How to track illegal immigrants.

Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Appleby over 20 years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the county of Cumbria?

And, they even tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 125,000 illegal immigrants wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.

Just the ramblings of a madman.

More Islamist scum

 

The scum in our midst.

It truly has to be seen to be believed.

All in the meantime, our politicians and the MSM just try to censor us by invoking laws that allow these foul creatures to hide behind citing “racial prejudice” or “religious hate crime”. What our ruling elite don’t seem to comprehend is that Islam is not a race or religion, it’s an ideology. An ideology that wishes to take over the world by any means.

Algeria anyone?

Incidentally I think that the Algerian forces were quite right to storm the refinery. They knew that if they didn’t most probably the hostages would have been killed anyway.

You can’t reason with a fanatic who is convinced that his God will reward him, come what may.

Attempted murder.

The most frightening click you’ll ever hear.

I bet he wishes he hadn’t tried that. I’m sure he didn’t expect the kicking he got. personally I think that all British politicians deserve a bit of a kicking. It might knock some sense into them. Then again I doubt it would register in their Neanderthal brains

I never understood……..

……The Naval stores ordering system. As some of my readers have guessed by now, I worked at sea in a paramilitary capacity. Of course this meant that we had the misfortune to use the same system for ordering stores as the Royal Navy.

It ranks in my mind, as one of the most badly managed organisations of all. Though you must bear in mind that it appeared to be run by bureaucrats for bureaucrats. It was certainly not designed to be cost effective or end user friendly.

Imagine if you will, that you’re an engineer and you want to order a 7/16 whitworth nut to replace a defective one. In a normal spares catalogue used by the normally sane world you would expect to find it as 7/16 whitworth nut, steel. Simples. Not in naval stores (NS).

What you would find is pages of “Nut, machine”. No further information being available. Each one would have a unique 10 digit number. Often engineers would resort to ordering one of each. That could run into hundreds of unwanted nuts sitting around in workshop drawers for years. (often till the ship was scrapped). Spanners to fit those nuts had equally vague descriptions. “Spanner, crescent”, or “Spanner, Ring”.

Just a couple more examples of the idiotic naming of common or garden items.

The commonly known hose clamp or jubilee clip used to secure the ends of rubber hoses was given the name “Clamp, hose, wormdrive”. Or the common or garden, known throughout the world, “O-ring”, was designated with the name “Ring Sealing, Toroidal. Even more obscure was the simple “Olive” used in plumbing compression fittings. So obscure in fact that after 43 years I used to resort to buying them in B & Q using my own money.

Denomination of quantity (D of Q). This was something you had to get right. It could be a singleton, dozens, or even miles. Woe betide you if you got it wrong.

On one ship I was on, the Supply officer considered we were short of the humble sausage. Just to check if there was anything missing from his order of diverse  culinary delights, he asked his Chief cook to check his order. The Chief Cook tried to explain that the D of Q was wrong but was told that he was only the minion, and should get back to the galley where he belonged.

Imagine the shock horror of the Supply Officer when a Forty foot refrigerated container turned up with rather a lot of sausages. (The factory producing them had actually had to go on special overtime to fulfil the order).

Packaging. Or to give it it’s full name. “Nato Standard Packaging”.

Now if I ordered 100 13 Amp. domestic fuses I would expect them to turn up in a common or garden Jiffy bag. Not from NS. Each one is wrapped in green greasy packaging in a plastic heat sealed bag. Then wrapped in corrugated cardboard, and finally packaged in a 3” cardboard box, liberally secured with vast amounts of brown sticky tape. Result: Small pile of fuses on the table and a full bin bag of packaging.

Even sales of unwanted items were in my mind badly mishandled. (Another department that hasn’t a clue).

Imagine if you will.

“One small fleet tanker, full service history, one lady owner (Her Maj), never raced or rallied. £5M ONO.

Bear in mind that this vessel had just recently had a £1M refit, you would think that the price was very reasonable. Even though the on-board spares (£1/4M) and the ICIS military communications suite (£1M) was not included in the price. When we were selling the vessel the cost of building a similar vessel at the time would have been at least £25M.

It was sold to the Portuguese for £1.2M, complete with all spares and the ICIS, and £0.5M of cargo thrown in.

It’s time departments like these were put out to pasture and normal commercial practices employed.

