Postcard of an AGW future

I despair. I really do.

There’s a competition in the Metro in which you can send in your photo shopped postcard depicting London in the grip of climate change.

Paddy fields in London, Don’t make me laugh.

This is what I’ll send in

Just a sample pic, as I’ll need lots more mobile cranes to hang Greens, Politicians, AGWs’, carbon credit consortia, and all others who are peddling this travesty of science.

Remind me tomorrow to buy shares in caterpillar and other crane manufacturers.

I do have futures in piano wire.

Coming to their senses?

Maybe.

Britain’s leading scientific institution has been forced to rewrite its guide to climate change and admit that there is greater uncertainty about future temperature increases than it had previously suggested.

The Royal Society is publishing a new document today after a rebellion by more than 40 of its fellows who questioned mankind’s contribution to rising temperatures.

Maybe they might let me become a member. I’ve been saying that for years.

And the barbecue summers that the  Met Office warned us about.

The Royal Society even appears to criticise scientists who have made predictions about heat waves and rising sea levels. It now says: “There is little confidence in specific projections of future regional climate change, except at continental scales.”

But of course it’ll take years for the political class to come round to the fact that they’ve been conned by all the vested interests in the “settled science”. They’re still being duped.

Meanwhile, the Government is planning an exercise to test how England and Wales would cope with severe flooding caused by climate change. Exercise Watermark will take place in March and test emergency services and communities on a range of scenarios that could occur.

Of course they are trying to confuse us by just changing the name from AGW to “global climate disruption”, in the hope that their green followers will remain in a state of perpetual panic.

*Sigh*

No. Medway again.

A tail(sic) of fluffy animals, white lines, and an other department’s incompetence in Medway.

White lines have been painted over a fox as it lay dead in a village.

If you are of a weak or feeble disposition, or a bunny hugger, look away now.

I mean really, how could they have missed it? I honestly thought these sort of things were urban myths.

However the council attempted to wriggle out of it’s responsibility (As they do).

A council spokesman said: "This was an unfortunate incident that occurred while private contractors employed by the council were carrying out road marking work.

Note to the Council: He who submits the lowest tender is not always capable of executing that tender.

(Learnt by experience of shiprepairer contracts).

*I don’t know why I keep writing about Medway, I don’t even live there. However I do feel sorry for the inhabitants.*

Tally Ho

I’m sure there’s a great wailing and nashing of teeth by Westminster council, over these boys, doing their civic duty.

The saviour cometh.

No. I haven’t turned to religion I’m just feeling thoroughly pissed off over this.

The Bank of England’s deputy governor yesterday urged the country to go on a shopping spree to boost the fragile economy.

In an extraordinary move, Charles Bean said he wanted to see Britons ‘not saving more, but spending more’.

and

he said: ‘What we’re trying to do by our policy [low interest rates] is encourage more spending. Ideally, we’d like to see that in the form of more business spending but part of the mechanism that might encourage that is having more household spending. So, in the short-term, we want to see households not saving more, but spending more.’

Well Mr Bean, I’ve worked all my life in order to have a comfortable retirement and selfishly I want to keep my money. I’ve paid an extortionate amount of tax over all those years, so you’re not entitled to tell me what to do with my savings. After all with your quantative easing you devalued my savings in order to get you out of the hole you and the previous Government dug as it is.

So no Mr Bean, I shall not obey your orders to spend more for the good of the country. In a nutshell , get stuffed.

After all, when I snuff it, no doubt you’ll be round to my gaff for another sizeable wad.

Pink Pussy reunited with her owner.

I’m not sure about the owner bit. I’m of the firm belief that our two cats think they own us.

The owner of the pink pussy in the news has given herself up to the RSPCA.

Kill her you say for brutally harming this poor defenceless animal.

No says I.

The owner of a pink cat who was tracked down after a nationwide hunt has admitted she dyed her pet to match her hair.

Defiant Natasha Gregory said she was proud of her actions - and would even do it again.

