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Friday 31 August 2012

Shopping misunderstanding

There was a bit of confusion at the supermarket this morning. When I was ready to pay  for my groceries, the cashier said, "Strip down facing me."
Making a mental note to complain to my MP about Security running
amok, I did just as she had instructed.
When the hysterical shrieking and alarms finally subsided, I found out that  she was referring to my credit card.
I have been asked to shop elsewhere in the future.
They need to make their instructions to us seniors a little clearer!

Mind you, it’s better than this.






Thursday 30 August 2012

The Boy Who Cried Warming

A little eight minute trailer just to show how so many have been brainwashed to believe everything they're told without questioning it. A must watch. Includes polar bears (White fluffy animals that are dying I tell you.), & doomsday predictions questioned (We were all going to freeze).

Worth a watch.

Wednesday 29 August 2012

E-cow-nomics 101


You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbour.

You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.

You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.

You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and shoots you.

You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the
milk away.

You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.

You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters
of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a
debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all
four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to
a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company.
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more. You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States , leaving you with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.

You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.

You have two cows. You borrow lots of euros to build barns, milking
sheds, hay stores, feed sheds, dairies, cold stores, abattoir, cheese
unit and packing sheds. You still only have two cows.

You have two cows. You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the
roads, because you want three cows.

You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called a Cowkimona and market it worldwide.

You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.

You have 5000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.

You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.

You have two cows.
You worship them.

You have two cows.
Both are mad.

Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your
country. You still have no cows, but at least you are now a Democracy.

You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.

You have two cows.
The one on the left looks very attractive...

Tuesday 28 August 2012

Give it a rest

As a smoker I keep reading that 60%, 80%, or 2/3ds of smokers want to give up smoking. At least these are the figures touted to the MSM and the government by the Tobacco Control Industry. What I want to know is how they come by these startling statistics? They’ve never asked me or anyone I know.
So here’s a poll which I’d like my smoking visitors to fill in. It’s in my side bar.
Here’s a little reminder of what you might miss.

Suffer the little children………….

small girl

This is a story about the bond formed between a little girl and a
group of building workers. It's allegedly true and might help to confirm your belief in the goodness of people and that there is
hope for the human race....................

A young family moved into a house next door to an empty plot.
One day, a gang of building workers turned up to start building
on the plot.

The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest
in all the activity going on next door and started talking with the workers.

She hung around and eventually the builders, all with hearts of gold,
more or less adopted the little girl as a sort of project mascot. They
chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had tea and lunch
breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel

They even gave the child her very own hard hat and gloves,
which thrilled her immensely.

At the end of the first week, the smiling builders presented
her with a pay envelope - containing two pounds in 10p coins.
The little girl took her 'pay' home to her mother who suggested
that they take the money to the bank the next day to open
a savings account.

At the bank, the female cashier was tickled pink listening to the little
girl telling her about her 'work' on the building site and the fact she
had a 'pay packet'.

'You must have worked very hard to earn all this', said the cashier.
The little girl proudly replied, 'Yes, I worked every day with Steve and Wayne and Mike. We're building a big house.'

'My goodness gracious,' said the cashier, 'And will you be working on the house again next week?'

The child thought for a moment. Then she said seriously:

'I think so. Provided those wankers at Jewsons deliver the fucking bricks on time.'!!!!

The law of unintended consequences

Referring to my last post where I was heavily involved in DIY and gardening *shudders again*, I forgot about the cat.

Here’s what I came home to tonight.


Oh well. maybe I’ll try a hamster instead. They’re not big enough to hold a bottle.

Not only that, he’s been smoking my ciggies. Deserves his fate.

Monday 27 August 2012


I've been gardening *shudders*, hanging pictures' and now I'm babysitting.

I should reach Sainthood soon.

Sunday 26 August 2012

Have I got this right?


Over the last month I became a victim of a clever 'Eastern European' scam while out shopping.

Simply dropping into Sainsbury's for a bit of shopping has turned out to be quite traumatic. Don't be naive enough to think it couldn't happen to you or your friends.

Here's how the scam works: Two seriously good-looking voluptuous 20-21 year-old girls come over to your car as you are packing your shopping into the boot. They both start cleaning your windscreen, their breasts almost falling out Of their skimpy T-shirts.