Just as an aside, a standard three pin socket cost £13. (In 1996). And did you know that you can still order “Scissors, lamp trimming”. Fuck me,  haven’t they realised yet that ships now use the new electrick lite.

Having heard today that 5,300 soldiers are going to be dismissed from the army, maybe culling 5,300 civil servants working for NS, might save a shed load more money for the exchequer.

It's snow joke.

Sorry about the title.

It looks like I'll have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to dig the car out of the snow. After all Mrs FE must go to work to earn money to keep me in the style I'm accustomed to. As that nice Mr Cameron keeps saying. "It's the right thing to do". (Mrs FE going to work that is).

Burger anyone?

I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist the following.

Reading the label on these Tesco burgers.... it turns out they're fairly low in fat, but surprisingly high in Shergar

New range of burger elsewhere too - my Lidl Pony

Had a burger last night from Tesco's - gave me the trots

Bought some value hamburgers from Tesco last night, put them in the fridge, and they're off....

Despite the recent news, Tesco's say that their beef burger sales remain stable.

I've got no problem with Tesco burgers, it's the quarter pandas that worry me

I was in a Tesco cafe the other day. The waitress asked if I wanted anything on my burger. I said £5 each way.

I can't believe this has been allowed to happen. I think it's time someone new took the reins at Tesco.

It's been tough working on the meat counter in Tesco this week....I feel like I'm a flogging a dead horse

Horse meat in Tesco burgers......what's the odds on that

Just been shopping in Tesco got a bottle of Bacardi, bottle of Lambs, and some burgers......so that white rum navy rum and red rum

Had some burgers from Tesco for tea last night.....still got a bit between my teeth

Tesco have launched a new bap to go with their burgers .....thorough bread.

 

And finally.

 

 

 

Politeness.

A devout Arab Muslim entered a black cab in London. He curtly

 

asked the cabbie to turn off the radio because as decreed by his

 

religious teaching, he must not listen to music because in the time

 

of the prophet there was no music, especially Western music

 

which is the music of the infidel. The cab driver politely switched

 

off the radio, stopped the cab and opened the door. The Arab

 

asked him, "What are you doing? "The cabbie answered,

 

"In the time of the prophet there were no taxis, so fuck off and wait

 

for a camel!"

Scotland against spin

A new site dedicated to fighting against the scourge of wind farms in Scotland. I don't live in Scotland, but I wish them the best in their fight.

Here is their mission statement:

Scotland Against Spin is the name of a new national alliance of anti-wind farm campaigners.

It was set up following the successful, very vocal, protest in Perth last October. That day made clear that people across Scotland had had enough of current government wind policy and were looking for a new, stronger initiative to support. People want the truth, deserve the truth and will fight to get the truth.

Scotland Against Spin is against the spin of the turbines, the spin of the developers, the spin of trade association Scottish Renewables and the spin of the Scottish Government. We will attack their spin in the media, with facts and demands for data relating to such statements, and strive to make the wider public aware of how they are funding such a deceitful industry.

 

A recent report (14th January 2013) stated that nearly 10,000 people felt so strongly against wind turbines that they have written to the Scottish Government to tell them so. Many more have objected to their local councils. Scotland Against Spin wants to reach out to the huge number of individuals, groups and activists across Scotland who are fighting wind developments where they live and in areas they care about.

To make this mission successful we need you all. Your expertise, experience and dogged determination are invaluable and will lead us to triumph over the injustice that is being forced upon us. We will lobby the government for a moratorium on further wind development until the facts regarding all issues have been independently scrutinised and the true data made public.

 

As an embryonic organisation our website is still under construction and the finer details have yet to be addressed. We wanted you to know that there is a dedicated team of experienced campaigners who are volunteering their time to bring this together so we can start making an impact against this destructive policy now!

 

Scotland Against Spin is going live on facebook and Twitter so feel free to join in and help spread the word that we are here and that we want everyone to join us. The more supporters we have, the more noise we can make and the sooner our politicians will be forced to act.

Please register with Scotland Against Spin here

Here is their web address

A novel way to go to work.

It was November 1983 when the phone rang.

"Good morning FE, this is your appointer. I want you to join the RFA (Royal Fleet Auxiliary) Sir Percivale on the 11th of December. You'll need to fly out from RAF Brize Norton and join the ship at Ascension Island. Oh and bye the way you'll be joining as temporary acting 2nd Engineer Officer".

