Mostly Bollogs, I'm afraid

But occasionally, a glimmer of truth.
If you find one, please let me know.

Thursday, 22 December 2011

Early Years

It is said that what happens to you in early years shapes your future behaviour.

I dug out this pic of me with my babysitter.

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Tuesday, 20 December 2011


Royal Mail. At the Post Office.

Oh yes. You can take a parcel, they weigh it. They charge you "special delivery", in my case, £22.70, for a package, and guarantee it by 1 p.m. the next day.

You go on the website, and put in your reference number. Up until EXACTLY 1 p.m. it says that they "expect to deliver it by the guaranteed time."

AT EXACTLY 1 p.m., the message changes to "Your item with reference xxx is currently progressing through our network."

Now. I am eligible to get the money back. Which I will.

I am also eligible to pursue them for gross misrepresentation of their service.

They THINK that they are immune to this because they are HUGE and I am small.

Dearest Royal Mail. You so seriously need to reconsider this stance. You really have no idea.

You will lose. Ignominiously.

Wednesday, 14 December 2011


Got a bit bored writing a CV so here's a business plan. You may wish to use it.

1. Be a bit thick.
2. Join the Labour Party.
3. Eat pies.
4. Talk shit.
5. Get elected in somewhere a bit naff where they'll vote for a donkey with a red rosette.
6. Punch one of your constituents in the face.
7. Shag your PA.
8. Lose a General Election.
9. Become a Lord.
10. Get a load of followers on twitter and think that's somehow connected to reality.

Hope this plan helps you.

Thursday, 8 December 2011

The Pope is praying for the Euro. Jesus H Mohammed Christ on a Bike.

Those of you familiar with the shite I come out with will be aware that I know nothing about anything. I admit that.

What I hate is people who say they know stuff, and know fuck all.

The European Union was ostensibly to discourage future wars. Bollocks.

I'll tell you how to discourage future wars. What you do is say "war is shite, let's not do it, eh?" and that's the job done.

Now I'll tell you how to piss people off unless they're German. What you do is try to control them, to make them speak languages they don't understand, change their currency, make laws for them and tell them what to do.

I've had enough of this shit. I have REALLY had enough of this shit.

So, dear fucking Pope, just piss off, play with your beardy Sky Fairy, kiss the ground, and talk to your gullible fucktards in Latin. I'm not buying it.



Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Differences between the way white people and black people think for the benefit of EDL cunts and Nemmy


On the twelfth day of Christmas, according to my timeline on Twitter, my true love gave to me:

Twelve Lefties whining
Eleven Righties gloating
Ten Norks a-wobbling
Nine Ladies flirting
Eight blokes a-hoping
Seven plumbers plumbing
Six traders trading
Five IT Geeks
Four Undertakers
Three French Peeps
Two Spartaci
And a lawyer by the name of Art Li.

Unlikely, I know, anywhere apart from on Twitter.

Tuesday, 6 December 2011


I read a story in the Telegraph. Apparently a couple of people kicked someone's head in. I'm not going to re-read it, this is what I read and remember.

The judge said that the people who did the kicking were Muslims and therefore not used to alcohol, and gave them a suspended sentence. I believe they were Somalians.

That is all I need to know. I don't give a fuck if they were Martians who weren't used to drinking sour cream. They could be English WHITE people who weren't used to drinking alcohol.

What is fucking WRONG is that this country is bent, broken, and buggered, if ONE judge can decide that because someone isn't used to alcohol he can go round kicking people because he's decided to give it a go.

You know what's even more wrong? I'll tell you. What's SERIOUSLY WRONG is that someone can decide that because I think that this is wrong, they can tell me that WHITE people kick OTHER people on a day to day basis and get away with it, and call me a fucking racist.

I don't know what colour Somalians are. I know they're pirates, that's all. And as far as Muslims not driniking goes ... HA HA HA HA HA.



I give up sometimes. I'm going to get pissed. I might kick someone.



If there's one thing more annoying than tweet theft it's being given the opportunity to put one's thoughts into writing without having the ability to do so properly.

Anyone can use twitter innit and its like txt an u can make it shorter so itll fit.

I'm just an olde-fashioned penguin, not an English teacher. However, penguins get teasy when they see "to" and "too" mixed up. And no, it isn't dyslexia, nor are you thick; it's a lack of education. Not your fault, nor mine.

Here is a handy Pengy guide to the difference between two, too and to.

TWO is a number. 2. Both. A pair. It is never anything else. The animals went in to the ark, two by two, too.

Nobody gets this wrong.

TOO means AS WELL, ALSO. IN ADDITION. It also means more than that, as in TOO much, TOO many, if it's anything to do with making things big or bigger, it's TOO.

TO is anything else. No, really. It's called a function word. Sod it. Like to eat, to drink, to be merry. Stupid language. Anyway, you know when you need to use "to", because if you said "I'm going go the doctor" it would sound silly, and it's "I'm going TO go TO the doctor". TO GO is the verb. Stupid verb. TO the doctor indicates movement TOWARDS the doctor. A smack TO the head. I work 9 TO 5.

Now you haven't got an excuse. You're not thick, you're not dyslexic. And now you're educated.

Be careful, I'm watching you.

And I expect at least two of you to watch me, too.

Monday, 5 December 2011


Twitter is useless.