When you thank them and offer them a tip, they'll say 'No' and instead ask you for a lift to another supermarket store, in my case, Tesco at Sevenoaks. You agree and they both get in the backseat. On the way, they start undressing, and both get completely naked.

Then, when you pull over to remonstrate, one of them climbs over into the front seat and starts crawling all over your lap, kissing you, touching you intimately, and thrusting herself against you, while the other one steals your wallet!

I had my wallet stolen on July 4th, 9th & 10th, twice on the 15th, again on 17th, 20th, 24th, and 29th. Also on August 1st, 4th, 6th, 10th, twice yesterday and hopefully again next weekend!!

P.S. Aldi have wallets on sale for £1.99 each but Lidl's are £1.75 and look better.

Amanda Sandford. You haven’t a clue. And you’re a liar.

She’s being shot down in flames by those who have really looked into subject of plain packaging.

She even manages to insert the lie at 21:15 mins that 2/3 of smokers want to give up.

She gets torn to shreds.

Saturday 25 August 2012

A different view of London 2012….

I see the Romanians have taken Gold, Silver and Bronze..............and copper and lead, and any other metal they can get their thieving hands on!!


The Sailing results are in.

GB took the Gold, USA took the Silver, Somalia took a middle aged couple from Weymouth.


I see the Aussies aren't doing very well in the Olympics, but then if they could run, they wouldn't have been Australians in the first place.


My mate asked me: "What is the shortest race in the Olympics?"
After thinking for a few minutes, I came up with an answer: "Chinese," I replied


Of course Team GB ladies won the rowing... it's the same basic movement as ironing!


Maybe I shouldn’t have included that last one.

Friday 24 August 2012

Preparing for sea.

That is, the engineering side of getting a vessel’s propulsion and steering systems ready for sea. How things change.

Lets take the case of an improved RFA Fort class vessel of about twenty years of age, and a Wave class of approximately five years of age.

The Fort class vessel.


Ensure that there is enough spinning reserve being generated from the diesel generators. (Although the vessel allegedly had a power management system I prefer to call it a mismanagement system).

Head three levels down to the bottom of the engine room.

Turn both engines on turning gear for two complete revolutions each.

Disengage turning gear.

Kick over engines on air without fuel.

Close all 32 indicator cocks.

Put safety caps on cocks.

Turn on fuel and run both engines ahead and astern on fuel from local position next to the engines.

Test local telegraphs with the bridge Officer.

Test clutches and shaft brakes locally.

Remember to switch control of engines to remote.

Go to control room. (Out of breath)

Test telegraphs with Bridge.

Go round the back of the manoeuvring console and reset electric governors. (Don’t leave this step out, Things could get frightening otherwise).

Test clutches and brakes in manual MCR control.

Test engines ahead and astern in manual control.

Test engines , clutches and brakes in MCR auto control.

Test Engines, clutches, and brakes, in Bridge control.

Head off down to the steering flat.

Test all 4 humungous electro-hydraulic steering motors in local manual control.

Test all four steering motors in push button local control.

Pass control to the bridge and have it all tested from there..

Go back to the MCR and wipe sweat from your brow. Approximate time for this as a lone engineer evolution. (If done properly) 1 1/2 hours at least..

The Wave class vessel.

wave knight

Put kettle on.

From the MCR, test telegraphs with the bridge.

Contact the systems engineer in the sychroconverter room and tell him to do likewise.

Make tea.

Place cursor over one of the  harmonic filters and “click*

Start main motors with a judicious “click” on the right place on the screen.

Use tiny little lever to test the propeller rotates ahead and astern.

Contact systems engineer and tell him to do the same.

Swig tea.

On completion pass control to the bridge and get the officer of the day to do the same.

Swig more tea.

“Click” on bow thruster and stern thruster start, and test from MCR and bridge.

Tea’s still hot.

Nip down to the steering flat and test the two motors in the same way as the Fort class.

Go back to the MCR. Time taken. About the time it takes for the tea to go from piping hot, to warm.

This post is just to show that technology is changing the way we do things in the field of marine engineering. The order of testing I’ve written maybe slightly wrong but the time taken is the thrust of this post. (we all get old).

ED’s Note:

The first vessel had a twin engine, twin screw, direct drive setup operating through gearboxes and clutches.

The second vessel was a diesel electric, single screw system. The primary source of power was a power management system powering two DC motors attached to a single shaft.

Footnote: Sadly the RFA Fort George has now been scrapped and cut up for razor blades.

