My kind of treat to trick.
Thursday, 28 October 2010
Firstly, I must apologise for my lack of posting this week. (O.K. you couldn’t care less). I’ve been into the last throws of assisting my daughter and her fiancée buy their own property. Believe you me, it will be nigh on impossible for most youngsters to purchase a roof over their heads, unless someone has a word with the mortgage lenders. (If you’re reading this, daughter. A good single malt wouldn’t go amiss).
Contracts were exchanged yesterday and it was decided by all, to do a bit of tarting up of the property, ahead of moving in the furniture, goods and chattels, cats, etc., on Saturday.
Right off we went to B & Q to fill up a trolley with all the usual such as paint, pollyfilla, and various other bits of decorating sundries.
Now this what I found bizarre. There was one manned checkout and four self service checkouts. Seeing there was a queue at the manned checkout we scurried over to one of the self service machines. (With some trepidation on my part).
Absolutely no problem. Why?
They bloody supplied a member of staff to do the whole process for us! The only bit my daughter had to do for herself, was insert her debit card and punch in her pin.
Oh well. Life is a puzzle that I’ll never understand.
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Oracle octopus Paul diesOne of the biggest stars of the 2010 FIFA World Cup – Oracle Paul – died on Tuesday, in the Sea Life Aquarium, in the German city of Oberhausen.
The Octopus became a global celebrity after accurately predicting the outcome of all Germany’s matches in South Africa, as well as the Spanish victory in the final against the Netherlands.
Common octopuses live an average of no more than three years, so Paul was not expected to work at the next big football event, which is Euro 2012 in Poland and Ukraine.
The world of football will never be the same again.
Monday, 25 October 2010
My darling eldest daughter and her fiancée are now the proud owners of their first property. Contracts were exchanged today.
It’s been a small nightmare which shouldn’t have happened. See this post
I forgot how stressful the whole property buying business was.
A large whisky is called for.
*Then again. When have I ever poured a small whisky?*
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Saturday, 23 October 2010
Another self serving bunch of twats trying to justify their existence.
In a statement on the Comprehensive Spending Review announcement today, Phelim Mac Cafferty, the chair of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans (LGBT) Greens stated:
"The proposed cuts in today's Comprehensive Spending Review are gravely worrying for the LGBT community.
WTF and why?
"The axing of nearly half a million jobs in the public sector will hit LGBT people disproportionately. It will mean the erosion of dedicated service provision to among many others groups, LGBT people. Public services, meanwhile, will be placed in the hands of private profiteers.
An eye-watering £18 billion cut in welfare spending between now and 2015 will hurt those who have lost their jobs through the recession and those unwell on benefits. Along with the dramatic hike in National Insurance, the poorest are unfairly facing the blame. For those on housing benefit, especially given the imposed caps on housing benefit, we can sadly only expect a rise in homelessness, despite the fact that we know already that there are a disproportionate quantity of LGBT homeless.
The point of this missive is that I get pissed off by special interest groups sounding out about how badly treated they are. Grow a pair of balls* and realise that life isn’t fair.
* Not sure whether that is apt for the transgender or Lesbians.
Then again why should I care?
Friday, 22 October 2010
Imagine the following:
You have just made it through your wedding ceremony and have stepped out on the front steps of the church. The photographer raises his camera. Following a family tradition, both of you hold white doves which you will release together.
You and your new bride stand shoulder to shoulder with a dove in your hands as your friends and family eagerly wait. The photographer gives the signal and you and your bride open your hands toward the sky. Not a dry eye anywhere, the camera flashes; the moment is saved for eternity...
Thursday, 21 October 2010
Just goes to show that the left doesn’t know what the right are doing. Best do your homework first before you start pontificating.
A council with one of London's strongest anti-smoking policies has bowed to pressure to reveal nearly £1.5 million it invests in tobacco firms.
Of course they didn’t want the truth out in the open.
But during an Evening Standard investigation into the payment of more than £160 million by London council pension funds into cigarette-making firms, the authority tried to obstruct publication of its holdings in such companies.
Officials eventually conceded the council directly owns £1 million in RJ Reynolds, maker of Camel cigarettes, through its pension fund. Further inquiries showed it invests nearly £500,000 more in other cigarette companies including British American Tobacco and Imperial Tobacco.
Redbridge Council. Hang your heads in shame.
Me. I just laugh at the hypcrites
So you think you've got the answer to all your cleaning problems... get a cleaner! It's simple. Or is it? The following diary written by someone who employs a cleaner might make you think again.
7.30am Cleaner due in 90 minutes. Aaargh! Mad rush to clean, dust, spritz, buff and polish things so that cleaner doesn't think I'm a slob (she would of course be right). Hide dirty underwear. Bin really dirty underwear. Hide 'dirty' (ie provocative) underwear so cleaner doesn't think I'm kinky.
8am Leave house to avoid encountering cleaner - she thinks I have a proper nine to five job.
9am Realise I've forgotten to leave money for cleaner.
9.30am Return home to encounter cleaner reading my mail. Embarrassed exchange of pleasantries and 20 quid.