I asked a question yesterday. It was

"If I have a spirit which is 38% and one which is 15%, what proportions do I need to mix it to get 20%?"

Reason: I had some blackcurrant gin which was 20% alcohol and I ran out. I had a bottle of gin and a bottle of cassis, 38% and 15% respectively. And I had man flu so I couldn't work it out.


Clearly, you need to put more of the 15% in to get to 20% from 38%.


(38 +15x)/(x+1) =20.

38 + 15x = 20x + 20

38 - 20 = 20x - 15x

18 = 5x

x = 18/5

18 cassis to 5 gins, or 3 and 3/5, or pretty much 7 to 2.

But it is clear from the above that if you substitute H for 38 (high content) and L for 15 (low content), and T for 20 (target content), you get

(H + Lx)/(x+1)=T

H + Lx = Tx + T

H - T = Tx - Lx

H - T = x(T - L)

The proportion is then given by

(H - T)/(T - L)


There. That's 2 minutes of your life that you won't get back.

Wednesday, 30 November 2011


A thing is happening, in the environs of that London, on the 12/1/12. Thursday.

Do register your interest by filling in the comment thingy down there vvvv with your Twitter handlage.

I can't say what it is yet. But I will. And I'll make sure you know.

Beer is involved, obviously.

Oh, OK, it's a piss up. But there's a better-than-usual reason.

Dear Pengy


Many thanks for the summary, which I have to say I agree with in full  (and will state that when I share the document).

If you have no objections, I would like to share it all with both Carl & Phil (as well as Jim's new boss).

I would again like to express my personal sadness at the ending of our association.  

Whilst I think you've summarised yourself very well in your note (your words ! ! ) ...... you've not sold yourself well enough on your knowledge, experience, capability and abilities. Not just because it's now, but I have always said you are without equal the best process control engineer I have ever had the good fortune to work with and for me it's been an absolute pleasure to have been able to experience working with you.  

I hope that the future is good to you, and I also hope that our paths cross again ... hopefully sooner rather than later.

Best regards,


Tuesday, 29 November 2011


My 10 y/o told me earlier that the teachers are striking because the government is trying to take away their pensions, just like Mrs Thatcher stole their milk.

"Oh, really?" I enquired.

What I really meant was this.

Mrs Fucking Schoolteacher, you chose your profession. I'm sure your pension is under threat, even though there are people who work 48 fucking weeks of the year and work hard too, who retire when they're 65, and I'm sure they'd love the world fucking cruises that you're going on when you jack it all in.

And, furthermore, Mrs Fucking Schoolteacher, your job is to teach my kid English and Sums and History and Shit. I let you get away with PSH Fucking E because it's in the National Curriculum (it's government propaganda, for those who don't know).

What your job ISN'T is shoving your fucking political views down my kids' throats.

I may well turn up with my friend the Enlightener to your picket tomorrow. If you're lucky I'll be in a good mood and bring hot soup.

Be lucky.

Thursday, 24 November 2011


Next Wednesday's Skool Programme

0900-0915 BACON
0915-0930 Physical exercise. It fucking hurts.
0930-0945 Recovery and tea.
0945-1000 Maths.
1000-1030 More Maths. How to do it properly. BODMAS. Hundreds, tens, units.
1030-1100 Even More Maths. WHY you need to know.
1100-1115 BACON
1115-1200 Physical exercise. Properly, this time. You fat fuckers.
1200-1300 Lunch. Cook or starve.
1300-1400 English. No, not American, English.
1400-1500 Break for those who can speak English. Beatings for those who can't.
1500-1530 Smoke break.


Dear Mr [name removed]

Accept this as notice that I expect my fees to be refunded for [name removed] guitar lessons.

Not only am I disappointed in the quality and content of the programme, but also I cannot cope with the political influence which you have directed at her through your blind, inconsiderate action in participating in the November 30th strike.

I shall be conveying my thoughts in no uncertain terms to the Council for whom you work, the Chairman of which I have just spoken to, in the pub.

I wish you well. You will need these good wishes.



Wednesday, 23 November 2011


Here is an extract from Premier Foods in-house magazine.

And here is their share chart for that period, in which this fuckwit was in charge.

Thursday, 17 November 2011


Right, toads.

I'm not giving too much away, but I spent 15 long years in brainwashing. I KNOW about it. Trust me. Push me as far as you like, I'm saying nothing. But trust me, I know the difference between what makes people believe you and what makes people want to die for you. I can see it in a heartbeat.

I've seen Nigel Farage in action. He isn't saying what he says for effect. He isn't saying it because he wants the job. He's saying it because he knows that what he says is thought by many, many people.

I am one of those people.

Go, Mr Farage. Go go go.

Wednesday, 16 November 2011


I am seriously unhappy about the way this project is being bulldozed in, seemingly to protect someone's reputation.
There are no safety features incorporated in it, and even if it is bodged in this afternoon I'm not sure it will be done properly, the safety protocol isn't a five-minute job.
If someone is hurt, or worse, during the night, then I fear that someone will go to jail for criminal negligence.
It won't be me, which is why I'm putting this in an email.
Regards - Pengy



Brilliant business plan. I know you'll like it and want to get involved.

All I ask from you is some money. Doesn't need to be much, maybe a couple of grand a year each.

