How do they make a living?

Apologies for the lack of posts of late but things are quite hectic at the moment.

My present motor conveyance has been costing me money that I don’t want to spend. So I’m looking for something new.

Having looked on this Interweb thingy I found a slew of franchised dealers that sold the make of vehicle I wished to purchase.

Mrs FE and myself jumped into our motor carriage and sweated (Bloody AC has gone tits up) our way to the dealer. On getting there, and finding a parking space we wandered around the forecourt for a good fifteen minutes. Now in the old days, within minutes, you’d be fighting of salesmen like a diver fights off sharks. They didn’t have what I wanted, but I doubt whether I would have bought from them anyway. (They were probably sitting in the air conditioned showroom giggling at the two old duffers braving 32 degrees of heat).

Anyway back to the internet for another look. And guess what? I found just the car that would suit us at another dealer linked to the same franchise. Naturally I phoned that dealer and arranged for a viewing and a test drive in an hour and a half’s time.

Hah.

When we got there (Drenched in bodily fluids. And no we hadn’t pissed ourselves), no-one seemed to know why we were there.

An utter shambles.

Not only was the vehicle to be viewed stuck behind three rows of other cars, but they couldn’t find the sodding keys for ten minutes.

Anyway I shall cut them some slack as I’m going for a test drive on friday.

Is this the same in all British industry or am I just unlucky?

Today we won a battle

But the war is still on-going. Here I’m talking about the government’s decision not to introduce plain packaging for tobacco products.

I think that the government has just realised that 20% of the populace smoke and are terrified that this could be a disaster for them at election time if those smokers for instance were to vote for UKIP.

Thanks to all that fought this creeping nannying assault on us smokers.

Especially:

Dick Puddlecote

Jay

Forest

And everyone else who fought this stupid idea.

Put that in your pipe….

and smoke it.

Interesting little video showing the lack of knowledge at a NHS smoking quit line.

Sorry about the music.

Speed limits

I was on facebook a few minutes ago when a member asked why don't we abolish speed limits on motorways? Of course straight away comments were the usual. We need them to prevent accidents. I disagree.

Apart from the fact that the 70 mph speed limit was set when cars were fitted with drum brakes, no ABS, crossply tires, and dubious  suspension, this figure was just chosen at seemingly random.

My premise is that speed alone is not the killer. The killers are "Innapropriate speed and lack of spacial awareness. You shouldn't drive at 70 in thick fog, but why can't you drive at 100 mph on the M25 at 0300 in the morning in good conditions? How many drivers use all their mirrors? I must spend 30% of my time using my mirrors in order to build a mental picture of the vehicles around me.

One sign of a good motorway driver is that they use their brakes sparingly. This driver evaluates relative velocities in good time and eases of on the throttle  as required to cease closing with the vehicle ahead.

Personally I feel safer driving around the M25 in the rush hour than on a weekend when the Rover 45 owners club are out in force visiting relations.

The climate change skeptic’s view.

 

Busy

Babysitting.

For a while you have no grandchildren, and then all of a sudden two come at once. Just like buses. After having four years of retirement, it's like going back to work. When you've just got into the habit of doing what you want to, when you want, it comes as a shock. It's like work. Certain things have to be done at certain times. (Feeding, nappy changing, getting them to sleep, etc. At least when I was working I could discuss the day's plan of action. Now my workforce just scream at me.

At least I don't have to pay them.

Can lightening strike twice. Yes it can.

Three years (ish) ago my eldest daughter and her partner (Now my son in law) were informed that they only had a 5% chance of having a child. However against all odds and just before they were going to try IVF treatment, the little miracle occurred. My daughter became pregnant. They now have a bouncing nineteen month (I thinkish)  boy.

From the moment he was diagnosed with testicular cancer, Huw Allanson had feared his dream of becoming a father would never come true.
Having battled testicular cancer twice – losing his left testicle and having nine rounds of chemotherapy in the process – he was told his chances of becoming a father were just five per cent.
But this year, he’s had more to celebrate than most. Incredibly, just a week before he and his fiancé Lizi, 32, were due to start IVF, they discovered they had managed to conceive naturally and their son Ryan was born in in April this year. (That’s 2012)(And they’re now married).

Here's the story in full
They love the boy (Ryan) but were resigned to him being an only child.
However the fairy tale doesn’t end there. Guess what?
She’s now pregnant again!

Grrrrrrrh. More babysitting.

I've finally posted this.

How to open a beer.

Public service announcement.

NB. The author of this post takes no responsibility for any loss of body parts whilst carrying out some of these suggestions.

Engineering argument.

Political correctness. The definition.

There's an annual contest at Bond University, Australia, calling for the most appropriate definition of a contemporary term.

This year's chosen term was 'political correctness'.

The winning student wrote:

'Political correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and rapidly promoted by mainstream media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a piece of shit by the clean end.’

Just saying.