A number of UK banks have banded together to express their gratitude to the British people for helping them out in their time of need.
They have commissioned a limited edition commemorative pencil sharpener which will be offered to selected customers in gratitude for the billions of pounds profit they got out of us last year. It's designed to remind us of the friendly and, even intimate relationship the banks have built up with the British public.
Now you may have read this before, but I thought I’d reproduce it anyway.
Helga is the proprietor of a bar.
She realizes that virtually all of her customers are unemployed alcoholics and, as such, can no longer afford to patronize her bar. To solve this problem she comes up with a new marketing plan that allows her customers to drink now, but pay later.
Helga keeps track of the drinks consumed on a ledger (thereby granting the customers' loans).
Word gets around about Helga's "drink now, pay later" marketing strategy and, as a result, increasing numbers of customers flood into Helga's bar.
Soon she has the largest sales volume for any bar in town.
By providing her customers freedom from immediate payment demands Helga gets no resistance when, at regular intervals, she substantially increases her prices for wine and beer - the most consumed beverages.Consequently, Helga's gross sales volumes and paper profits increase massively. A young and dynamic vice-president at the local bank recognises that these customer debts constitute valuable future assets and increases Helga's borrowing limit. He sees no reason for any undue concern, since he has the debts of the unemployed alcoholics as collateral.
He is rewarded with a six figure bonus.At the bank's corporate headquarters, expert traders figure a way to make huge commissions, and transform these customer loans into DRINKBONDS. These "securities" are then bundled and traded on international securities markets.
Naive investors don't really understand that the securities being sold to them as "AA Secured Bonds" are really debts of unemployed alcoholics.
Nevertheless, the bond prices continuously climb and the securities soon become the hottest-selling items for some of the nation's leading brokerage houses.
The traders all receive a six figure bonus.One day, even though the bond prices are still climbing, a risk manager at the original local bank decides that the time has come to demand payment on the debts incurred by the drinkers at Helga's bar. He so informs Helga.
Helga then demands payment from her alcoholic patrons but, being unemployed alcoholics, they cannot pay back their drinking debts. Since Helga cannot fulfil her loan obligations she is forced into bankruptcy. The bar closes and Helga's 11 employees lose their jobs.Overnight, DRINKBOND prices drop by 90%. The collapsed bond asset value destroys the bank's liquidity and prevents it from issuing new loans, thus freezing credit and economic activity in the community.
The suppliers of Helga's bar had granted her generous payment extensions and had invested their firms' pension funds in the BOND securities. They find they are now faced with having to write off her bad debt and with losing over 90% of the presumed value of the bonds. Her wine supplier also claims bankruptcy, closing the doors on a family business that had endured for three generations; her beer supplier is taken over by a competitor, who immediately closes the local plant and lays off 150 workers.
Fortunately though, the bank, the brokerage houses and their respective executives are saved and bailed out by a multibillion dollar no-strings attached cash infusion from the government.
They all receive a six figure bonus.
The funds required for this bailout are obtained by new taxes levied on employed, middle-class, non-drinkers who've never been in Helga's bar.
And there we have it in it’s simplified form.
Not content with his last offering of utter crap in his film, Gasland, he’s now produced another hysterical film about the evils of Fracking for gas. In this latest nonsense he manages to include just about every emotive issue that you can think of to justify his hate of a cheap form of energy. He starts with smoking for Christ’s sake, and then manages to slip in Breast cancer, “Think of the Cheeldren”, Asthma, and even 9/11.
However what he seems determined to ignore is that his last film has been thoroughly debunked as nothing more than green paranoia against cheap energy rather than expensive green energy.
For instance the breast cancer link is thoroughly debunked by AP after a little research.
When the AP asked Fox for evidence of the spike in breast cancer, he cited a press release that “doesn’t support his claim,” according to the AP, as well as a newspaper report, which an epidemiologist says is “not based on a careful statistical analysis of the data.” Oof!
The AP also told Fox that cancer researchers say breast cancer rates didn’t increase, contrary to his statements. Fox then began to backtrack, resting on a claim that the rate increase was “widely reported” (as if that means anything) and that the issue needs “much deeper study.”
Here’s the debunking of his Asthma claim.