The 22-year-old mother-of-two admitted using food colourant to turn the short-haired cat's fur a vivid shade of pink.

I especially like her cats name.

The fluorescent feline, named Oi! Kitty, is now so bright that she glows in the dark.

It would also seem in this case, that even the RSPCA maybe seeing sense over this owner and her actions.

'I have contacted the RSPCA to get her back and the lady I spoke to said she didn't think it would be a problem. But I'm going to have to wait until they go back to work today.'

I’m not sure about the vet though.

Despite being branded cruel by vet Penny Gillespie, who has been caring for the cat since she was found in a back garden,

And a self beclaimed animal behavioural expert.

Claire Guest, an animal behavioural expert, warned of the danger of colouring animals.

'My feeling would be that if she was a very bright colour other animals might react to her differently because anything based on red is an alarm colour in nature,' she said.

If my experience of cats counts for anything. Any creature threatening a cat is in for a nasty shock. 

Lets just wait though to see if the RSPCA are good to their word.

The M25 Motorway

A classic case of redundant design, this motorway actually goes nowhere. It is in some respects verification of Einstein's Theory of General Relativity in that, if you drive along it for long enough, you return to your starting point.

It was designed to divert traffic from driving across London and lorries were banned in the metropolis during the day in an attempt to move them onto this road. This was a brilliant plan apart from one small but significant flaw - there wasn't enough room for the traffic that wanted to use it.

Add to this the activities of the Cone Fairy and the recipe for disaster was complete. However, some planner who is obviously some kind of lateral genius or an abuser of mind-altering substances came up with the idea of lowering the speed limit in order to increase the speed of traffic.

Against all logic, this worked.

There are those who say that, when looked at from above, the shape of the M25 is a demonic sigil. This of course is completely wrong - Satan's just not that clever.

Smoking on a ship.

Ten years ago I served on the Royal Fleet Auxiliary (RFA) ship “Fort George”. This type of vessel was configured to carry a cargo of ammunition, fuels which included diesel and aviation spirit (Avcat), and dry stores. There was no smoking allowed on the open decks for the obvious reason that there could be pockets of inflammable gases.

That last bit always had me slightly bemused as the ship’s original fit was to have included a vertical launch anti air, missile system situated in the middle of the ship (The silo is still there, they just ran out of money). Imagine firing a metre long projectile with a white hot tail of incandescent gas smack bang through the ship’s gas envelope. If you were the enemy you’d only need to pretend to attack. Your target would self destruct for you.

I digress.The then smoking rules allowed you to smoke anywhere inside the Accommodation, Office areas, the Bridge and the MCR (Machinery Control Room). 

Slowly but insidiously change happened. Firstly smoking in multiple occupancy offices were banned. Next came a ban on smoking in alleyways, and the MCR and the Bridge. After that smoking in bars was outlawed if food was served. FFS, that was snuck in because we had packets of crisps on sale.

And finally we were not allowed to smoke in our own cabins in case the steward sued over passive smoking. (Yes, Officers still had stewards). That was the final straw for me. I could have worked on, but instead I thought Sod you and retired. (Which I don’t regret as the march of regulation was bordering on the farcical).

The point of this post is, If you remember my first paragraph about no smoking on deck, you’ll be as bemused as me that the only place where smoking is allowed now, is a designated area on the open deck.

What really pisses me off is that in all the conflicts I’ve been involved in, (Aden, the Falklands, Gulf wars one and two and Angola) passive smoking would be the last thing on anyone’s mind.

But Hey, we live in a world of irrational fear.

In a nut shell political correctness trumps health and safety.

*Lights up ciggy*

Bill Stickers Will Be Prosecuted

Just defending Bill who had to flee the UK.

The scene is quite familiar. A small, non-franchised shop on the high street that was there yesterday suddenly ceases to exist. Any clues as to its previous use are quickly removed, and old, yellowed pages of newspaper spontaneously appear in the window, blocking any view of the interior. You look upwards to see that an 'A1/A3 business to let/buy' sign now juts out from the first floor of the building, but this does little to explain what suddenly seems like the end of an era. Legend has it that this 'A1/A3 business' business is to do with the property's licenses but, since you're not au fait with such things, it doesn't really help. Most people would give up and walk away at this point, but you decide to take a closer look and are rewarded with the cryptic message:

Bill Stickers Will Be Prosecuted.

