then accosted by a woman in a hi-viz jacket, marked 'SAFETY CAPTAIN', who insisted he shut the door 'to prevent dangerous petrol vapours going into the car'.

Alan drives a convertible and, as he was taking advantage of the early Easter heatwave, the top was down. This didn't appear to register with the humourless 'safety captain'.

You couldn't make it up.

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iDoodle on the council

At a time of budget cuts, one local authority is buying councillors iPads at 500 a pop.

Surrey Heath Council thinks it could save money in the long term by cutting printing costs.
Six of the shiny new tablet computers have been handed out already and if a pilot scheme proves successful up to 40 will be bought.

But some older councillors have already complained that if paper is withdrawn they will have nothing to scribble notes or doodle on.

These are the same kind of people last seen daubing Tippex on computer screens when the council switched from typewriters to word processors.

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