But according to the Texas Department of State Health Services (DSHS), the two regions that cover the Dallas-Fort Worth Area (DSHS Region 2 and 3) actually have childhood asthma rates that are below both the statewide average and the nationwide average.
It’s no wonder that people are turned off science. It’s about time that people woke up to the fact that they are being conned by a small minority that want to take us back to the dark ages.
Special edition out today. Only available for two weeks.
Special offer if you buy today. £9 billion.
Green is most definitely the new religion if this shower of loons is anything to go by.
http://www.fastfortheearth.com/
The Fast for the Earth is both a nonviolent protest against wanton disregard for the natural world and a spiritual affirmation that all of us are part of that world, responsible for its careful tending. It has been organized by people of good will who live in South Dakota, USA.
And of course their Messiah entreats them with the following.
"Scientists tell us that from this point on, each degree increase in global average temperature should cut grain yields 10%. Food is not only necessary, it's one of the planet's great blessings, to be shared in communion with each other. But on this occasion it's good, for a day or two, to taste a little of the hunger so many will have to endure if we don't make change fast." -- Bill McKibben, 350.org, 2012.
And your mission is, if you are willing to accept it.
Our goal is to have at least one person or group somewhere in the world fasting for the Earth every single day, until the Earth is once again treated with respect.
On that note. I’m off for a burger cooked over an extremely polluting barbecue. I will think of you.
Hahahahahahahahahahahah.
Captain Haddock, a regular commentator on this blog has passed away.
May your Rum barrel always be full Captain.
Donna Laframboise is a journalist who has spent much of her time in research into debunking the theory of AGW. The video below is part of her tour in Oz explaining why she thinks the IPCC is not fit for purpose.
She shows how the final assessment reports were mainly compiled by a mix of green advocates and poorly qualified lead assessors.
If you would like to read her excellent book,
Well worth a read.
And No. I’m not her agent.
What do you think? Personally I’m pissed off with the onslaught of “You will enjoy the Olympics or else”. And as usual the BBC coverage is the most fawning and nauseous. Last night’s news was obviously setting the way for hours of coverage of this expensive wankfest.
or
It’s that time of year, isn’t it?
H/T to Skip Licker
I would like to share an experience with you about drinking and driving,
and you should all take heed.
As you well know, some of us have been known to have had brushes with the authorities on our way home from the odd social session over the years.
A couple of nights ago, I was out for a few drinks with some friends at a local pub and had a few too many G & Ts and some rather nice red wine.
Knowing full well I may have been slightly over the limit, I did
something I've never done before: I took a bus home. Sure enough I
passed a police road block but as it was a bus, they waved it past.
I arrived home safely without incident, which was a real surprise, as I
have never driven a bus before and am not sure where I got it from.
If you smoke and are fed up with the lies and false statistics made up by the fanatics who inhabit the Tobacco Control Industry, there is help at hand. Tobacco Control have set up a Wiki called Tobacco Tactics. To that end a counter Wiki has been set up to refute the badly researched propaganda that is prevalent in the tobacco control Wiki.
I give you:
The Tobacco Control Tactics Wiki.
I would like to point out to my non smoking readers that the template used by Tobacco control is being eagerly viewed by other prohibitionists to enhance their particular goals.
Alcohol (Minimum pricing, graphic labels)
Like a fried breakfast (Sorry it’ll be a Tofu sandwich for you).
Salt. (How dare you like to add taste to your food. Not withstanding that you need a balanced salt diet to live).
They’re all in the firing line now. You have been warned. You never stuck up for the smokers so you’re on your own now.
Starting in 1941, an increasing number of British Airmen found themselves as the involuntary guests of the Third Reich, and the Crown was casting about for ways and means to facilitate their escape. Now obviously, one of the most helpful aids to that end is a useful and accurate map, one showing not only where stuff was, but also showing the locations of 'safe houses' where a POW on-the-run could go for food and shelter.
Paper maps had some real drawbacks -- they make a lot of noise when you open and fold them, they wear out rapidly, and if they get wet, they turn into mush.
Someone in MI-5 got the idea of printing escape maps on silk. It's durable, can be scrunched-up into tiny wads, and unfolded as many times as needed, and makes no noise whatsoever. At that time, there was only one manufacturer in Great Britain that had perfected the technology of printing on silk, and that was John Waddington, Ltd. When approached by the government, the firm was only too happy to do its bit for the war effort.