9.45am Point out that windows need cleaning. Cleaner sniffs. 'Don't do windows 'cos of me back'. Neither does she do 'fridges, ovens, chip pans or cat litter'. (I don't have a cat. Perhaps she is trying to tell me my flat smells a bit?)
10am Cleaner makes tea, complains about lack of milk and asks whether I'm going to be late for work.
11am - 5pm Mooch around shops trying not to think about what cleaner might be poking about with in my flat. Contemplate shinning up drainpipe and peering through window, then remember it's too dirty to see through.
6pm Return home. Admire the way cleaner has moved every single item of furniture. Spend three hours moving it all back, and thus uncovering stains which cleaner couldn't be arsed to clean.
9pm Note marked absence of biscuits, tea, pile of nicely ironed clothes and assorted newspapers marked 'please do not chuck out as I haven't read these yet'.
10pm Sit down to watch video recording of Eastenders screened earlier on in the evening.
10.05pm Discover that cleaner unplugged video and reset it.
10.06pm Watch unwanted eight hour video of International Golf, before falling asleep and having violent dreams about disembowelment of cleaner with a Dyson crevice tool.
Repeat once a week as necessary, and say out loud, rhetorically, 'This is 'labour-saving'?'
Uses for Unwanted CDs
Something obviously has to be done about this problem. Certain inventive minds have come up with a number of uses for these CDs, thus avoiding space wastage and also preventing future generations making the mistake of coming across these CDs and inserting them into their computers.
The current most popular use is to use them as frisbees. They don't fly very well, they break easily, but there's plenty more where they came from.
They can be stuck (label first) onto the wall in a pattern as a nice modern art decoration.
They make great novelty beer mats.
You can use particularly shiny ones as shaving mirrors.
Superglue them all together, and use as a large-volume, small-capacity Smarties (See Note 1) tube, as extra-secure cable insulation, as small coffee tables, or as rollers for transporting large furniture.
Become a physics lecturer and use them to demonstrate refraction of light.
Glue one to the back of your hamster's wheel so it can use its reflection as a pace setter while exercising.
Propose to your beloved and present it as a novelty engagement ring.
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
No. I’m not going to bother you with the comprehensive spending review. This is far more serious.
Today I was coerced into transferring a considerable amount of money into a solicitor’s bank account. This solicitor is acting as an intermediary, for a shadowy couple who appear out of the shadows every so often. This is not the first time I’ve had dealings with these people. They’ve even followed me abroad in pursuance of gain, in their quest to bankrupt me.
I’ve even been accosted in restaurants and pubs and forced to pay for their meals in order to get them off my back. How much more can a man stand?
I’ve even been forced to lock money into a bank account for three years in order that they can extract the maximum out of me.
At this time I would hope that my readers have now phoned The Police, Social Services, The Vice Squad, Their Local Diversity Outreach co-coordinator, Gay Lesbian Transgender Representative, (What ever floats your boat) etc. In order to help FE from these criminals.
Stop that dialling. NOW.
Saint FE has actually been trying to get the Eldest Daughter and her Fiancée onto the housing ladder. But my God the hoops you have to go through.
The end is Nigh. Hopefully.
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
We really are proverbially fucked.
From the Tax payers alliance.
Alternative Uses For Junk Mail
Flyers and leaflets can be used as an endless source of cheap bookmarks.
Some junk mail envelopes are blank and can easily be reused.
Large flyers and catalogues can make good fire-lighters.
Alternative Uses for Unwanted Magazines
Read at least one issue of the offending magazine. If you like what you see (you never know), there should be no further problem.
If someone in the house already has a subscription to the magazine and you now get two of each issue, put one in the bathroom or toilet. It provides good reading material, or at least might come in handy during toilet paper shortages.
Move house. They can't find you if you change your address. Note that this is a rather silly option, as it would be much cheaper just to unsubscribe from the magazine.
If you have a friend that you suspect might enjoy reading about motor sports, or cactus gardens, or whatever other completely arbitrary thing the magazine happens to be about, simply give them the magazines.
Many magazines are printed on recycled paper. If your much-despised publication happens to be one of these, then it may be a good idea to think about using them for something like the lining on the floor of a birdcage, or as a place for a small dog to urinate. Alternatively, recycled paper is also good for papier maché (provided the dog doesn't get to it first).
There is a chance, however small, that your magazine is prestigious enough to be collectable (See Note 1). Just find a large box, put all of your magazines in it until the subscription runs out, and then stuff it up inside your attic and try not to forget about them (See Note 2).
If all this doesn't work, just give up. Some people out there might contemplate taking the effort to throw their unwanted magazines in the bin or recycle them, but that's far too much effort.
Monday, 18 October 2010
This was going to be a reply in the comments but I thought that the general theme would be better aired in the open.
In reply to the Weekend Yachtsman who commented on my last bank post with this.
Not so sympathetic on charges, to be honest. Everything is there in the small print; if you don't read it, and/or don't honour the agreements you've signed up to, you don't have any gripe when the advertised penalties come into effect. If you don't understand that, you shouldn't be opening a bank account, frankly.The last point you make is ludicrous
Lives ruined? Get real.