PS. Another Filthy Engineer. Give me a clue to your identity if you’re reading this. Just give me the first letter of your surname. You can contact me anyway at

Common sense

No. This country lost the idea of that a long while ago.

H/T to Dick Pudlecote.

Thursday 23 August 2012

Think of the bloody children.

Mine that is.

Having just spent the weekend at my son’s place wherefore I was subjected in my  mind, to a horror akin to waterboarding, ie gardening. I now find myself involved in helping my daughter, her husband and child move into a new house. So I’ll be hanging pictures, putting up shelves, decorating, plumbing, electrickery, and MORE BLOODY GARDENING!


Tuesday 21 August 2012


WARNING: Do not read this and drink at the same time.


This is a review for Veet For Men (which I must say I didn't know existed) 3 July 2012 By A. Chappell which can be found on Amazon. If you don't cry you will wet yourself.
After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly Rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly successful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considered myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen.
I didn't have long to wait.
At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg.
Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me. The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .
Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the draw for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me.
This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain. The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before.
Unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involuntary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction.
I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...:)

Do read some of the other reviews

Monday 20 August 2012

I’m back


Though I doubt that the majority of the world have missed me.

We managed the journey back from “Oop North” in three and a half hours. All in all, a pretty good time. However your blogger in chief here, hates having to drive on a Sunday. I used to drive every Monday and Friday around the M25 and down the M4 in the rush hour, and was amazed by the professionalism of the drivers of both lorries and car drivers who did this every day. Very rarely did you have to take any serious evasive action, most drivers anticipated the various manoeuvres  of other vehicles.

Not on a Sunday.

Now I drive a powerful car, and like to use it to get from A to B as quickly as possible. One of the things that annoy me most, is when the Sunday driver has no idea that I’m bearing down on him and his insistence of “I’ll stick to 60 so as not to break the law” syndrome. Even when the limit is 70 Mph. I was taught that for every five seconds looking forward, you should spend one second looking in your rear view mirror. This is to gain spatial awareness of the traffic around you. In future do look in your mirror. If you do you’ll realise I don’t appear behind you as if transported down by teleporter.

Another little fact that differentiates a regular motorway user from a Sunday driver is the use of brakes. I very rarely use them. If you’re  using your spatial awareness, you look ahead and watch the brake lights of the vehicles some way ahead of you. All you do is take your foot off the throttle and increase the safe distance between you and the vehicle in front.

Then there's the old man in a hat driving his Rover 25 in the left hand lane that drives at a lower speed than an articulated lorry. Thus causing the Artics to have to pull into the middle lane to pass him. Thus adding to the congestion.

And as for the coloured (Am I allowed to use that term these days?) gentleman driving a taxi in the outside lane at that fore mentioned 60 MPH. Look around you before pulling over into the middle lane. If I hadn’t hooted you, you would have side swiped that car that was minding it’s own business. Incidentally I’ve made a mental note to never hire you.

Lastly. I haven’t had an accident (Tempting fate now) for 30 years. Mind you I’ve probably caused 100’s of Rover 25 to hurtle off the roads.

Just as a foot note. I hired a car to get me from Weymouth to Kent and what did they give me? A Rover 75! I was so ashamed that I parked it a car park rather that have it sit on my drive overnight.

The Kiss of death

Some Bikers were riding west on I-74 when they saw a girl about to jump off a Peoria bridge, so they stopped.


The leader, George, a big burly man of 53, gets off his bike, walks through the gawkers, past the State Trooper, and says, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to commit suicide," she says.

While he didn't want to appear "sensitive," he didn't want to miss a be-a-legend opportunity either, so he asked ... "Well, before you jump, why don't you give me a kiss?"

So, with no hesitation at all, she leaned back over the railing and did just that... and it was a long, deep, lingering kiss followed immediately by another one.

After she's finished, George gets approval from his group, the onlookers, and even the State Trooper, then says, "Wow!  That was the best kiss I have ever had, Honey!  That's a real talent you are wasting, Sugar Shorts.  You could be famous if you rode with me.  Why are you committing suicide?"

"My parents don't like me dressing up like a girl."

The onlookers are still unclear whether she jumped or was pushed!

Saturday 18 August 2012


edukasion att itts fynist.


















maikes yu wundar whot kidz r tort thess dais.

Friday 17 August 2012


I’ve headed up north to spend the weekend with my son. Worryingly I’ve been asked to bring my tools. I just hope it doesn’t involve plumbing.