By pure coincidence, Waddington was also the U.K. Licensee for the popular American board game, Monopoly. As it happened, 'games and pastimes' was a category of item qualified for insertion into 'CARE packages', dispatched by the International Red Cross to prisoners of war.
Under the strictest of secrecy, in a securely guarded and inaccessible old workshop on the grounds of Waddington's, a group of sworn-to-secrecy employees began mass producing escape maps, keyed to each region of Germany or Italy where Allied POW camps were regional system)..
When processed, these maps could be folded into such tiny dots that they would actually fit inside a Monopoly playing piece. As long as they were at it, the clever workmen at Waddington's also managed to add:
1. A playing token, containing a small magnetic compass
2. A two-part metal file that could easily be screwed together
3. Useful amounts of genuine high-denomination German, Italian, and French currency, hidden within the piles of Monopoly money!
British and American air crews were advised, before taking off on their first mission, how to identify a 'rigged' Monopoly set -- by means
of a tiny red dot, one cleverly rigged to look like an ordinary printing glitch, located in the corner of the Free Parking square.
Of the estimated 35,000 Allied POWS who successfully escaped, an estimated one-third were aided in their flight by the rigged Monopoly
sets... Everyone who did so was sworn to secrecy Indefinitely, since the British Government might want to use this highly successful ruse in still another, future war. The story wasn't declassified until 2007, when the surviving craftsmen from Waddington's, as well as the firm itself, were finally honoured in a public ceremony.
It's always nice when you can play that 'Get Out of Jail' Free card!
Continuing on from my last post about myself and Mrs FE’s trip to Madrid, I thought I’d just touch on a couple of topics close to my heart.
Everywhere as always in countries with a warmer clime, there are open air pavement bars. Usually in the limited space they can occupy, the tables are placed as close together as possible for obvious reasons. Now Mrs FE and myself spent a fair amount of times in these bars in order to heed the Chief Medical Officer’s advice to ensure our fluid intake was commensurate with the climate. To our surprise we found that in many of the bars, the price of a small beer could be as low as 1 Euro. (Before you call me a woos for imbibing small beers, the logic is that if you order a large beer it ends up warm before you’re finished. Better two small cold ones rather than one warm one).
Smoking was never a problem even in close proximity of the other tables. In Spain they don’t seem to have been brainwashed by the anti-smoking brigade that you find in the UK. They just accept that some people smoke and some people don’t. It used to be like that in the UK before 2007. One problem I did find was where to buy cigarettes? Outlets were almost non existent, however if you are a local you’d know where it was, so no problem. In fact when I did find one, it was refreshingly like the old tobacconist of yore in the UK.
The demonstrations. We finally worked out why they were targeted in our street. Silly really. The Spanish Parliament building was across the road about 50 metres away!
And finally. The hotel bar. Mrs FE suggested we have a night cap or two in the bar when we got back from our meanderings late on the first night. I should have smelt a rat when we were given our own personal waitress to service our needs. Without looking at the price list I ordered a large whisky for me and a large G & T for Mrs FE. I will admit that they were super large. (My throat nearly burned out with the first swig, forcing me to disappear out for a remedial cigarette). The mistake of course was that we didn’t quit and gone to our room. Oh no we repeated the order.
Eventually after Mrs FE has finished her final drink, she decided to call it a night and head for the room, leaving yours truly to pay the bill.
Cheap at half the price? You must be F*****g joking! 82 sodding Euros.
I do think that we were lucky to leave when we did, as the situation that is not being reported in the UK MSM, is getting quite dangerous.
Would I go back? Assuredly yes.
Mrs FE and myself touched down safely in Madrid early on Monday morning. having looked at all the options of getting to our hotel (Westin Palace), we decided to catch a ride on the Metro. On emerging from the final stop with blinking eyes from the bright sunlight we were met with a strange but worrying sight. There were Police and Police vans everywhere you looked. (In the UK you are lucky to see one let alone hundreds). After a few seconds we realised why. There were thousands of Spaniards coming down the road behind us. At first I thought that somehow my Spanish readers had got word of my trip and were coming to meet me. However one look at the signs they were carrying made me think that a lynching of this blogger might be their real aim. The placards all had one word on them. NO.