What do you get for it? Well, for a start, we'll build some pretty neat buildings, on lakes, in cities around the place. We'll need to employ quite a few people and, I suspect, grease a few palms to get it kicked off. That'll give us an air of legitimacy. Then we'll set up a framework, and get things nicely under control.

We'll use the money wisely though; obviously to keep our position in the marketplace we'll need to engineer things so that we look good.

Trust us, when all this has been worked through it will be better for ALL.


Send money (cash, please), to

The Chief Accountant
The European Union

You won't be disappointed.


I work for a huge organisation.

I work in one of the biggest factories in that huge organisation.

I pointed out to them some years ago that there was something lurking in their system that was going to bite them on the arse one day. I explained what it was, and what needed to be done in order to prevent it from biting them. I costed the solution and it came to £60,000. It was actually £10,000 but I factored in a fair bit of contingency, downtime, meetings and a fortnight on the piss, and expected them to knock it down to £30,000.

They responded accordingly and had meeting after meeting after meeting, whereupon it was decided that they should virtually rebuild the factory.

They assigned contractors by the dozen. Three years, and £2,500,000 later, the arse-biting thing is still there, they have had more downtime than ever, the new system still doesn't work.

People have egg on their faces. Last night they ran the new system all night, for the first time, produced virtually nothing, and today had a meeting where it was declared that "the project ran for 24 hours".

Does that sound scary? It does to me. The "project". Fuck the project. It's a factory. It makes things which we sell to make profits and pay people. But no, all that matters is the "project".

Just like the EU.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011


I heard a thing on the radio this morning, about a transgendered person (I think) who was 60. Very interesting, poor thing. Anyway, the interviewer mentioned cognitive dissonance and, as I like big words, I looked it up.

It is a discomfort caused by holding conflicting ideas simultaneously.

Anyway, I had just bought a can of faux-red-bull, which is 35p, from the local shop. Eric, who runs the shop, is not really very well, he's getting on a bit. His counter is covered in post in brown envelopes.  At least one is from The VAT Hounds.

The 35p includes VAT at 20% so Eric has to enter the sale of goods somewhere and HMRC (spits) get 6p. At the end of the month all this has to be added up, and no doubt an accountant is paid handsomely to look at it, and the total amount has to be paid to the governments coffers.

I understand why there needs to be 6p given to the coffers. It's because there are people who, through no fault of their own, need financial support. Disabled people, for instance. I probably can't think of any others. And we probably need some sort of NHS and some sort of roads. So I have that idea in my head.

I have another idea in my head. That idea is that a bunch of lunatics decided that there should be a continent in which a pile of disparate economies should have two presidents and the same currency. Both of these ideas are stupid and I don't let them affect me. But then, as the idea slips quietly into the chasm of stupidity, the Supreme Rulers of this paradigm decide that in one last-ditch attempt at keep their bizarre creation alive with a life-support machine of which Frankenstein would have been proud, they decide to throw 1,450,000,000 of these silly Euros at it. It broke the fall for a couple of days, but it's now on its course to oblivion.

Some poor sod has to sell 24,000,000,000 cans of faux-red-bull for these bastards to do this. That's a whole lot of fun someone could have had instead of filling in a line on a ledger or keying in a stupid number on a computer.

This isn't the way the world should be.

Poor Eric.

Someone's taking the fucking piss, that's all I can say.

Monday, 7 November 2011


Is this just me being bah humbug?

I was in a restaurant on Saturday, which had pissed me off already by changing the menu between my choosing what I wanted and my order being taken, and I had to go without lobster, so maybe I over reacted.

But on the table there was a small card, which I took, and which I have since lost, saying how a quid would be added to my bill unless I took it off, which meant that I'd have to notice this card.

The card is for StreetSmart - Helping the Homeless. It is "sponsored" by DeutscheBank, which means their advertising is all over the stuff, which means that restaurants everywhere are advertising whoever the fuck DeutscheBank are, for nothing.

Stephen Fry is on the inside cover.

Let me tell you, DeutscheBank could contribute MORE than StreetSmart make, out of petty cash, and set it against tax. In a heartbeat.

So I crossed off the quid from the bill. Then went outside and gave the Big Issue seller a twenty quid note and told him to get a B&B for the night. He probably bought drugs.

Fucks' sake. Deutsche anything can fuck off. So can Santander.


The M5 crash on Friday midnight was tragic. Seven dead, many injured.

Our esteemed Plod are now treating it as criminal because some smoke from a bonfire may have drifted across the road. Or something.

Let me explain.

The M5 is a three-lane motorway. It's designed to have a thing called traffic on it. That's cars and vans and lorries. They go from A to B.

Sometimes it doesn't work out, sometimes one of the traffic is tired, bent out of shape after an argument, distracted, even drunk. Sometimes one of the traffic has an MOT from a country in the EU that will give you an MOT for a Euro even if the wheels are in the boot. When one of the traffic misbehaves, it can cause a crash. Usually all the other traffic stops and everybody gets cross until Plod have cleared up the mess.

Sometimes it's worse. Sometimes a lot of the traffic is tired. This tends to happen at midnight.

It's a bastard for those involved, the families, everyone.

Learn. Keep your distance. Assume everyone else on the road is tired, cross, distracted, drunk, stupid, incompetent, homicidal, and that their wheels are just about to fall off. And assume you're the biggest twat of the lot. I know I am.