If you don't understand that, you shouldn't be opening a bank account, frankly.Answer me this Mr Yachty. How can you not have a bank account these days? How many companies pay their employees in cash? Very, very, few I would surmise.
(I’m not slagging you off. I’m just stating a fact)
A lot of the cases I dealt with, involved working with people on a low wage who could just about make ends meet. Most had an overdraft limit and were at times forced by circumstance to hover near that limit due some unforeseen circumstance. One case in point was that a close relative died and funeral expenses needed to be paid. You get the picture.
Now the family in question, being money conscientious, had set up ten direct debits to pay the various utility bills that we are all required to pay. Can you imagine their shock when they received a rude letter from one of the utility companies stating that the direct debit had failed to be honoured? On contacting the bank they found that the bank had stopped all their direct debits to the utility companies as the family was over it’s overdraft limit by a few pounds.
Bad enough. However the family were penalised by the bank with a charge of £38.
So what you say.
They were charged £38 for exceeding their overdraft limit and ten times £38 for the direct debits. A whopping £418.
From then on they could never recover.
All the banks loaded their penalties in this way, even though it is widely known that with their computerised systems, the costs of stopping a direct debit, cheque, etc, would at most cost them £2.
But then again the banks made £6,000,000,000 from their charges alone, per year.
Just as an aside. Until the OFT challenged them and lost due to incompetence, not one case, where people challenged the banks in court, ever went to court. The banks would prevaricate right down to the wire. Even settling on the court steps before the hearing. They knew that what they were doing couldn’t stand scrutiny. For the moment they have won the battle. But have they won the war?
You have the right of reply Mr Weekend Yachtsman.
Of course I might have a diatribe about Weekend sailors. I was a Professional seafarer for 43 years and came to deplore the sheer lack of knowledge of the “Rule of the Road” by weekend sailors.
Phew that’s better. Off for a ciggy and a large whisky.
This entry eloquently demonstrates why you really shouldn't take up smoking.
Take one cigarette paper, one filter (if you have one) and one ashtray. Remove a butt from the ashtray, hold it above the paper and roll it between your thumb and forefinger so that any remaining tobacco falls on to the paper. Remove another butt from the ashtray and repeat until the paper is covered with tobacco. Place the filter at the end of the paper, roll the paper, light the cigarette, inhale and instantly regret it.
At some point many tobacco smokers will have experienced the 'retread', a second-hand cigarette that is usually rolled in the days immediately preceding pay-day or giro-day, and that carries with it the shame, desperation and lack of forward-planning that characterises the psychology of those of us addicted to tobacco. These characteristics manifest themselves as follows:
Lack of Forward Planning
A retread is rolled when a smoker has run out of tobacco and has also run out of money, preventing the purchase of any more. The smoker generally doesn't notice the imminent tragedy until it's too late. At no point during the previous week or so does the smoker think 'Oh, tobacco's a bit short, best stock up while I've still got some cash'; it's not until the hand reaches to the bottom of the packet to find only crumbs that the severity of the situation becomes apparent. The lack of forward planning is inherent in any smoker - we all know that in the long term smoking isn't going to do us any favours but we carry on regardless.
A retread is constructed by scouring ashtrays and attempting to amass enough tobacco from the butts contained therein to cobble together a new cigarette. A retread is never pleasant and a rational person would rarely smoke one out of choice, but desperation can do terrible things to rationality. Being a combination of ash and dry tobacco, a retread burns badly, hurts the throat and, during construction, makes a terrible mess under the fingernails. The smoker can only hope that they can find a nail brush and that there are some filters left.
And some papers.
The natural successor to such an act of desperation is shame. Rummaging around ashtrays in search of a final drag lacks dignity. Rummaging around the ashtrays of other people is even worse (though that is generally localised to the early hours of parties). As the tobacco comes from the end of smoked cigarettes it has already been coated with tar and nicotine, making the retread a nasty affair and leading to a horrendous cough the following morning, reminding the smoker of the depths to which they have sunk. A retread smoker is rarely a proud smoker.
Oh No Not Again
A seriously bad planner might find themselves retreading two-three days before getting paid. This can lead to retreads of retreads and even retreads of retreaded retreads, which are as ghastly as they sound. It's a humbling moment when you find yourself eyeing up the ashtrays, knowing that the same thing happened last month and will no doubt happen next month, re-treading the retread path.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
An open letter to the leader of the
Conservative Blue labour party.
I used to be a lifelong member of what was the conservative party. Alas no more.
I used to believe the conservative party to be the party of low taxes and little state interference. I now realise that this coagulation of a government is no better than the last.
- All I see is my quality of life is going to be further eroded in your “Lets bash the middle class again” campaign. Yes I think you need the money. But surely, if you let me just have a little bit of it to spend, I might just help to keep British business afloat.
- Where’s your referendum on Europe that you promised? Have you mislaid it? Or is it that you’ve realised just like the rest us that, we are irrevocably bound to be governed by Brussels due to that Monocular, Nokia throwing, spendthrift, cunt, Gordon Brown who signed the Lisbon Treaty ?
