Bono and the crusty Aussies

Okay, so Bono's a tool. We know this, especially those of us who live in Dublin. I went to the loo in a nightclub once and when I came back to my seat Bono was sitting on my coat. He didn't even acknowledge me when I pulled it out from under his arse. So he's a tool. I know this.

We know he's a hypocrite too. He moved his money to the tax haven of Holland only last year, yet he's always lecturing the rest of us to dig deeper in our pockets for the common good.

He's an anti-poverty campaigner with his own investment vehicle. So yes, he's no stranger to contradiction.

He's a pompous arse, too. We found that out when he sued his clearly mental former stylist for the return of an old hat.

But in fairness to Bono, he could sit in his big house and polish his vintage car collection, as other members of U2 appear to do, and not give a shit about Africa.

He's made his millions. He doesn't need to be going around to G8 meetings or sitting down with African despots trying to find solutions to the problems plaguing the continent. He's clearly doing a lot more for Africa than any amount of unwashed, dreadlocked, Aussie backpackers with a ropey video camera.

Yet, strange isn't it, how those trustafarian wastes of oxygen are the ones who start hectoring and assume the moral high ground when they bump into Bono in the street?

If I was Bono, I'd have just smacked them in the mouth. They don't even deserve to be spoken with, this bunch of lazy, entitled, morally outraged professional wasters.

So, hypocritical, pompous tool that he is, I doff my old hat to Bono for even engaging with these crusty losers.