Anyhow Mrs FE and myself, decided we’d best scuttle off (Best describes the action of a person with a small wheelie case) in the direction of our hotel. Worryingly it soon became apparent that where we went, the mob seemed to follow. As we approached the road in which our hotel was situated we noticed that the police presence was increasing by leaps and bounds and we redoubled our efforts to obtain sanctuary in our monastery Hotel.
This was not to be. With a baying mob on our heels we arrived at the hotel’s road to be confronted with metal barriers and three lines of police in riot gear blocking the thoroughfare. Ooh err. Unfortunately my Spanish is only good for Hallo (Hola), Two beers please (Dos cervesa pour favor), and thankyou (Gracias), so needless to say the police didn’t want to lets us through. (Did they think we were some activist fifth column? You tell me?).
Of course Mrs FE, being fairly organised, managed to produce from her Portmanteau handbag, a map of the area, and we found a back route which would take us to the entrance of the hotel. Luck was now on our side as the back was only lightly defended by the police and we managed to blag our way through the barricades and finally checked into the hotel.
After we checked in we nipped outside to see what was going on. The demonstrators were doing their best to pull down the barriers but were dissuaded from doing so by the occasional baton strike from the odd annoyed member of the Policia.
Anyway we got bored with this and decided to head of into various areas to see what the city was like.
One thing we never found out that day was why had that street been targeted?
Do you want to know why? Do you want to know what happened on day two?
You tell me, and I’ll tell you the cost of cigarettes and how much, two gin and tonics and two large whiskeys cost me in the hotel bar.
Your Blog host and Mrs FE are off to the sun at O’crack sparrowfart tomorrow morning, so posting will be light to non existent for a few days. (I’m sure the readers of this blog will find that they can live a useful existence with out resorting to reading my usual drivel).
The reason we’re off to Madrid is that it’s been organised by my Son in Law and my Daughter, in thanks for the organisation of their wedding last week.
We’re being treated to a three day break in Madrid and can be expected to immerse ourselves in the culture of that grand old city. However due to the high temperatures at this time of year, we will have to keep hydrated at all times.
I have now downloaded to my phone an App that not only steers me to all the culture you would expect, but more importantly, gives me every bar that exists in the city.
We intend, in the bar breaks, to absorb as much culture as is possible in the time. I’m hoping to see a cultural riot if at all possible, if not it’s going to have to be the Prado museum or some such.
Anyhoo. Don’t expect a blog post till Thursday. Keep yourselves amused in the rain.
A friend just sent me this:
Europe in a "few" words
Pythagoras' theorem - 24 words.
Lord's Prayer - 66 words.
Archimedes' Principle - 67 words.
10 Commandments - 179 words.
Gettysburg address - 286 words.
US Declaration of Independence - 1,300 words.
US Constitution with all 27 Amendments – 7,818 words.
EU regulations on the sale of cabbage – 26,911 words
And I quote:
Standing confidently on the beach, with a rifle casually slung over her shoulder, you would think twice about knocking over this woman’s sandcastle.
The bikini-clad subject is thought to be a soldier and a member of the highly-trained Israeli Defence Forces.
Since the surprising photo, snapped in Tel Aviv, was posted on the internet it has gone viral with many users reacted with shock at seeing such a hostile weapon on a sunny beach.
She’s there to protect the sun loungers from marauding germans.
Much is being made in the MSM today about the complete balls up made by the private contactor’s lack of ability to recruit enough security personnel.
However that is not the purpose of this post. I’d just like to inform my reader about what I think is a more interesting security problem.
Every so often we are regaled with stories about locals not wishing to have missiles situated on their roofs. It’s these systems which in my mind could cause the most problems.
These sophisticated anti air weapons such as
Rapier
Rapier is a British surface-to-air missile developed for the British Army and Royal Air Force. Entering service in 1971, it eventually replaced all other anti-aircraft weapons in Army service; guns for low-altitude targets, and the English Electric Thunderbird[1], used against longer-range and higher-altitude targets. As the expected air threat moved from medium-altitude strategic missions to low-altitude strikes, the fast reaction time and high manoeuvrability of the Rapier made it more formidable than either of these weapons, replacing most of them by 1977. It remains the UK's primary air-defence weapon after almost 35 years of service, and its deployment is expected to continue until 2020
and StarStreak
The Starstreak HVM (High Velocity Missile) is designed to counter threats from very high performance, low-flying aircraft and fast 'pop up' strikes by helicopter attacks.