- Banging on about the EU for a little longer. If as most pundits seem to agree (Except the Biased Broadcasting Corporation), that 80% of law is enacted from Brussels, why do we need 650 members of parliament? Could we not dispense with 80% of them? (Ooodles of money to be saved there. Especially the expenses).
- Repeal the hunting ban? Ok. But what about the smoking ban which affects far more of the populace? I’m only asking for an amendment to allow freedom of choice to have smoking and non smoking bars in Pubs. Not too much to ask is it?
- Minimum price for alcohol? Tesco’s will love that. Loadsamoney to be made there. (Oh and one thing Dave. You may find that you could just fall foul of the EU on that one. You know, those people mentioned in a paragraph above). Do keep up.
- Climate change. I think that you’re way behind times on that one. Even the Royal Society has changed it’s position on that
hotlukewarm chestnut. See here for FE’s primer on the subject.
- Bonfire of the Quangos? Don’t make me larf. About the size of one of those once only barbecues you can buy in a petrol station, more like.
Well I’ve got to go now as I need to write a nice letter to that friend of yours, Cleggy.
Saturday, 16 October 2010
The law of unintended consequences by an organisation that is funded by the taxpayer. Sanctimonious shits.
Yes I know the vid is sponsored by BAT. But this is not a false scenario. It is happening now.
Ash. You have the right of reply, but as I suspect, you don’t care as long as you are raking in the taxpayers money to fund your lifestyles.
I hate them.
Myself and Mrs FE having been trying to get the eldest daughter and her Fiancée's feet, on the housing ladder.
Well they approached a well known high street bank for a mortgage and were assured that a mortgage was just about guaranteed. But with strings. In order that they would be granted the mortgage I would be required to lodge a substantial amount of dosh in one of the banks deposit accounts for 36 months.
Now of course the bank had to have the property valued to assess the worth of the property, against the 90% they were willing to lend.
Because of the delay another buyer jumped in with a higher offer. Well the daughter put in a higher offer, not vastly higher than her original bid, but higher than the other bidder.
Job done you say.
Now the bank wouldn’t lend for the extra price. Apart from the fact that it took weeks to come to the decision, they’d been sitting on my money in one of their holding accounts all that time.
It looks like the problem is maybe resolved as I’ve informed them that I’ll add another substantial amount to the deposit and the bank has agreed in principal. I’m not holding my breath though, as all the way through there has been other issues which I can only put down to sheer incompetence.
Hopefully exchange of contracts will be Tuesday.
Oh and if I was to see a prancing black horse in the high street, I’d shoot it.
Sometime I’ll do a post about when I helped out on a forum to assist those who had their lives ruined by bank charges. I’ve never seen so many ruined lives as then.
The main problem posed when answering nature's call is which urinal to use. Many urinals are a line of porcelain or stainless steel bowls, hooked halfway up the wall for ergonomic ease.
If you find yourself lucky enough to enter an empty toilet you have nothing to worry about and can go about your business stress free; however, when other men are already using the facilities a problem soon arises. The first rule of thumb is to always leave at least one urinal empty between yourself and other users, remembering of course that the bowl near the door should always be the last option in this circumstance. If there is somebody occupying every second bowl and only ones in the middle of people are available, take a quick note of which man looks biggest and baldest - avoid at all costs. If, while in the middle of business a place becomes vacant, do not move away to it as this may cause offence to other users. Some toilets have small partitions between each urinal to make things less uncomfortable but as these are a luxury they should never be expected.
Some other places, however, prefer the design whereby a long and narrow gutter or trough runs along the ground while the men utilising it stand on a stainless-steel or tiled step. This system means that there are no predefined spaces for people to stand at and the user is required to estimate. Though partitions are known to exist in this design, they are even rarer than in the former one. Once again, an empty room gives a user free range: often the best place to stand is at the end, meaning that the next person can stand at the other end and subsequent patrons can congregate in the middle, spaced apart. However, when kicking-out time occurs it is often the case that people literally shove themselves into a small space between two other men to relieve themselves. Unless one is desperate this is always a bad choice, but if it is necessary, once again it must be stressed to avoid anyone who looks particularly thuggish.
Both designs have cleaning methods involving water rushing down the back panel. This can be done in a number of ways: old designs release water constantly; whereas more modern installments do this at timed intervals; impressive fittings have a button that can be pressed after each use to clean the panel and the latest technology offers a system whereby a sensor flushes the panel once a person has walked away from the urinal. Blockages can cause the cleaning system to become clogged up and water to overflow; cigarette butts or toilet paper commonly block the pathway.
With either style, though particularly the second, one must always remember to adopt a mindset not unlike that of a golfer: keep your head down and your eyes focussed - try not to veer off to the side.
The other choice is using a stall. This option may be preferred by those with stage fright as it provides a barrier from other people and saves embarrassment - though don't expect the lock on the inside of the door to actually work. However, as these facilities are often used for more than just urination, it is not uncommon to find a toilet in a stall containing what is referred to, rather charmingly, as a 'floater', if it is not, then it most certainly will be very smelly and possibly stained too. As no other people are, or at least should be, in this small toilet haven, there are no real rules of etiquette other than to flush - not that this is regularly observed. Try not to take very long, either; this is no time to finish the last few pages of a gripping novel. Toilet paper should be viewed as a luxury but if it is there, it is often placed sideways to avoid the 'over or under' debate.