It's not worth trying to get there two minutes earlier. It really isn't.

Stay safe. Please.


My mum has gone to a nursing home.

She has this:

You don't want this. There are a load of big words in there which are chiefly euphemisms for shit, more shit, and even more shit.

I haven't got a mum any more.

Where is Harold Shipman when you need him?

If I had one of "those" pills I'd give it to her.

Friday, 4 November 2011


Why the government are targetting UNISON - and why UNISON need to take responsibility

The government promised to sort out the economy. There are many ways in which they could do that; unfortunately most of them rely on a stream of money coming in from people who don't have the confidence to provide it. Those people are too busy licking their wound from the Euro fiasco and they're very probably looking to get a mighty return on their investment to compensate.

One other way is for British Industry to get off its backside and start making things that other people want, but so many obstacles, both financial and administrative, are in the way. Perhaps removing these would be a start?

The cheap and easy way is to spend less. Again, one way to do that is to stop propping up dodgy economies like Greece’s, but for reasons I cannot fathom that is not an option. I suspect that Merkel and Sarkozy have kidnapped Cameron’s children, or something.

So, that leaves cuts.

Cutting spend means cutting jobs.

UNISON members are public sector workers paid for by the private sector. The private sector are people who do things that other people want to pay for, such as manufacturing, banking, finance, services, etc. The public sector do things that people have to have, like emptying bins, teaching children, nursing, doctoring, etc.

In the private sector, if a company doesn’t keep to its budgets, it goes bankrupt and everybody is out of a job.

In the public sector, if a company doesn’t keep to its budgets, tax goes up and their budgets are increased.

When the tax paid by the private sector drops below the cost of the public sector, then either more tax needs to be paid, or borrowing needs to increase, or cuts have to be made.

Cuts have to be made. UNISON is the biggest union, and to achieve financial stability, the government have to either pay everyone in it less, or lay some off.

Union leaders are being paid more than the Prime Minister, so they have an interest in appearing to support their members. The government won’t negotiate, because there is nothing to negotiate over, therefore the unions strike because that is their only recourse.

But this is madness. When the union workers are on strike, they are not being paid. This only exacerbates their agony and anger, and attracts the ire of the public whose service are being cut and who being inconvenienced. The union bosses, however, are still being paid, and the union dues are still payable. Genius, isn’t it?

UNISON need to take responsibility. They need to start by assessing any possibilities of their members taking early retirement, changes of job, retraining, etc. They need to work WITH the government. That won’t happen. They wouldn’t even work with a faux-Labour government under Blair and Brown, so there is no chance of it happening with well-heeled self-sufficient, nay rich, sons of bankers and Eton.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011


This is what has happened in Greece.

It is probably utter cock, which is why I'm writing it. Please let me know what is wrong here?

I am not an economist.

Greece is in debt. It owes money to people. I think these people are mainly China. They have lent Greece money (rather a lot of it) and they thought that Greece would pay it back, plus some more money, which is called "interest".

Greece can't pay it back because they have spunked it on buying votes for the government, by telling people everything is wonderful and they can retire at 55.

There were two options. The sensible one would have been to say "whoops" and then the people who lent the money would have gone "oh bollocks" and that would be that. The value of your investment can go down as well as up.

The second option, which is a bit daft, is the one they chose. Greece (via the EU) say "look, if you voluntarily accept a 50% haircut, we'll pay you back." This means that for every Quid/Euro/Drachma/Yen/ChineseThing the people lent them, half of it goes in the bin, and Greece will, one day (snork) pay back the other half, with interest. And the interest rate is HUGE.

They key is voluntary. Without voluntary Greece is bankrupt and under the rules of bankruptcy the lender can either fuck off or take the whole of Greece and ship to to China or somewhere. Expensive. Not worth it.

Here is the bit I have trouble with. Having done this haircutting, instead of Greece being about 60% short of being able to pay, they are no only 20% short.

So they're fucked.

Hope this has been of interest to one and all.

Thursday, 20 October 2011


In the light of revelations by Cameron, Clegg and Miliband that the will of the British people is not of any interest to them, because they know better, I would like to say just one thing.

Lots of cleverer bloggers than me, and even some politicians like Nigel Farage, and many of the press, have put the arguments both lucidly and succinctly, so I won't even try to do better.

This is my message to them. Just this.



You do not represent me, nor anyone else in this fair isle. As far as I'm concerned, you can just fuck RIGHT off.


Monday, 17 October 2011


I have, of course, nicked the title from the film with that bird who gets her Norks out a lot.

Nothing to do with that though.

I went to the theatre on Saturday afternoon to see a play called "Three Days in May" which was about Churchill, and his mates Lord Wotsit, Neville Thing, and the Two Labour Blokes.

It was a good play. It's about what may or may not have happened in the three days in May in 1940 which Churchill conveniently brushed under the carpet in his "history" of WWII. Where the French say they'll surrender, and eat more cheese, and Mussolini says he'll recommend to the Germans that they leave us all alone, as long as Britain says "yeah, all right then."

May have happened. Luckily Churchill told them to fuck off.

In the interval the lady next to me said "I remember all this like it was yesterday." I think she could. She was about 85.