I don’t know if it’s just a coincidence but it seems to me that since they installed average speed cameras at the Dartford crossing on the M25, there seems to be permanent tailbacks on both sides for miles.


It took six bloody hours to get there. Normally it takes three and a half. I expect they’ll start installing parking meters on the A1 next.

Thursday 16 August 2012

Plumbing new depths


Well in the back of a cupboard, that is.

This a tale of skill, strength, despair at times, tenacity, and finally success.

My central heating has servo operated shut of valves for heating of hot water and house heating. I’d noticed over the last two weeks that occasionally the radiators were heating up when hot water was demanded. The obvious culprit would seem to be a leaky servo valve for the radiator network. Rather than replace the entire unit (£60) I hunted around on the interweb and found a supplier that could supply me with internal spares for the valve at £15. (By the way, if you’re looking for similar central heating spares I would direct you to I ordered the parts at 7 PM. They were with me before 8 the following morning).

Now the background has been explained, now the fun begins.

A simple job I thought. Just a case of removing the servo motor from the valve, removing the old parts and replacing with new, replacing the servo motor and job done. Simples. Only tool required, a screwdriver.

Not. The silly fool that had positioned the valve unit (Me), had never thought that he would ever need to overhaul it in situ. I couldn’t get at the fixing screws. Bugger.

Only thing for it was to remove the servo valve in it’s entirety from the pipework. The only problem was that this pipework is 22mm diameter and has work hardened with age. The two connection nuts put up a bit of a struggle but nothing compared to removing the valve from the pipework. Even after slackening every connection in sight it took the combined efforts of a three foot crowbar supplemented by three foot of scaffold pole to enable the valve to be withdrawn. The actual refurbishment of the valve took a matter of minutes and I was thinking that I was on a romp for the home straight.


To get the valve back in place took even more brute force and I was starting to sweat like a rapist before finally the valve popped back in position between the two pipes. Nearly at the last furlong. Just simply screw the connection nuts and tighten. Top nut OK, but when I thought that the bottom nut was seated correctly on the threads and started to tighten, horrifyingly I spied a little sliver of brass sidling it’s way from the nut. Stop stop, you’re cross threading, my brain threw at me. Now your FE, when he does plumbing uses as few compression fittings as possible, and solders everything in sight where possible. The thought of  having to cut and make new soldered connections was a dreadful thought worthy of suicide on the authors part due to the confines.

However casting a glinty eye at the connection I had a feeling that it was slightly out of line and after a little correction tried the connection again. Lo and behold the nut firmly screwed up the thread (No sniggering at the back please), and with a slight squeak was firmly tightened.

And guess what? Everything works as it should, with no leaks.

Morals of the story:

1. I’ll never be a design engineer.

2, Weigh up the task correctly before you begin.

3. Never give up.

4. Employ a plumber and let him bugger it up while you snigger in the background?

5. Expect the worst. And plan for it.

Wednesday 15 August 2012

Where’s my Nobel prize then?

A simple analogy to show how climate change  works.

chicken in microwave

Stefan Boltzmann was seriously injured in the writing of this post.

Tuesday 14 August 2012

Should I, shouldn’t I?

I’m sorely tempted to send the link below to The parliamentary committee on Plain packaging of cigarettes, The dreadful Arnott of ASH, CRUK, and sundry other vile groups that are supporting this ridiculous idea.
Cuddly children and fluffy kittens for all.
Only click on the link if you are a member of any of the above organisations.

*You have been warned*

Update: HERE

From Sadbutmadlad 


Monday 13 August 2012


Paul Bartlett picks up cigarette butts in Stony Stratford

Remember the caped crusader Anti-smoker from Stoney Stratford? Herr Bartlett. It would seem that he can’t even manage the rules of an election

AboutMyArea/MK11 learned over the weekend that there is to be a by-election in the Stony Stratford South West Ward.

Paul Bartlett failed to sign his declaration of acceptance of office at or before the first meeting of the council following the May elections.

If you really want to read anymore about this waste of oxygen you can read about him, Here, Here, & Here.

If he’s that inept I hope the electors will vote for someone else for their own good.

Team GB having fun

Saturday 11 August 2012

Friday 10 August 2012

The appliance of science

The video below only makes sense to those who have a strong background in engineering. It’s a ground breaking invention1.