Don’t forget, the end of an evening can often see the toilet mobbed with men trying to make their long, sobering walk home more comfortable, so stalls often seem like an ideal haven when the urinals are overflowing with people and thus there can be queues to use these: get in early to avoid waiting around and possible kidney injury.
Friday, 15 October 2010
They really can’t stop with their hectoring. Not content with their assault on the smoker with the crap pedalled about 2nd hand smoke damaging innocent bystanders. Now Ash America is trying to re-instate the myth of “third hand smoke”.
Parents who do not smoke in the presence of their children, including even those who smoke only outdoors, nevertheless put their children at serious risk of "massive damage" to both skin and nerve cells, according to a new study, notes ASH.
Now I’ve got three grown up kids and I haven’t seen people in the streets running and screaming away from them due to the hideous disfigurement I have inflicted on the Cheeeeldren.
What is it with these new puritans?
Using radioactive (Note 1) nicotine as a marker, German scientists showed that the neurotoxin nicotine is not only released from a parent's clothing by perspiration so that it can be detected in all the layers of a babies' skin, but that it is also transported through the child's skin into deeper tissue layers.
They also demonstrated that the toxins from the smoke that were dissolved in the perspiration caused massive damage to children's skin cells -- this included changes in shape and even death to some cells. Also, nerve cells -- which are particularly active and developing in young children -- demonstrated major changes, and were no longer able to connect properly with one another.
I’m certainly not going to emigrate to the good old U S of A. They’re more draconian than the UK.
Already, judges is most of the states have issued orders prohibiting smoking around children involved in custody disputes, about a dozen states have banned smoking in cars or homes when foster children are present, and a small but growing number of states ban smoking in cars -- all to protect the health of children put at risk by secondhand tobacco smoke.
Now all of these protections may have to be expended to include the risks caused by thirdhand tobacco smoke as well as secondhand tobacco smoke, suggests Banzhaf, whose legal actions have been in the forefront of the movement to protect children from the risks of their parents' smoking.
I wonder when the coagulation will get around to it over here.
H/T to Grandad. Or not, as my blood pressure has just shot up. Oh well. A large whisky and a cigarette should fix that.
Note 1. Are they sure they didn’t irradiate the kids with a lethal dose of pollonium?
Just letting you know your phone number will appear on FB unless you delete it.
Here’s what to do.
Go to the top right of your screen,
click Account then Edit Friends.
Go to the left side of your screen and
Everyone's phone numbers are now being published.
Don’t forget to disable this feature on your phone
Public toilets are of course part and parcel of everyday life. It is useful, however, to know exactly what it is you are looking for in any given country.
In some cases it is easy - for example, most English speaking countries refer to the toilet as a toilet. There is of course the notable exception of America, where it may be referred to as "the bathroom", "the restroom" or in some cases by its name, John1.
In France, do not ask for le cabinet de toilette as you are likely to be shown to the airing cupboard - it is better to ask for les toilettes in polite company, and if you are really desperate le pissoir. At least your hosts will know what you mean, even if they are embarrassed.
In England, you can ask for 'the bog' if you are in a pub, 'the little boy's room' or 'the girl's room' if you are in prudishly polite company, or 'the loo' - but 'where is the toilet?' will get you where you need to go (if you'll excuse the pun).
There is of course an etiquette to using a public toilet. Firstly you enter the convenience and glance around. If you see members of the opposite sex, it is likely that you are in the wrong place - pop outside and check the sign on the door. If you are relatively certain that you are in the correct place (and one can never be too sure) approach the proper area. Do not under any circumstances make eye contact with any other patron - no-one else wants to know that you are there.
Speech in men's toilets is only allowed if it is the comment variety. 'Ooooooh damn I needed that' and 'For this relief, much thanks' are acceptable. 'Who butchered a pig in here?' is not. In ladies' toilets discussion of make-up and boyfriends is mandatory, which is why ladies always travel to the toilet in pairs.
After relieving yourself, approach the basins and wash your hands - this is a ritual only, as the vast majority of people who use public toilets don't wash their hands, and when you push the door open you will inevitably load your hands with more germs than you washed off.
Before leaving the toilet, perform these simple checks:
- If you are wearing trousers, ensure that your fly is fastened.
- For anyone wearing a skirt, make sure it isn't tucked into your knickers.
- Check that there is no toilet paper adhering to your shoes.
1 It is not known why all American toilets are named John - it can only be assumed that there was an overzealous, if somewhat unimaginative, plumber who applied the name in the first place.
Thursday, 14 October 2010
I’ve just been doing a bit of digging and presume this is the tosspottery that made her life hell.
Here’s her article.
Now before you nutters flock to my comments, I will state that I abhor paedophiles.
Come on, the comments are open.
The Hollie Grieg site is here
Put your money where your big mouths are. Give me facts not innuendo. Show me your sources.
You have forced a blogger with the highest integrity to quit. Makes you proud? No I don’t think so.
And they should know.