I said to lady "Isn't it such a shame that it didn't make any difference, now we're ruled by Germany and France?"

"Eh?" she enquired.

"The EU." quoth I.

"Oh, yes. I have heard of it. It doesn't really register with me. What have they done?" she asked, innocently.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."


Friday, 14 October 2011


The iPhone 4GS.

God. I am such a naive Penguin.

They're not queueing up to buy it. I thought they were, because mine is a bought one (no, it's an olde-fashioned 3GS my old boss bought for me).

They're queueing up to RENT it. Our lad at work, who is separated and on about £12k a year including shift allowance, tells me his ex has one. It costs £45 per MONTH. And you have it for 3 YEARS. And that costs £1,620. Yes, you can make some calls on it for that money, and send some txt, and have some internets. His ex does not work. He pays her maintenance because they had a child. And she spends it on THAT.

Jesus. I believe mine cost £400 (probably less). I pay £2 a week to TESCO (spits) which gives me loads of calls and shit, and sometimes they top it up a bit more so I have about £100 credit on it, fuck knows why. Might be a mistake.

Someone tell me what the actual fuck the world is made of? I am lost.


Here is the Pengy diet.

Eat when you're hungry.

If you eat lots of MacDonalds you will die.

You will die anyway.

Thursday, 13 October 2011


The EU explained for idiots.

If you know this already, fuck off.

If you don't, read it. If you don't see it as a problem, go back to your telly and fuck off.

If you think it's about time something was done, for fuck's sake tell me what.

The EU, European Union was meant to stop wars in Europe after that cunt Hitler kicked off last time.

OK so far? Right. Countries signed up to it. The UK did, having told the plebs (you) that it was all to do with cheap fish and cheese, so you did, you gullible twats. Still, that's done.

In 1992, the Maastricht Treaty (so-called because it was signed in Maastricht, a shithole in Belgium) was signed on our behalf by John Major, who didn't ask anyone else apart from MPs who mainly said "no". That gave the EU more power. Denmark said no, in a vote, so they had another vote, until they said "yes".

The EU like power. They like control. Find a picture of the cunt von Rompuy and tell me he isn't the Emperor off of Star Wars.

In 1995 the EU made a special money called the Euro. That meant they could control money too. Brilliant.

Anyway, they didn't have enough power. So they had another treaty (treaties are like a new set of powers that they like to give themselves). It was called the Lisbon Treaty (so-called because it was signed in Lisbon, in Portugal). The Irish asked their people to vote for this. They said "no". So they voted again, until they said "yes". This was in 2009.

Another load of power. Now, folk, the thing with power is it's a drug. Once you have it, you need more. Like any other addictive drug.

Now they realise they've fucked up majorly by trying to bring expensive countries (Germany) in line with the cheap ones (Greece). They forget to mention that Greece's accounts were bent as a nine-bob note, but because people in the EU should have seen it coming, it got swept under the carpet.

So they need another treaty. So they can rob countries of money (well, not countries, more you and me, really), so they can prop it up. And it will happen, again and again and again. This treaty is called the ... actually, I have no idea. I don't care. I know Slovakia voted "no". So they made them vote again until they said "yes".

So you know as much as me now. It sounds simple, because it is.

Any ideas?


Women are up in arms that they're not going to be retiring 5 years earlier than men.

And they're protesting.


THERE IS NO FUCKING MONEY. And the CHIIILLDREN aren't going to be earning it either.

You've been told for years. Actuaries (the pen pushers who work out who long you'll live and how much it costs) have been telling Blair since he got in. He said "la la la".

Now, for fuck's cunting shitridden sake will you cunts get a fucking grip on reality and shut the ACTUAL FUCK UP?

Shit happens.

And Cameron, grow a fucking pair, and make this HAPPEN.

Jesus H Christ.


Tuesday, 11 October 2011


This is what I'd do if I was PM for one day.

Barroso, von Rompuy: Sod off. That's it. No, no discussion. Bye.

Banks: the value of your gambling can go down as well as up. Live with it. Ditto investors, shareholders.

Income tax. Bye.

HMRC. Bye.

Petrol will be three quid a gallon and will fund everything. Get stuck in.

Whitehall: Bye.

We drive on the left, we speak English, we do not do war. OK? Good.

Those who lent the country money under previous misguided regimes: Whoops.

Entrepreneurs: start a healthcare scheme, please, also bin emptying services, recycling, anything you like. Also, car parking is free. Sorry, NCP. Find another way. Maybe wash the cars.

There is no council tax, for there is no council. Bye.

Nurses, teachers, other useful types: the entrepreneurs will look after you.

See what happens, eh?

Any questions?


If you're skint you'll be fed.

Farmers. Grow what you like. You know more about it than I do.

Gays: you can marry who you like, where you like. It's nothing to do with me. Wear a fucking dress if you want.

Any more questions?

Monday, 10 October 2011


Hey ho.

I'm British. Unlike half the fucking government. is the wonderful citizenship test devised by Martians. It's pants.

Here's my one.

I think you'll agree it is more useful.

