And here’s to you, Mrs……..

I’m always getting confused, and there are just too many people out there to do all the confusing. For instance just how many famous Robinsons are there these days!? You’re spot on: too darn many. First there’s, er, The Swiss Family Robinson. And then there’s the Robinson who brought us Robinson’s Barley Water;  a beverage that no player at Wimbledon ever, ever drank. Of course Robinson Crusoe would be up there if his name was the other way round but at this moment in time I’m refusing to accept Robinson as a first name. And then we have Robinsons’ Jim and Paul off of Neighbours, Mrs Robinson from The Graduate and Chris Robinson from the never-quite-made-it-to-the-proper-big-time southern rock outfit The Black Crowes. Oh, to be the son of a Robin.

You’d think that would be enough, but we haven’t hit rock bottom just yet and today we’ll be deciding, for all the time that’s left, who is the most rubbish Robinson of them all: Tony, Anne or Tommy. To establish which one of those three should be permanently deprived of oxygen first, as a matter of global interest, I’ll be carrying out a series of tests and, before you ask, yes I have done something similar before but never, ever all about the Robinsons. That sound you can hear is some kind of abrasive agent being busy at the bottom of a barrel.

1. Not being a real historian. Let’s start with little Tommy, who believes that he is somehow genetically linked to Alfred The Great and that brown people don’t belong on the streets of Olde Albion, and also has about as rich an understanding of history as I do of advanced binary. If you follow his family tree back far enough you’ll get to his mother, who shat him out roughly 36 years ago. Anne (not his mother) liked to give the impression she knew all about history when she hosted The Weakest Link, but we all know she got to see the answers beforehand and probably knows squat. She does have some concept of the passage of time however, as evidenced by her ability to be ancient mutton dressed as slightly less ancient mutton. Finally we come to Tony who has actually built a career as a ‘historian’ based entirely on the fact he once played a fictional character in a historical comedy. I once ate a cheeseburger and therefore I am Ronald McDonald. That’s how much of a historian Tony Robinson is and so he wins round 1 by a league (though not the English Defence League).
2. Kidding themselves that they are sexy. Tony’s out of the race already, he never left the blocks. Tommy left the blocks but while he may have mild sex appeal to other clueless racists and their wives he’s pretty much as sexy as anyone can be in a Burberry cap; which is to say not at all. Anne however has convinced herself that she is some kind of sultry cock magnet and that age shall not wither her, etc. Sadly she forgets that her sex appeal is applicable only to the elderly and deranged and personally I would rather put my genitals into the care of a hammerhead shark than her. No-one knows what kind of shape she’s in these days because we haven’t seen her recently. Long may her misconception linger. Winner by a distance.
3. Being a less than useful advisor. Anyone can give advice but not everyone can give good advice. In the role of Baldrick Tony Robinson often gave some very questionable tips and hints but I suppose they were scripted so you can’t really blame him. Anne was the type to readily give out acidic suggestions to the contestants on her show, eg – ‘you are the weakest link, why don’t you piss off and die’ – a show which made her millions for being a nasty little cow. Big, bad, quite small Tommy Robinson on the other hand was taken very seriously as an advisor, but given he was an advisor to UKIP leader Gerard Batten that can’t be taken very seriously at all. Besides, many wouldn’t consider “why don’t you fuck off back where you came from, darkie” as advice, as such.
4. Having a very small willy. Obviously this round doesn’t promise a lot for Anne Robinson but, in this day and age, you never know what she’s packing in her M&S knick-knocks. Tommy Robinson looks like quite a short man and probably has short man syndrome anyway so let’s just assume he is less than well endowed in the underpant department. In case I’m wrong I would happily watch an episode of ‘Let’s All Look At Tommy Robinson’s Cock’ featuring Tommy Robinson and Davina McCall. Golly, I’ll feel silly if it turns out he’s hung like a giraffe. When it comes to Tony then it helps that I almost met him once and not only was he also quite short (and at 73 is unlikely to have grown since) he was driving an enormous, shiny new Range Rover, the biggest in the shop, and some might suggest the car was nothing more than a blatant penis extension. An enormous shiny one. We should really give it to Tony but I suppose technically Anne’s is the smallest, so she ends up the surprise winner of round 4.
5. You know when you have an idea and then you run out of steam? Well that’s what’s happening here.
6. Being a silly prick. This is a close one because they all do so well in this category. That’s right, when it comes to pedigree arseholes we’re dealing with the best of the best. Tony Robinson is a pretend historian who cannot bear the idea that people will always remember him for playing a putrid imbecile (albeit in one of the finest comedies ever made) and he also cleverly supports his humble left wing credentials by driving a brand new Range Rover. Fancy that. Anne Robinson is a futile sow who we should at least thank for not being in the public eye very much anymore. She may have fancied herself a saucy dominatrix but sadly for her very few others did. Her ‘acerbic’ wit was little more than the most obvious joke delivered using the least funny route. Both a bit pointless, I’d say, but believe me there is a huge gulf between them and tough guy Tommy. The man would be truly dangerous if anybody who supported him wasn’t an unlettered, be-chipped of both shoulders, baffled xenophobe with a very poor grasp of history, culture, anthropology, migration, settlement, religion, economics, politics, democracy and, as they themselves might say, the Islams. He sets a new low and gives all Robinsons a bad name. Or he would if that was his real name.

Phew. That was a struggle, but I’m posting anyway because I’m just as entitled to be as complete a waste of your time as any Robinson you’d care to mention. I’ll try to think of something better next time. Try.

G B Hewitt. 22.08.2019