“We used to instinctively react against the state’s incursions into our freedom, into our free space. And what the last government did was – very cunning and surreptitious – to bit by bit slice off our freedoms,”
From Russia Today. You never get this reported by
Pravda the BBC.
Update: The vid doesn’t work after publishing. The link should get you to it.
A teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class.
She came to the part of the story where first pig was trying to gather the building materials for his home.
She read. 'And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said: 'Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'
The teacher paused then asked the class: 'And what do you think the man said?'
One little boy raised his hand and said very matter-of-factly...
'I think the man would have said - 'Well, F*** Me!! A talking pig!'
The teacher had to leave the room.
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
You know those supposedly disgusting pictures on cigarette packets that proclaim my imminent
despise demise. (See above).
Who pays for them? Is it the Tobacco companies or we, the tax payer? If it’s us, I want my money back as I never even look at them. Bloody piss poor advertising if you ask me.
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Anna Raccoon, the blogger that did the most to free Nick Hogan from prison and Sheila Martin from a £2,500 pound for dropping cigarette ash, has disappeared from the Blogosphere. not only has her Blog gone but also her facebook page.
Alright maybe I’m being paranoid about this. But why would she expunge her online identity in this way.
Has she been threatened or has she hung up her blogging and decided to go for the quiet life?
UPDATE: From a source I’m informed that she has retired from blogging. Reasons unknown.
Stripsidebob on blogging
I think Marr is right to say blogs, or even comments sections on newspapers websites (like this one, very much like this one), are mostly filled with unpleasantness, vitriol, anger, abuse, and downright nastiness.
Listen up kids...here's how you can be radical. Try being nice to one another, consider the topic in hand, try and have a relevant point to make, and think before you press send on the latest bile you've just shat out.
You can fuck right off. There that’s off my chest now.
Back to the Blog.
This article says it all about women and their unwitting weapon in the fight against the male sex.
Throughout Britain's streets a dangerous weapon is on the rise. Both the trafficking and the ownership of the weapon remain legal – and, protected by the law, its users show little or no remorse for the harm they inflict. I hereby call on the Government to take urgent action against this menace. As the weeks go by, it will only become more widespread.
And if you’re a man.
I'm aware, incidentally, that there exist some male pedestrians who carry xxxxxxxxs. These creatures are not men in any true sense and should be looked upon with suspicion.
Have a guess at what the womens’ weapon of choice is?
Monday, 11 October 2010
A nun walks into Mother Superior's office and plunks down into a chair. She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration.
'What troubles you, Sister?' asked the Mother Superior.. 'I thought this was the day you spent with your family.'
'It was,' sighed the Sister. 'And I went to play golf with my brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You know I was quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ.'
'I seem to recall that,' the Mother Superior agreed. 'So I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?’
'Far from it,' snorted the Sister. 'In fact, I even took the Lord's name in vain today!'
'Goodness, Sister!' gasped the Mother Superior, astonished. 'You must tell me all about it!'
'Well, we were on the fifth tee...and this hole is a monster, Mother -540 yard Par 5, with a nasty dogleg left and a hidden green...and I hit the drive of my life. I creamed it. The sweetest swing I ever made.
And it's flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted...and it hits a bird in mid-flight !'
'Oh my!' commiserated the Mother. 'How unfortunate! But surely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!'
'No, that wasn't it,' admitted Sister. 'While I was still trying to fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of the woods, grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!'
'Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!' sympathized the Mother..
'But I didn't, Mother!' sobbed the Sister. 'And I was so proud of myself! And while I was pondering whether this was a sign from God, this hawk swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his paws!'
'So that's when you cursed,' said the Mother with a knowing smile.
'Nope, that wasn't it either,' cried the Sister, anguished, 'because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green, and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches from the cup!'
Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her chest, fixed the Sister with a baleful stare and said...
'You missed the f---ing putt, didn't you?'
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Right. This morning I decided to help those folks out with their Global warming malarkey.
- Central Heating on and set to 25 deg Check
- Windows open Check
- Oven on, and door open Check
- Fire lit Check
- Car started and left running Check
- 300w security lights on Check
- Immersion heater on and bath left running with plug out Check
- Shower on Check
- Mower running and left tethered to run in a circle. (Note to self.Remember to top up fuel tank) Check
- All lights on Check
There you are 10:10. Ten items to increase my global warming signature.
What’s that you say? I’m supposed to cut my carbon footprint? Oh dear, I must have misheard you. Ok I’ll leave the TV on standby then, and not watch it. And bye the way, my electricity meter caught fire due to the speed it was turning and the house burnt down. A bit of smoke never harmed anyone.
And the crash of that airbus 380 can’t be pinned on me for burning oily rags on the open fire. Can it? I admit that the visibility was a bit limited, but really just because the buggers circle over my house before landing at Gatwick can’t be my fault surely.
I’ll get it right next year. (Promise)
*Fingers crossed behind my back*
I wrote about Sheila Martin a while back.
She was the lady who was being prosecuted for dropping fag ash on the pavement. Sheila was facing a court fine of £2,500 for non payment of the penalty notice.
Well thanks to the Raccoon and her local paper, Sandwell Council have dropped the case as not being in the public interest.
