Keyhole surgery.

Yesterday a warning appeared on the notification panel on my car’s dashboard, “Dipped Beam Bulb failure”.  A quick trip round to the front of the vehicle quickly determined that the offending item was on the near side.

Simples. A quick trip to Halfords was all it needed and back home ready to fit it today.

Not so Simples, especially with a hangover. The vehicle in question is a Volvo. Now, as many of you may know, in my previous incarnation before I retired, I was a Marine Engineer. Being a Marine Engineer meant that I frequently had to repair some very badly designed pieces of equipment. But nothing like changing a bulb in  a Volvo. Apart from only enough space for a two year old’s hand, why an earth run a wiring loom over the top? Just to make it invisible to the naked it eye I suppose. Is it compulsory for Volvo designers to have a degree in torture and psychological warfare?

So guess what your FE did next?

Answers on a postcard to …………….

Are we there yet?

Why do we have this obsession for seeing the new year in? It’s going to happen whatever we do. About now I’m sick of seeing mediocre acts on Jool’s hollands Hootenanny and would prefer to just disapear up to bed with a cup of horlicks, and jump into bed in my winciette pyjamas and a hot water bottle. (I made that last bit up).

Instead I shall nurse another large drink until midnight, and then slink quietly off to my slough of despond in the hope that I’ll wake in time for lunch.

The End

of 2010.

I’m off for a few scoops so all remains is to wish all my readers:

A happy New Year

And mind how you go, and think of the Cheeeeldren.

A mess

 

I’ve been tagged by Man Widdicombe to describe my *ahem* work station. This was on the instigation of Dick Puddlecote who started this interesting diversion from the mundane pastime of Ranting Blogging.

Now my desk is an Ikea table set against the wall in my Kitchen so as to be out of the way. I’ve been meaning to move it to one of the bedrooms since the kids flew the coop, but never got around to it.

Not to waste any time, here is my description of my blogging pit.

A computer obviously, situated under the table.

A monitor and keyboard.

A portable hard drive

A camera.

Satnav. (To navigate through the junk on the table).

Two debit card readers. Legal, before you ring the Plod.

2009 diary. I must get around to throwing that out.

A pile of paperwork which I must look through someday.

Order of service for Mother’s funeral. She died recently. (Three years ago).

November’s Parish magazine.

A shredder.

A sealed tin. Containing God knows what.

A cylinder of computer wipes.

Three Christmas crackers.

Piles of used and unused CDs, DVDs, and a floppy.

? (Whatever it is, I hope that it’s dead).

Ashtray(Full). Note to self. Must get a bigger one.

Ciggies. Bugger where’s the lighter gone.

One printed picture entitled “Submarine racing,exciting to watch”

A Christmas card from the Indian Takeaway.

That’s about it. I think.

I would like to nominate Fuel Injected Moose and Mummy Long Legs. lets see what they’ve got in their Blogging pits.

The swine are at it again.

Not content with the Debacle of last year’s attempt to frighten us, the politicos are at it again.

A ‘perfect storm’ of winter illness will batter Britain’s health services today.

Hospitals will be pushed to breaking point by a post-Christmas deluge of patients suffering from flu and the winter vomiting bug.*

Accident and emergency departments are bracing themselves for a surge of referrals as GP practices open for the first time after the extended bank holiday weekend.

They are also expecting high numbers of elderly patients to be brought in as they are visited by care workers for the first time in four days.

Soaring levels of both seasonal and swine flu will heap extra strain on hospitals already dealing with cases of the sickness bug norovirus, which usually peak at this time of year.

Remember last year when they predicted that thousands would die from the flue? What was the result? No more than usual.

Look you twats. Give the people the real information rather than “suggest” an outcome. What about some good news. Such as: “The Filthy Engineer has survived another festive season.”

This is scaremongering at it’s worst.

And I have been endowed with this most noble award

*Probably in my case, caused by imbibing too much of the demon drink*

Charity giving is up to me.

They never seem to be able to stop hectoring us, can they?

Cashpoint users will be encouraged to donate to charity every time they withdraw money, under Government plans to encourage a more ‘giving’ society.

Shoppers could also be asked to make donations whenever they make a purchase, on the high street or online.

As far as I’m concerned what I do with my money after the Government has reduced me to near penury, is up to me.

Mr Maude said it was a key part of Tory plans to encourage a ‘Big Society’ in which communities provide more services themselves instead of relying on central government.

As I wrote in a previous post, I don’t want to be part of your “Big Society”. I just want to be left alone from the “Nudge” policy being used by those in power over us.

Where’s all this charity money going to go I wonder? Most likely to those Taxpayer funded fake charities such as ASH who just like to make my life a misery.

On a personal note.

Just Fuck Off and leave me alone.

Kill the kids early

Last night I struggled through the snow to keep the spongers my children in booze. Most of them and their hangers-on's  fiancées, husbands, etc, left before I could shame them into contributing to FE’s retirement fund.

However the hard core rump were perturbed that the wine lake was empty. Ok, being a stupid generous father, I braved the elements and visited the local wine vendor to stock up for these parasites family members.

What have they done this evening? Left the wine to die of old age and hit the Vodka, Rum, and  whisky.

I despair.

Moral of the story: Have a vasectomy at the age of about ten.

Think of the Cheeldren

Bloody Locusts Children emptied the cellars of all the alcohol that FE bought for Christmas. Considering that FE bought £ 278 of booze on the thursday before Christmas, that’s some going. They’ve just had the cheek to complain about the lack of stock.

So FE has been forced to trudge through the snowdrifts to the local alcohol retailer and buy the following:

Vodka x 2

Wine (White) x 4

Beer. 24 bottles.

Rum x 1

I’m keeping my coat on as I expect that I’ll have to repeat the journey.

Think of the Cheeeeeldren. Bah humbug.

Oh (Rein)Deer

 

Next time look where you’re going you bearded old fool.

Just think of the Cheeeeeldren.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Yes. Justice has been done.

Remember the case where a woman was thrown bodily into a cell and injured. Remember how the Officer was charged but won his appeal.

However he has been dismissed from the Police. Good result I think. At least someone is sane.

Wilts custody sergeant sacked.