  1. How do you spell GUINNESS?
    a) like that
    b) not like that
  2. What shape is a football?
    a) spherical
    b) square
  3. What is the European Union?
    a) a scam
    b) a distant galaxy
  4. What is BEER made of?
    a) hops and malt
    b) milk
  5. What is Belgium famous for?
    a) chocolate and chips
    b) a really good government
  6. What are apples and pears?
    a) stairs
    b) a rubbish fruit salad
  7. Curry is ...
    a) good
    b) bad
  8. Complete the sentence: "An apple a day"
    a) keeps the doctor away
    b) is one of your five
  9. Tony Blair left because
    a) he ran out of money and saw the shit hitting the fan
    b) Gordon was his big mate and he wanted him to have a go
  10. David Cameron can Fuck Off.
    a) true
    b) false

mostly a: you are British.

mostly b: you are clearly some kind of cunt.

Thursday, 29 September 2011


Force is an influence that will cause an object to change in some way. It is something you apply to an object.

It may change its properties, such as velocity (speed/direction) or, if it is immoveable, its shape.

An object at rest, that is having no forces applied to it, will remain in its natural state. If you wish to change its properties, then you apply forces.

Force requires energy. You cannot just have a force acting on an object to move it from its natural state without applying energy.

If the energy runs out, the object will return to its natural resting state.

If you apply too much force, the object will break.

These are some of the problems facing engineers.

The Euro is an object.


I just wanted to say this.

When I was in Alsace last year I went to the war museum. Alsace was taken over by Germany during WWII, being on the border, and cards were put through every door saying (in French) "You are Germans now. Your cry will be Heil Hitler."

The cards had a smiley face on them.

I think the French in Alsace, almost to a man, were thinking (in French) "You can shove that RIGHT up your arse, Adolf."

Yesterday, Jose Manuel Barosso, President of the EU, said "There is nothing wrong with the EU. People just won't do what they're told."

I say, Jose, "You bet your sweet bippy, matey."

I am not alone.

Tuesday, 27 September 2011


A lady, I do not know her name, is to be subjected to ten lashes.

This is what 10 lashes looks like.

Regardless of what you may think, there are laws which need to be changed. One is to do with tweeting about airports. There are many more.

A lady, whose name I do know, Ashtiani, was "got off" by the power of Twitter.

I can be offensive. I will continue to be so.


PC is what ensures that one does not say anything which might make a difference.

God, what is UP with you people?

King Abdullah, of Saudi Arabia, will not commute (or whatever the fucking word is) the "sentence" of the lady who DROVE a CAR. She will be lashed. And not in a good way.

WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK will you not say what you think? I have been slagged off for being racist, religionist. For FUCK'S SAKE.

When did this thing come in where you have to kowtow, to draw the FUCKING LINE, so that nothing you say matters any more?

Jesus, girls.

King Abdullah is holding the entire state to ransom in the name of religion. Argue. He is subjecting a woman who DARED to do something about this shit to TEN LASHES.

If I say raghead, Allah, cunt, Fucktard, 18th Century I get slagged off.

Look. These people live in the dark ages.

What the actual fuck is going on here?

If someone wants to put me right, do.

If not, I'm saying raghead, coon, wog, nutjob, anything you fucking like.

Get in,.


Thursday, 22 September 2011


A week in the life of Troy Davis.


Not hungry. Been cooped up in here for twenty years. They're tried to kill me three times already. I didn't do it.


Still not hungry. Still didn't do it.


Not hungry. Getting a bit worried now. Can't see any news, nobody seems to care.


Jesus. I think it's going ahead. NO! Hold on. They haven't done it. Thank God.





On Wednesday 21st September 2011, the part of our planet known as the United States of America executed a man called Troy Davis.

I'm not going to go into the legal stuff, the bits and pieces. All I know is that most of the civilised world think that it's dreadful. The evidence was irrefutably WRONG, and the powers-that-be, the "gods" in whose hands are people's lives, KNEW this.

I know we have cancer. We have accidents. And now we have God-playing state-interferers as well. Wonderful.

It is, to me, the end of modern civilisation.

I shall now do EXACTLY what I like.

First, though, I shall weep. For my family, for humanity, and for the future.


Wednesday, 21 September 2011


Troy Davis is going to be killed, yes killed, at midnight UK time tonight by the delivery of a lethal injection.

I'm not a lawyer. Anyone who knows me will be well aware of what I think about our legal system, let alone that of America.

He allegedly killed a cop. One of America's finest. A cop, in the Met Police Force, had pictures of my kids, because he was a paedophile. He got fuck all in the way of sentence and was out in the square root of that. He has a protected identity and a secret address. So you won't find him. His name is David Geering (I am not allowed to say this) and he had a Rover car with a personal plate. Which I know. If I were him, I'd be shitting myself. He was as guilty as sin.

Anyway, nuff said. Cops are not all good, or bad. I was one. They are people. You shouldn't kill them.

I know nothing, NOTHING, about Troy Davis. He's black. He's probably disadvantaged, who fucking knows? Who cares?

If he killed the cop, then I'm not sure I agree or disagree with the death sentence.

What I DO know is this: the evidence isn't strong enough to hang your hat on. And if there's ONE shred of "not sure" running through this, then there is NO WAY he should be killed. Terminated. Executed.


And, if there is a God, I pray to that God that he speaks to Judge Penny Freesemann, the only person in the world who can save Troy (and how the fuck did THAT happen?), and helps her to do the right thing.


The Libertarians have chipped in with "we STOP the state killing people"

The British Freedom Nazis have chipped in with "what about the WHITE people who were MURDERED by BLACK people".