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Why is it that those of us who have a healthy desire to see an honest debate on climate change meet with so much hostility?
Why is it taken to be proven that man is to blame for Global cooling/Global warming/Global climate disruption, etc, etc, by some computer models, when those models don’t agree with the observations?
Why do I get vilified by anonymous commenter's when I point out facts that I’ve gleaned from governments and renewable energy consortia, outlining the uncertainties and costs of these forms of energy? Is it because those commenter's have been so brainwashed that they are afraid, no, terrified, that they might have been hoodwinked into believing a lie?
I have three children and certainly don’t wish them a bad future. So all of you Anons out there. Why am I sceptical of the science?
Because I’m an engineer. No I'm not a scientist. However engineers have to think in an analytical manner otherwise nothing would work as it should. I had the laws of thermodynamics drummed into me from an early age and therefore know all about radiation, convection, and heat transfer.
Most of the comments I receive usually contain “Don’t you know the science is settled?” or “All the scientists agree”.
Well then, all you Anons. Prove it to me with verifiable facts. And no, I don’t mean copies of Al Gore’s “An inconvenient truth”, or the Hockey stick graph. They would cause me to slash my wrists in frustration.
And if you dare cite the myth of the dying polar bears…….
That’s me for now Oh righteous ones. I’m going to do something truly despicable to you.
I’m going to smoke a cigarette.
That most insidious form of psychosis which can cause a normally rational person to miss a train and/or miss their station.
It works under the following conditions:
A rational person goes to station with the aim of catching a train to some exotic destination.
They will sit on a bench, and remove some items from a pouch or a briefcase or a handbag such as a paper, a book, food or a personal stereo.
They will then busy themselves with the objects until the train arrives, whereupon they will quickly pack up their things and go to get on the train.
It is at this point when Train Station Psychosis (TSP) kicks in. After having found themselves a seat, the traveller will become convinced that they have left something on the platform and will rush out of the train. The doors will close and the train will go without them, leaving them stranded on the platform, a victim of Train Station Psychosis.
This can also work in reverse: a train draws into a station and a person about to disembark is called back by TSP with the lure of some forgotten item. The train leaves the station and the person will be stuck on board.
It is widely believed that rail companies created TSP in an attempt to increase revenue gained from fines for 'travelling without a sufficient ticket'.
I find it interesting that people who disagree with a Blog post of mine, are invariably Anonymous. And more often than not, have Grammar and spelling that makes mine look like the writings of Shakespeare.
My translation attempt at the above.
Council exchange *unintelligible* – I have a council stuido flat in Wallisdown own kitchen own bathroom intocom system on ground floor *unintelligible* quiet block of four *unintelligible* quiet astate pets allowed with permisson A big commual garden all fenced off If anyone would be intrested in swapping with me chan call on *number removed* I am looking to swap to Winton on Moondown on surrounding arears
Makes you wonder.
Friday, 8 October 2010
Do Not Leave Unattended Luggage
Imagine you're travelling via British Rail to reach some
You've left your suitcase/holdall/internal frame backpack in the luggage rack at the end of the carriage where you would imagine it to be safe – that is, until you hear an 'important announcement':
Please do not leave unattended luggage anywhere on the train. Any unattended items may be removed without warning.
Without too much thought, you head down to the end of the carriage to attend to your bag. It's still there, but it's not doing anything particularly interesting, and you begin to wonder what all the fuss is about. Then you realise what the message actually meant: you must not leave unattended luggage. As you're standing there, your bag is by no means unattended. You are fully free to leave it, and do so immediately.
On the way back to your seat, however, you notice that someone has left their bag entirely on its own. You must not leave unattended luggage, so you stand next to it awaiting the owner's return. Unfortunately, the train reaches your stop before anyone comes to claim it. You panic about leaving the bag, but recall that 'unattended items may be removed without warning'. It's clear that you have no choice, so you take it with you as you head to pick up your own luggage. Fortunately enough, the police come round your house a week later to reclaim the unattended bag. However, some great misunderstanding ensues and you end up having to explain the above to an unsympathetic jury.
If only they'd had an announcement telling the bag's owner not to leave their luggage unattended.
1 This does seem rather unlikely, but we did say 'imagine'.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
In previous posts I iterated that the costs of Operation and maintenance was at best understated, if not unknown.
However another item of the structure of wind farms is of concern as well.
I.E. Once you’ve produced all that power from the infernal bird mincers, you’ve then got to transmit it ashore and into the grid.
Cables may serve as an offshore wind farm’s umbilical cord but it doesn’t take much neglect, inexperience, substandard planning or lack of resources to suddenly transform them into cost-sapping Achilles heels.
There are three main problems to contend with.
These include breaks “caused by vessel movements and inexperienced crew”; cable loops “due to vessel movements, lack of control or bad equipment and software”; and cables being cut short “due to people not using the right measurement techniques and methodology to install the second end – when you get to the second end you should know how much to the meter is required”.
And on the maintenance of this cable.
“If you have a damaged export cable and you don’t have a maintenance model in place – what are the vessels that are going to repair it, is there spare cable around, do you have jointing expert available – if that hasn’t been worked out you could be down for months,”
Experienced Engineers are numerous it would seem.