Or Not.

1 This is how you need to look and sound when you're talking WAY over your head. How this guy manages to keep a straight face is beyond me. I was waiting for him to start cracking up, like I was, listening to himself. The explanation is totally untrue, but sounds reasonable.
Many years ago, Rockwell International decided to get into the heavy duty automatic transmission business. They were preparing to tape their first introductory video and, as a warm up, one of the stage crew began a monologue that has become legend within the training industry.  This man should have won an academy award for his performance.

Now keep in mind, this was a rehearsal for camera, lighting, and stage crew,and he had no script!  This is all strictly off the cuff, nothing is written down, and nothing he says is true.  It's just meaningless drivel and BS made up as he goes along. I am told this video is still utilized as a training aide for incoming congressmen, lawyers, and current White House Administrators.

Thursday 9 August 2012

Chicanery writ large.

As some of you know. I’m a smoker.

Shortly there is going to be a parliamentary meeting to discuss whether plain packaging of tobacco products should be introduced.

Both sides of the argument have been mustering support for their relevant viewpoints before the closing day for submissions. Tomorrow.

Yesterday the “Tobacco Control Industry” had only managed to garner 75,000 replies in support, whereas the “Hands of our packs” had managed to collect at least 235,000. However the plain packs puritans are not known for the British sense of fair play and have resorted to grubby underhand tactics.

Having seen that their efforts were failing they’ve now resorted to using a Brazilian origin web site to try and reinforce their oppressive message.

You can read more of the story here.

And before any Anti-smokers think about nipping over there to sign the petition, I suggest you think long and hard before you do.

Do you like a drink or two, or maybe you like your food a little too much?

Let me tell you. There are other single issue groups that are looking to see how this tobacco control template pans out. Don’t be surprised if your favourite tipple or gastronomic delight is sold to you with a plain label,covered in health warnings and graphic pictures of diseased livers and high blood pressure warnings.

You have been warned. Soon you will be living in a grey world where all the fun has been removed by the state.

Wednesday 8 August 2012

A few simple facts


Such an unfair world. When a man talks dirty to a woman its considered sexual harassment. When a woman talks dirty to a man its £2.50/min (charges may vary).

Just booked a table for Valentine's Day for me and the wife. Bound to end in tears though - she's crap at snooker.

Met a beautiful girl down at the park today. Sparks flew, she fell at my feet and we ended up having sex there and then. God, I love my new Taser!

Got a new Jack Russell pup today, he's mainly black and brown with just a small white area so I've called him Bradford.

If you get an email telling you that you can catch Swine Flu from tins of ham then delete it. It's Spam.

They say that sex is the best form of exercise. Now correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think 2 minutes and 15 seconds every 3 months is going to shift this beer belly.

I've just watched a documentary about children being beaten and abused in Indian sweatshops. Looking at the quality of stitching on my new trainers the little bastards deserved it!

When I was a kid people used to cover me in chocolate and cream and put a cherry on my head. Yeah, life was tough in the gateau.

The local deli ran out of milk again due to the freezing weather, fortunately, my elderly neighbour Doreen has plenty stacked up on her doorstep.

A man bought a waterbed but unfortunately his house  caught fire and he was poached to death.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
News flashes:
1. Now on sale at IKEA – beds for lesbians: no nuts or screwing involved, it's all tongue and groove.

2. A Muslim has been shot with a starting pistol; police say it's definitely race related.

3. Due to a water shortage in Ireland, Dublin swimming baths have announced they are closing lanes 7 and 8.

4. I got a letter from Screw Fix Direct thanking me for my interest, but explaining they were not a dating agency.

Tuesday 7 August 2012

View from Mars





A lorry has arrived in London carrying barbed wire and wooden posts......turns out its the Irish Olympic fencing team.



Monday 6 August 2012

A bloody nuisance

or two

Everything seems to be conspiring against this scribe.

My left shoulder is still buggered (I don’t know why). I know I should visit the doctor, but finding I was struck of the register and having to re-register, they don’t fill me with ease. More a sense of foreboding.

Secondly I’ve tried to help my eldest daughter, her husband, and infant with their home move. Needless to say the solicitors and an estate agent completely fucked that up. There is light at the end of the tunnel. However knowing our luck it will be an approaching train.

Thirdly, my trusted mower broke down and I stupidly trusted a so called expert firm to repair it. I even told them what the repair needed was. They had the offending machine for four weeks to carry out the repair. I could have done that repair in four hours if I’d the tools.