Has the shop's owner done something particularly dastardly? When will the court hearing be? Did he actually look like a Bill in the first place? Further inspection reveals that someone has scrawled 'Bill Stickers is innocent' underneath. You are intrigued, and head off to tell your friends about it – maybe you can start a campaign to save the poor fellow. Unfortunately, they all laugh at you, and you spend the next fortnight answering enquiries as to the welfare of 'your mate Bill'.

Having endured for more than a century, this sort of confusion was thankfully ended by a move towards using the phrase 'Stick No Bills', though gullible individuals may as a result wonder why anyone would want to attach grown men to a shop window. Alternatives such as 'Post No Bills' may prove even more confusing, and it is likely that an ideal solution to the matter is still a long way off.

How To Appreciate Solitary Drinking

Carrying on from how to avoid Chuggers, I bring you a further pearl of wisdom.

Mrs F E is working late.

 

Many people like to drink alcohol. Some do it for fun, some do it for social reasons and some even (believe it or not) just use it as an excuse to go down the pub and watch the game on the big screen. But there are some who do it alone. Solitary drinking can be a wonderful experience, and the following steps may inspire you (as a sensible drinker) to appreciate the joys of drinking alone.

The Recommended Schedule of Events

• When shopping for indulgences or intellectual matter (eg, the latest Salman Rushdie tome, of which you may have no intention of reading) make an impromptu visit to a cheap back street off-licence and buy two of the following recommended alcoholic drinks: wine (red or white, but not the expensive kind, that's just silly), beer (almost any type will do), vodka (and a mixer if you wish) or gin (if you're feeling especially emotional).

• On returning home, make sure you are alone. This may involve causing a rift between you and your spouse, partner, friends or family so that they leave. All methods are perfectly acceptable, and the resulting self-loathing will benefit you later in the night.

• Commence drinking at roughly 7pm. Do not commence drinking earlier, as this could result in alcohol abuse. If you need to cook in order to eat, this should be done before 7pm to avoid burns and other injuries, but eating while drinking is perfectly acceptable. In fact, it is highly recommended that you consume something you never normally would from the fridge; a 'nantwich' is perfect. Douglas Adams' The Meaning of Liff explains a nantwich as,

  'a late-night snack, invented by the Earl of Nantwich, which consists of the dampest thing in the fridge, pressed between two of the driest things in the fridge. The Earl, who lived in a flat in Clapham, invented the nantwich to avoid having to go shopping'.

• Roughly an hour and-a-half into your drinking session, remove an item of clothing. Trousers are the preference for men, but women fluctuate between garments and changing into sparser, more inappropriate clothing. Men can also indulge in this, but do make sure you definitely are alone. People don't want to see all that hair and saggy bits.

• Watch an educational programme by the BBC. Key presenters of such viewing delights are: Stephen Fry, Richard Attenbourgh, David Attenbourgh, Jeremy Paxman or Michael Palin. Snigger throughout.

• Watch a romantic comedy (something by Richard Curtis is recommended). All forms are acceptable. Men may have to find suitable material in the film collection of a wife, girlfriend or female friend.

• By about 10.30pm, return to a bad habit. Smoking, illicit viewing, mild drug habit, flicking to the dirty bits in novels, cross-dressing, or snooping though the wife/husband's, girlfriend/boyfriend's, or female/male friend's possessions are all popular choices.

• After running out of booze, search for, and consume the bottle of hazelnut liqueur you bought on that French holiday two years ago.

• Embarrass yourself via mobile phone text, email or online community/social networking website.

• Collapse in a front of the television. It is vital that it is left on a channel that will later, when a companion returns, be showing pornography or reality TV.

There, that should help you fill an otherwise uneventful night. Bottoms Up!