Friday, 16 September 2011


People are dying of starvation in Africa. It's not nice listening to the helpless screams of your undernourished child before it dies, horribly.

People are being oppressed by their own governments, all over the world.

People even in England are homeless, destitute and helpless.

I understand that the large Hardon Colander cost 4.4 BILLION quid.

It might detect the Higgs-Boson particle. But it won't. You know it won't. Apparently it either doesn't exist, or it's hiding.

Who actually gives a fuck? If it does, there's a God. Big fucking deal.

Somebody rationalise this for me, please?

Wednesday, 14 September 2011


As you will know if you're a regular reader of this shit, I'm a rampant evil racist bastard with far right leanings who thinks that it's fine to earn loads of money and choose how to spend it, rather than hand it over to the government so they can decide, badly, who they're going to spunk it on.

I also think that chaps who wear frocks in hot countries are not to be trusted, and that trying to shove together a bunch of disparate countries with no common currency, language or even culture is a pretty stupid idea.

I like to travel a lot, when I can. I go to all sorts of strange places. I am old, and was brought up in a "Christian" country, and I wear trousers. And speak English.

I drink beer and smoke fags. And I eat pork.

If I go to an "Islamic" country, I don't drink beer (except in Turkey where they will serve it to you in a twenty metre radius of a mosque in a Coke cup as long as you pay cash and don't tell anyone). And I don't eat pork. You can't, unless you bring in your own pig. And the airlines have trouble with that.

If I go to a "Buddhist" or "Hindu" country, I don't drink beer except what I can get in bottles in the hotels, and I don't eat any sort of meat because I don't trust it. In fact, I have no idea what I'm getting because it written in squiggles, and you eat it with your fists (pretty much like up north).

I don't want to live in those countries. They don't fit what I want.

I don't mind if frock-wearing chaps with towel hats want to live in England. Not at all. As long as they want to speak English and live like English people live. We have laws, made by asshats mainly, which we sort of abide by. They need to abide by them, or live somewhere else. That's completely fair, it's a choice they make.

And there is really no doubt that we're going to hell in a handcart. It's because people put people on pedestals and think they must have been right, people like Keynes The Economist, who was clearly talking out of his ringpiece, but unfortunately his "theories", or as I like to call them, "horseshit" are still taught in universities around the world under the guise of "fact". That and the fact that half the country think the "left" is evil, half think the "right" is evil, and most are watching Big Fat Gypsy Wedding anyway.

Germany had a similar problem in the early 30s. I hear that inflation was running so high that people had to take their wages home in wheelbarrows, but then realised the wheelbarrow was worth more. So they voted for a government run by an Austrian bloke by the name of Hitler (he was really called Schicklgruber but that means "cuntface" in German so he changed it).

He was bonkers. But he had an eye for a nice uniform and a peculiar gait which was to be called the goosestep. Crap haircut and tache. But he was a great orator and he found a common enemy in the Jews. The Jews are a hard-working, although tight, lot, and they were pretty successful, especially when it came to moneylending and stuff. So he set the people against them, invaded Poland, became infamous, and probably spent the rest of his life in Peru or somewhere. Who knows?

Anyway, shut up Pengy.

There was a mob of what we in the 70s called the "skinheads", so called because they shaved their heads. They wore bovver boots and short trousers. They dies out eventually because they were cunts. But they used to do Paki Bashing, where you blamed pakistanis for everything. Pakistanis are a hard-working lot ... see above.

Today, there are the new skinheads. They are called the EDL. If you put all of them together in one place and added up their collective IQs, then converted it to its weight in kilos of dynamite, it wouldn't be enough to blow one of their hats off. They claim that the ragheads (an affectionate term for chaps who wear frocks and have those towelling hats) are the cause of all evil. Which they are not.

Sadly, people with those hats and often with hooks for hands and eyes missing due to an accident with explosives were responsible for blowing up some towers, the odd bus, etc. So it's easy for the idiots to target ALL of them. Muslims. Islam. I have many friends who are of Islam, i.e. are Muslims. They're a peaceable lot. Much more than "we" are. Bit bonkers IMHO, with all this religion malarkey, but then again, who isn't?

Anyway, the EDL are all over Twitter, like a shitty shirt. They use the hashtag #EDL. I'm going to troll the crap out of it today, just for fun. Feel free to join in.

Tuesday, 13 September 2011


Coo. Lee Jasper, black nationalist and socialist, has protected himself. So only he and his mates know what racist bile he's spouting today.

Lee is the chair of the London Race and Criminal Justice Consortium. As far as I can tell, that has no status more that of the Norks and Bacon Party. A bit of a laugh. Same goes for Co-chair of BARAC, Black Activists Against the Cuts. I'm the Chair of White Anarchists Not Knowing Shit.

Lee can be found on Twitter as @LeeJasper.

This is an open letter to Mr Jasper. I hope he reads it.

Dear Lee

I'm Pengy. I'm a member of the human race. I'd salute you if we had a salute, but we don't. I see you and your friends, all black, funnily enough, are on your avatar on Twitter doing the black power salute thing. Nice one.

I'm guessing your aim, apart from inciting racial hatred, is to get more black MPs into Parliament? Brilliant. Good luck with that. I'd like to get a few less lying, conniving, troughing ones in, myself. And women. Women are more straightforward than men, most weeks of the month.