Now I wasn't going to refuse a pay rise so I answered in the affirmative, naval jargon.

"Oh Goody"

On the appointed date I caught the train to Swindon and after a coach ride from the Station, I duly arrived at Brize Norton, the evening before my flight was due to leave. There I was allocated senior officer accommodation (You don't have to share a bog standard two star bedroom). The following morning, after a hearty breakfast (Tea and Coffee), I repaired to the front desk and enquired when the coach would be leaving for the aircraft. The response being "Oh no Sir. We have a staff car waiting for you". (Oh goody, again). However a further surprise was awaiting.

On boarding the aircraft (A VC10), I found that I was going to be the only passenger. Now  you might think that's great, till I looked around to see what else was being transported. You'll never guess.

A fucking shed load of ammunition filling the rest of the plane. Obviously a no smoking flight. Damn.

With all this cargo of course, that meant that it would require a stop for fuel on the way. So after many hours of flight (We were late taking off anyway as the door wouldn't close without a lot of brute force) with myself flitting between peering at the labels on the cargo and and chatting to the flight crew up front, we arrived at our fuelling stop.

Dakar in Senegal.

By this time I was looking forward to the stop. Visions of cold beer and food had been floating before my eyes for some time. (Compo ration chicken curry is not my idea of airline food).

Not to be. Instead of the aircraft turning of the runway and heading for the terminal, it turned the  other way  and headed for the furthest point from the terminal and finally parked next to a smelly monsoon ditch. I was reliably informed by the flight crew that the Sengalese don't like their terminals disappearing caused by massive explosions from aircraft filled with ammunition.

Well at least we could get off and smoke. There was a mad rush down the portable steps when they arrived. I was first off due to pulling rank and off course being closer to the door helped. We didn't even stop smoking when a bowser started filling up the aircraft with aviation fuel.

Eventually having filled up with fuel, we set off on our final leg.

Finally we arrived at our destination without any big bangs and I was that little bit further on my journey.

After entering the airport building I was met by an RAF corporal who was there to take me to my next VIP accommodation for the night. After a quite dodgy journey in a very dodgy, seen better days, landrover I arrived at my quarters. This was an amazing device called a "Concertina". An american version of a portacabin which could be flatpacked for transit and then quickly erected when required. Of course being a yank construct it had lighting and air conditioning built in. Even a telephone.

After telling me that he'd pick me up at 0800 the corporal drove off in his even more dodgy landrover. I did hope he'd come by with four wheels and not three and one trying to emulate a mobius loop.

*I promise you the journey will end soon*

Dawn Broke.

Right on time my friendly corporal turned up and I loaded my suitcases in the back and we set off in the direction of the airfield. Of course I politely asked why we were setting off in this direction, when the jetty was in the opposite direction . To be politely informed by the driver, "Nah Sir, the swell is to great today, so you're going out by chopper" (Helicopter). ooh err.

On arriving at the Chopper landing area and unloading my gear I asked forementioned driver what I should do now? The reply came thus. "When you see a chopper landing just stick your thumb up and ask them to give you a lift". (Before you say bullshit, this was absolutely true at this time after the conflict).

So I did. To a sodding great Sea king.

Mistake. I should have waited for something a little smaller.

The reason being that a Sea King is too big to land on the flight deck of an LSL. (Landing Ship Logistic).

Now as you may have gathered, is that I'm an engineer by profession, and to fly in something that is held up by brute force, with the handling glide characteristics of a brick, is really not my idea of sustainable transportation. However the worst was to come.

After a few minutes I became suspicious when one of the flight crew started tieing  my suitcases together and playing abstractly with the winch. It finally dawned. I was going to be lowered down on a thin wire onto a rolling and pitching ship.

Oh shit.

Actually they didn't lower me onto the ship. They lowered me onto a 40' container on the deck of the ship. Normally the outgoing Engineer will give a handover, verbally and written to his relief, before leaving. You try doing that on top of a container with a multi horsepower egg beater hovering overhead.

That's enough for the night. maybe I'll write the sequel.  Penguins, Bofors gun, how I made millions a few quid from expenses, Gibraltar, how I lost a child? And much, much, more