God forbid that I never get a disease that requires expensive medicine as I would probably be denied it while living south of the Scottish border and be sent home to die, as some English people have recently.

However, if I moved to bonny Scotland, the home of our wonderful unelected leader Gordon Brown, I could not only receive the drugs needed without selling my house, but would also get free prescriptions, and my grandchildren would receive a university education absolutely free, unlike in England, where graduates depart with debts upwards of £10,000.

Mr Brown, the son of a church minister, does seem to have a tendency to be a little economical with the truth.

Take the recent inexplicable hikes in road tax - he uses the fictional global warning CO2 rip-off as a reason to squeeze even more money from motorists.

A large family, or one that uses a caravan for holidays, cannot realistically get about in a Fiat 500 - they need a larger vehicle in which to transport their kids or for towing.

There are obviously people out there, who buy large vehicles in which to pose, driving about with side lights and front fog lights switched on in the belief that it will make them look important, but the majority do so for practical purposes.

This new tax which will rise from £210 per year to £455 per year by 2010, supposedly only applied to vehicles manufactured after March 2006, with an emission level of 225g of carbon monoxide or more.

These will include the Volkswagen Sharan, Renault Espace and Ford Galaxies, to name a few.

However, Mr Brown did not make it known that secretly, he was going to abolish the exemption for older cars manufactured after March, 2001.

So even your old banger will cost you more to tax than it is probably worth.

Now we now have a situation whereby you can't afford to tax your car, you can't afford to fill it up and, thanks to Mr Brown, you can't afford to sell it.

Since 1977, the amount of tax taken by him has risen from 33 to 40 per cent and it increases every day. So don't bother saving for a pension as, with the price of food increasing by the hour, you'll probably starve to death before you retire.

If it wasn't for a phobia about getting bitten by a wild haggis and not being able to understand Scottish, I would be off like a shot an get ma'self a wee bothy in which to hide from this useless Labour Government.

Och aye the noo.

Tony Anchors, Didcot