You can imagine how long the grass grew in that time. I mowed it today. All today.

Fourthly. I took my car in about four months ago to have the juddering, under braking fixed. After forking out a huge sum for the front disks and pads to be renewed, guess what? They’re bloody juddering again FFS? Last time they tried to blame me for overzealous braking. What will they try to blame me with this time?

Fifthly. I went to the garage yesterday afternoon to get a beer. I was driven out by a swarm of wasps. Bastards. However the end was nigh for those buggers. After twilight and having suitably dressed myself in protective clothing, I had great delight in eradicating those evil creatures from this earth. Sue me if you like, Greenpeace.

Hopefully this week will be better.

Sunday 5 August 2012



Nuf said.

* No locks were damaged in the making of this movie *

Friday 3 August 2012


I was visiting my daughter and son-in-law the other night
when I asked if I could borrow a newspaper.

'This is the 21st century, old man,' he said.
'We don't waste money on newspapers.
Here, you can borrow my iPad,

I can tell you, that bloody fly never knew what hit it.

Smokers Forum


Nothing2Declare has just started a Forum for smokers to talk about smoking issues. Especially cross border shopping.

Can be found HERE

Thursday 2 August 2012

Life on Mars?

Beautiful and incredible images from the latest batch of photographs sent back from the Mars Lander. Do not scroll down to pic four if you are of a nervous disposition











oxfam water supplier

Wednesday 1 August 2012

Bloggers think

and MSM journalists don’t.

A Professor Muller has just released non peer reviewed papers on the BEST surface temperature project the Berkeley Earth Surface Temperature (Best) project, led by Prof Richard Muller, has published its final results.

I’m not going to write about that little piece of trickery as others more qualified than me are already ripping his methodology apart. Anyway I digress.

A journalist, who Blogs at the Daily Telegraph has supposedly read the paper says we should read it and believe it because Professor Muller is an “expert”. The journo, a Mr Tom Chivers, reckons we should take the paper as read. Below is his line of reasoning.

The trouble is, there's no avoiding it. As a non-climate scientist, I have to accept certain things on authority, as I do with all expert knowledge. This is an argument from authority, but we all do it, and it's vital: if I had cancer, I'd accept the authority of the oncologist and the body of knowledge of the oncology community, rather than try to guide my own treatment with information I'd found on the internet.

He’s trying to make the point that an expert should always be trusted. Why? Have they never been wrong.

After all for hundreds of years the reasoning was that the Earth was flat, and the Sun orbited the Earth. That was the expert belief at the time. Consensus by experts should only be proven by repeated testing of the theory.

Let me give you a case in point.

Helicobacter pylori (Stomach Ulcer to you and me) was for many years believed by the medical profession to be caused by stress and spicy foods. The believed consensus at the time. (They were the experts or so they thought).


Helicobacter pylori was rediscovered in 1982 by two Australian scientists, Robin Warren and Barry J. Marshall as a causative factor for ulcers.[28] In their original paper, Warren and Marshall contended that most gastric ulcers and gastritis were caused by colonization with this bacterium, not by stress or spicy food as had been assumed before.[29]

The H. pylori hypothesis was poorly received,

It took a further fifteen years before the consensus was finally overturned. And finally.

In 2005, the Karolinska Institute in Stockholm awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine to Dr. Marshall and his long-time collaborator Dr. Warren "for their discovery of the bacterium Helicobacter pylori and its role in gastritis and peptic ulcer disease."

Now I have some knowledge of this illness. Last year I suffered from various symptoms such as upset stomach, burning sensation in the stomach, lack of appetite, and occasional vomiting. When I visited my doctor he initially dismissed these symptoms as a minor stomach upset. However I had researched my symptoms and they were far more indicative of something more than a minor stomach upset. I refused to accept his diagnosis and he reluctantly agreed for blood tests to be undergone.

A week later I was diagnosed with an infection of Helicobacter pylori. If I hadn’t questioned the expert, who knows what would have happened? I might be blogging from a hospital bed. Or God forbid, dead. (Mind you Mrs FE would probably have welcomed my demise). 

Moral of the story Tom: Even experts can be wrong. Don’t blindly believe everything you’re told by press release. Question it to an inch of it’s life. That’s what makes a great journalist rather than a mediocre one.