The missile, which travels at more than three times the speed of sound, uses a system of three dart-like projectiles, allowing multiple hits on the target. HVM can be fired from the shoulder, from a lightweight multiple launcher or from the Stormer armoured vehicle.
Typhoon
Eurofighter Typhoon is the worlds most advanced new generation multi-role/swing-role combat aircraft available on the market.
Wonderful bits of kit I’m sure, but what are they going to be used against and when? Now it’s pretty certain that the terrorists won’t have access to military aircraft, so this is the more likely scenario.
A jumbo jet travelling from Dubai to Gatwick is just crossing the south coast of England. Air traffic control notices that it is heading off course and heading for London. Air traffic control tries to contact the jumbo but no reply is received. So what happens now?
Well. If the chain of command is quickly traversed they could scramble a Typhoon or two from Northolt. However what do they do as the jumbo starts flying over the densely packed outer suburbs of London? By this time word will have been passed to the Rapier and Starstreak batteries that there is a jumbo jet acting suspiciously and to lock on and await further orders. But time is running out fast for a meaningful decision.
And there we are at the crux of the Dilemma. The decision to launch or not.
If you were the man at the top of the pyramid, would you be able to making the decision to shoot down a jumbo jet with a full load of passengers, over one of the most densely populated areas of the country?
Could you, the man with the finger on the trigger, pull that trigger knowing you would be likely to kill hundreds, if not thousands?
That’s why I consider them as window dressing to make the PTB look as if they are being tough.
I’m referring to the group from CACC (campaign against climate change). Look you lot, I signed up to your daily E mail report and haven’t had one for two days now.
I’m really looking forward to participating in your
RACE TO ZERO (CARBON by 2030!)
Organise a “Race to Zero” – with the finishing line at 2030 (as it were). There are lots of different ways to do this – it could be a real race (running, hopping, three-legged, egg-in-spoon etc) perhaps with sponsored participants, with it being as long or short as you like.
Or it could be more of a symbolic race, dress someone up as ‘Climate Apocalypse’ and race against them, or have ‘human wind turbines’ or ‘solar panels’ racing against coal-fired power stations, or oil industry bosses, or prominent skeptics.. The possibilities are endless.
How am I supposed to know what is being organised without regular contact? I intend to have a chat with George (George Monbiot, honorary president. AKA Moonbat), about your lack of zeal in keeping me up to speed.
And while you’re on about it. Can we have a little less “against change”. I would like a little change from torrential rain to a small barbecue summer. (Preferably Saturday). Not much to ask.
Enter your post code and during the advert you'll see (VERY briefly!) the plane taxi down your street
Do not show this to a leftie. He/She will explode.
Alright it’s an american vid but it puts the point across.
PS Here in the garden of England we are just experiencing our third hailstorm of the day.
Whilst at my daughter’s wedding on Saturday I noticed that most of the smokers were in the age group of the under thirties.
So I thought that I’d do an informal survey of why they’d started smoking, whilst they were refreshed with strong drink (All £2,500 of it!).
ALL of them said they’d been curious by what their mates were doing and had cadged a fag off them. Finding they liked the taste, they’d gone onto smoking their own. Usually buying the same brand as their friend.
The next question I asked was have you changed brands? Most replied that they had. When I asked them why, answers were quite often “The shop had run out of my usual brand”. So then I asked the critical question of why they had chosen a particular brand.
There were two main reasons.
Similar price to the ones I usually smoke, and changed to king size for a longer smoke.
Nowhere was there an answer to my questions that intimated that they were enticed to buy cigarettes because of “glitzy” packaging.
SO ASH CAN STUFF THEIR REASONING OF WHY KIDS START SMOKING UP THEIR CRACK PIPE.
HELGA'S CRUISE SHIP DIARY
DEAR DIARY - DAY 1
All packed for the cruise ship -- all my nicest dresses, swimsuits, short sets. Really, really exciting.
Our local Red Hat chapter - The Late Bloomers decided on this "all-girls" trip.
It will be my first one, - and I can't wait!
