Never be an Executer

I never realised how much was involved in being an executor for someone else's estate.

Even with a solicitor there is a vast amount of work involved. Death certificates obtained and sent to all relevant parties. Ie. Inland revenue, utilities, and banks, etc, etc.

Then, as I've posted before dealing you have to deal with the Numpties in the Utility companies that don't talk between their own internal departments. Like having to deal with dodgy debt collection agencies that have the facts wrong and refuse to discuss them. (I also wonder how honest they are?).

Then there is the reams of paperwork required for the Inland revenue in order that they can get there pound of flesh from death duties.

Then to sell the property you have to submit documents to prove that you are not an international money launderer. The estate agents are required to ask for these, even when they know you.

Then there is HIPS. You know, that stupid document that no buyer in their right mind would trust. Any sane buyer makes sure that a full survey is undertaken by a qualified surveyor. Not someone who has done a 4 week course.

Energy proficiency certificate. FFS how many of the numpties carrying this out have a qualification in thermodynamics? All they will do is a quick visual inspection. That means bugger all.

And in the end I don't even get paid for it. What's more the beneficiaries are two spendthrift relations who have all ready spunked previous legacies against the wall and expect me to work unpaid in their best interest.

Note to me: I shall not rant, I shall not rant. I shall...........

Now I really have gone bonkers.

 

I've just found myself agreeing with George Monbiot.

Why do our paranoid, anti-fun police seem to think they run the country?

In his article he rips into the anti fun police over cancelled festivals and the treatment of lawful protests.

Over in the Guardian.

Ooh er. I've just admitted to reading the Guardian.

That's my money you're giving away.

 

Another Iniative:

A secondary school has become the first in Britain to issue every pupil with a personal laptop they can use at home.

All 1,400 students at Writhlington School have been given a Dell Netbook worth £400 which they use in lessons and take home with them.

It's bad enough that they're giving them away for free. Another is that they could have purchased the laptops considerably cheaper elsewhere. See here for example.

Of course they won't be used for logging onto Facebook or Bebo I trust.

I liked this though:

Their laptops are automatically backed-up on the school's main hard drives every time they are connected to the network.

I wonder what the IT department are going to find when they delve in to their server. Expect it to be full of Porn, viruses, and malware.

 

Source

Oi you lot.

I'm a crap Blogger. Therefore will you all stop reading my drivel as it's costing me money to Statcounter to keep up with the passing trade.

Only joking. Thanks to Everyone who visits. I love the comments. Especially the humorous ones. Keep them coming.

I never realised how incredibly difficult it was to Blog. I often get halfway through a blog and then give up. I will try and do better.

Thanks all.

I'll go to hell any day.

Censorship. The Christian way.

Add-on for Firefox

H/T to the All Seeing Eye

I just had to post it here.

I went to London

And nearly had my day ruined by London transport.

It was pissing down with rain so the sensible way to travel you would think is to go by Tube

Wrong. Doubly wrong. The authorities had seen fit to close three of the main lines all at the same time. Now I've used the Tube in the weekday rush hour and know what it's like. This was, unbelievably, worse. Trains were coming in full, and the platforms were a seething mass of tube train "displaced persons".

Get a grip Boris.

I did enjoy Phantom of The Opera though (third time).

She's worth it. (And I'm not)

 

When I retired after 44 years of loyal service to the crown (3 wars experienced). I received a two minute phone call thanking me.

The OH completes 15 years service and receives the following:

Dinner at Claridges

An £850 Mont Blanc pen set

An £830 Mont Blanc briefcase

and a £230 Mont Blanc Note book

Wimmin!

Yes I know that Subrosa will villify me. However I'm going to nick the fountain pen as my wife's writing is utter shite.

Casualties of.......

A U.S. army platoon was marching north of Fallujah when they came upon an Iraqi insurgent, badly injured and unconscious on the left-hand side of the road.

On the right-hand side was a British soldier in a similar, but less serious state. The Brit was conscious and alert. As first aid was given to both men, the American platoon leader asked the injured soldier what had happened.

The soldier reported: “I was recce-ing the highway here when suddenly, coming towards me from the south was a heavily-armed insurgent. We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road.

“I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein had been a miserable, lowlife scumbag who’d got what he deserved. The insurgent yelled back that Gordon Brown is a fat, useless, lying, one-eyed porridge wog. And furthermore, Lord Mandelson is a pillow-biting gay bastard!

“So I said that Osama Bin Laden dresses and ponces about like a frigid, hatchet-faced lesbian.
He retaliated by saying that so does Harriet Harman.

“And, there we were – in the middle of the road – shaking hands, when the f*****g bus hit us.”

 

H/T to The Daily Politics

Politics made easy. The Labour way.

A little boy goes to his dad and asks, 'What is Politics?'
Dad says, 'Well son, let me try to explain it this way:

"I am the head of the family, so call me The Prime Minister".

"Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government".

"We are here to take care of your needs, so we will call you the People".

"The nanny, we will consider her the Working Class".

"And your baby brother, we will call him the Future.
Now think about that and see if it makes sense".'

So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said.
Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his nappy.
So the little boy goes to his parent's room and finds his mother asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny..
He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning, the little boy say's to his father, 'Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now. '
The father says, 'Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about.'

The little boy replies, 'The Prime Minister is screwing the Working Class while the Government is sound asleep. The People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit.'