But while technological necessity, planning and implementation methodologies and industrial up-scaling will inevitably evoke all manner of capital complexities, the real issue is likely to be people. Or rather the distinct lack of them.
Bit of a muddle really.
Wednesday, 6 October 2010
I liked this from Vox populi.
I had previously preferred the term “global warming fascists”, but the term simply doesn’t do justice to these twisted, human-hating ideologues. It appears we may end up eventually having to go to war with the sick bastards should they take over a country or two just like we did with their German predecessors; as with the National Socialists, the global warming extremists genuinely believe that their mad pseudo-scientific myths justify killing people.
Fortunately, given that their tanks will be solar-powered and their cruise missiles will be launched by turbine windmills, it should take a lot less than five years to defeat them…
Not if your a smoker.
Dr Tony Jewell, chief medical officer for Wales, said that stopping people lighting up in their own homes would protect their children from the dangers of passive smoking.
'It could be seen as the final piece of the protection picture or at least adding to the growing public consensus on the social acceptability of smoking.'
I suspect they will do one of those surveys in Wales in the near future. One of those that is phrased like this.
“Should smoking be banned in homes for the sake of the cheeeldren?”
Of course they’ll get an 80% yes vote for that.
So then they’ll produce a law which they won’t have a hope in hell of enforcing.
I don’t live in Wales but if I did I’d just love a state sponsored, No smoking enforcement officer, to just try it on. It is my property and it is nothing to do with the state with what I do within it within reason. (Obviously murder is slightly over the top).
What has become of this country?
I need to sit down in a darkened room.
With a cigarette.
Thanks to the Angry Exile for this
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
A blood-filled short film scripted by leading British comedy screenwriter on behalf of the 10:10 environmental campaign has sparked outrage.
I would expect that means that the outrage really has reached a global audience.
If you haven’t seen it, Piers Corbyn comments.
Here’s the original
I’ve had another look at the sponsors on the 10:10 website and came upon this organisation.
The Funding Network. The opening sentence on the page of “Who We Are”, gave me cause for thought.
A loose affiliation of individuals, from a variety of backgrounds, but with a common purpose, to join with others in using our material prosperity to fund social change causes. (Emphasis mine).
*Retrieves Tin foil hat from cupboard*
*Packs hat away for another day*
I wonder if this group will disassociate from 10:10.
OK it’s only on Fox news.
It would seem that one of 10:10 sponsors is not too happy either. Read the letter HERE.
And another one bails out as well. From 350.org.
We respect 10:10's previous work to encourage companies, schools, and churches to voluntarily cut their carbon emissions 10%. Upon seeing the video, however, we have informed 10:10 that we can no longer remain partners on 10/10/10 or any other initiative.
Monday, 4 October 2010
All this green energy is going to cost you even more than you thought..
Households will have to pay an extra £60 in bills to cover the cost of connecting windfarms and other renewable energy sources to the National Grid, the industry regulator warned today.
Energy bills will almost certainly have to increase to make Britain's ageing national electricity and gas networks “fit for purpose” in the era of climate change, according to Ofgem.
Now of course with those pesky wind farm not delivering a steady output (If any output at all), we will have to build a smart grid to match.
It says about £32 billion needs to be spent on modernising the networks over the next decade, more than twice the amount invested in the past 20 years.
And don’t forget the increased maintenance cost of all these new power lines in out of the way, exposed places.
*No exploding school children were used in the drafting of this post*
Sunday, 3 October 2010
The staple food of many students, Pot Noodles, is proving to be a mainstay of the recession.
I’m obviously not doing my bit for the economy as I can’t stand the things.
Unilever spokesman Tom Denyard said Pot Noodle sales were an indicator of consumer confidence.
No Tom. I think I’d rather trust the FTSE if you don’t mind.
Friday, 1 October 2010
We missed the mark with today's 'No Pressure' video, and have removed it from our website
1 Oct 10
Today we put up a mini-movie about 10:10 and climate change called 'No Pressure’.
With climate change becoming increasingly threatening, and decreasingly talked about in the media, we wanted to find a way to bring this critical issue back into the headlines whilst making people laugh. We were therefore delighted when Britain's leading comedy writer, Richard Curtis - writer of Blackadder, Four Weddings, Notting Hill and many others – agreed to write a short film for the 10:10 campaign. Many people found the resulting film extremely funny, but unfortunately some didn't and we sincerely apologise to anybody we have offended.
As a result of these concerns we've taken it off our website. We won't be making any attempt to censor or remove other versions currently in circulation on the internet.
We'd like to thank the 50+ film professionals and 40+ actors and extras and who gave their time and equipment to the film for free. We greatly value your contributions and the tremendous enthusiasm and professionalism you brought to the project.
At 10:10 we're all about trying new and creative ways of getting people to take action on climate change. Unfortunately in this instance we missed the mark. Oh well, we live and learn.
Onwards and upwards,
Eugenie, Franny, Lizzie and the whole 10:10 team
Looks to me like they’re not that apologetic.
And I can guess that they come from the Notting Hill set. Judging by their names. (I may be wrong)
If you haven’t seen the video it can be found HERE