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DEAR DIARY - DAY 2
Entire day at sea, beautiful. Saw whales and dolphins. Met the Captain today -- seems like a very nice, handsome man.
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DEAR DIARY - DAY 3
At the pool today. Did some shuffleboard, hit golf balls off the deck. Captain invited me to join him at his table for dinner. Felt honored and had a wonderful time. He is very attractive and attentive.
----------------------------------------------------------
DEAR DIARY - DAY 4
Won $800.00 in the ship's casino. Captain asked me to have dinner with him in his own cabin. Had a scrumptious meal complete with caviar and champagne. He asked me to stay the night, but I declined. Told him I could not be unfaithful to my husband.
--------------------------------------------------------------
DEAR DIARY - DAY 5
Pool again today. Got sunburned, and I went inside to drink at piano-bar, stayed there for rest of day. Captain saw me, bought me several large drinks.
Really is quite charming. Again asked me to visit his cabin for the night. Again I declined. He told me, if I did not let him have his way with me, he would sink the ship...
I was shocked.
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DEAR DIARY - DAY 6
Today I saved 2600 lives.
Twice.
Father of the Bride’s speeches that is. The last daughter was got rid off married yesterday.
Yesterday’s wedding of my daughter went off without a hitch. (Mind you there was a nearly fatal accident when a large inebriated women, slipped and almost crushed a small child whilst dancing. I’m sure the health and safety executive will find some rule or regulation in due course).
The venue was stunning and the civil ceremony went well, even though I had to restrain my daughter from running down the aisle shouting “His fortune is within my grasp”.
Even this season of unfortunate weather was no deterrent to the organisation and timing of the wedding and reception.
What was so remarkable about this wedding compared with my other daughters wedding was this one was not a packaged bash. We chose a barebones venue and organised the catering, flowers, refreshments, evening bar, and DJ, ourselves. And surprisingly it worked.
As any readers of this blog will know, I spent many hours working on my speech, with some trepidation I can tell you.
However it seemed to go down a storm. Every time I drew breath people clapped. I gave it a tear factor of 20% due to the number of people who came up to me afterwards to inform me that they had cried at some stage. (It then really worried me. Had I, in my utter funk, just recited the speech I made at my late uncle’s funeral by mistake?)
Any way the whole do was a resounding success.
My tip is anyone who has a daughter to get rid off marry off. Do feel free to organise it yourself, It’s not just about saving money. It’s about satisfaction. The Bride and groom get a marriage tailored to perfection.
I’m suffering with a post wedding hangover, so I’m going to pour another large whisky.
And a toast to the happy couple.
And here they are. Please be upstanding and raise your glasses. May they live in happiness.
PS I’m actually sober whilst writing this piece. I just need to say how proud I am of my kids.
My father of the bride speech.
Tomorrow God (or enter deity of your choice) willing I’ll be giving away my eldest daughter. I managed to palm the other one off on to a gullible fool a couple of years ago.
Luckily my son is down for the wedding and has proof read the drivel I wrote. Now, it is well spelt drivel.
Everything is now arranged and hopefully paid for, and with any luck the day will be a success.
PS. I now have most of the world’s supply of umbrellas.
Or at least not the female variety.
On Saturday my eldest daughter (Bless her) gets married. Yours truly has spent the last week or so running around in small circles tying up all the loose ends. Final fitting of THAT dress. Sorting out the collection and return of the morning suits. And of course the worst part of all. Bloody well having to pay for it all.
Here’s a little snippet of the costs involved for 110 guests.
The Venue: £ 5,000 (We’re renting the place FFS, not putting down a deposit to buy).
The DRESS!: £1,100. (I dared to mention a charity shop might be a good place to look. I spent two uncomfortable nights on the Sofa, for that heretical remark).
A photographer: £1,150. Those photos better be bloody good for that price. I expect at least some satellite imagery to be included.
And of course the……..
Wedding Breakfast : £ 8,750. FFS £80 a head for lamb chops, or whatever they’re called these days.
And that is just some of the cost of a thoroughly modern wedding. And before you have a go at me for the extravagance, If I didn’t concur with the arrangements I would be blamed for being anti feminist, and I must think of the Cheeeeldren.
And that’s why my posts have been sparse.
And don’t get me started on that speech I have to make.