Problem I have is that you, as part of the negroid "race", hate me, as part of the "Europid" race (or IC1 as I like to call it). And no, I'm not indigenously English, I was French in 1066, apparently.

Anyway, I put it to you that you're just a bloody nuisance. I'm also guessing that you get poor misguided sods to pay for you in the pursuit of your "goals". Like Bob Crow does, but you're probably not as bright as him. Easy to do, I know. Apparently people are still members of the Labour Party, headed by a brother-fucking dullwit the likes of which British Politics, indeed Britain, hasn't seen in many a good year. Same goes for the LibDems, whose leader has sold them down the river. Also the Tories, who have done nothing but lie their teeth out since they've got "THE POWER".

Anyway, young Lee. I don't like your attitude. You probably don't like mine much. I hate violence, which is a bit of a sod as I'm quite good at it.

I don't like your single-issue stance. Black, innit. I'm white, by the way, I might have said that earlier.

I'm white.

Fucking annoying, isn't it?

Now, why don't you think about working together with people, instead of trying to create an artificial divide between us, and with the Mongoloids? We're humans, Lee. All of us. I'm not more a whitey than you're a blacky, or whatever you call yourself.

I'll be in that London on Thursday. I'd be happy to shake your hand and buy you a beer. Let me know. Comments aren't moderated.

Thanks, pal.

Pengy xxx

Monday, 12 September 2011


Gemma Hayter was murdered by thugs. Some might say she was murdered by disadvantaged young people.

No, she wasn't. She was murdered by COMPLETE CUNTS. Having been tortured.

Her mother said that she didn't hate the killers and that she pitied them. I hate them. I don't pity them. Whoever the fuck thinks I should because it's not their fault is bloody well complicit.

I pity people who have a problem, with society, because they've got a disability, because they're disavantaged, because they can't cope.

I don't pity people who make someone such as Gemma, a lass with learning difficulties, drink their piss. That's premeditated. I don't give a bollocks whether it's to big themselves up. It doesn't matter. She was locked in a bog. She was beaten. She was cleaned up and dragged along. Like a fucking dog. She was cut, had a plastic bag put on her. Murdered. Stripped.

The judge, the smug, self-satisfied fucktard, said that one of them was a nasty piece of work.

I can do better. And I'm not even a judge.

ALL of the perps are subhuman, a fucking disgrace, not fit to live on any sort of planet with the rest of us. They are cunts. They are truly filth.

I'm sure someone will say they have psychological problems. All fucking FIVE of them. I don't care any more.

If this is society, if this what we are robbed for on a daily basis, this is what I would call a serious fucking malfunction. Human life is NOT sacred. Not when it's like this. Really. If this was a mixy rabbit you'd shoot its brains out.

You, dear reader, have no idea what I feel right now. NO IDEA.

If this is the society we have become, where this even gets a look-in for a spell of free telly and three square meals a day, I resign.

Now, let's have a look at the parents.

Friday, 9 September 2011


I read Cam Moron's speech on education this morning. Quite good actually.

He raises some interesting questions, then misses the point entirely.

Questions like "If Estonia can (blah blah, blah) then why can't we?"

Good question. Easy answer. His answer is to put a couple more teachers in, check spelling, punctuation and grammar, get someone else to write the speech for you then deliver it in a "we will fight them on the beaches" stylee and all will be well.

Unfortunately most children won't have read this speech, nor heard it. It wasn't screened between America's Next Top Model and The X Factor, so mine definitely won't have. And it isn't on Facebook either so far as I know. So they won't give a fuck.

I know Cam Moron doesn't give a bollocks either, because the only thing he gives a flying fuck about is whether he gets elected again, unless he's finished his book by then.

Oddly, though, if the kids do manage to get through skool with half the lessons being taken up by citizenship and obedience, they're then faced with a nine-grand a year bill for whatever they fancy doing at uni. I hope some become doctors and vets. Unfortunately these days you need a degree to be a nurse (unless you don't speak English). I imagine there's a degree course in car salesmanship.

In Estonia, they charge you a fee depending on the course you do. That's a good idea, isn't it?

Of course it is. Ask Cam Moron whether he knows this? I presume not, otherwise he wouldn't have asked such a stupid question, really, eh?

BTW. I know this about Estonia because I googled it.Cam Moron probably doesn't have Google.

Thursday, 8 September 2011


THIS is the last straw.

Our esteemed government, aka the bunch of knobheads who are supposed to be running our country, OUR country, not THEIR country, have really done it this time.

Number Ten have released a game. A fucking GAME.

I QUOTE from their Twitter timeline: @Number10Gov, the official Twitter channel for the Prime Minister's Office based at 10 Downing Street, London:

"Could you run the country? Put yourself in the hot-seat with a new online learning tool MyUK from @UKParliament"

My initial reaction was that the Downing Street cat had inadvertently composed that tweet, by accidentally stepping on the keys in the right order. That would have made sense to me. I would have been happy with that.

But no. is real. Argh. Registered to Peter Stidwill, Parliaments (sic) Education Service. Paid for by you.

And here is what it says. I'm not joking. Really.

TITLE: Create a country to call your very own. Any alarm bells ringing yet?

TAGLINE:  It's your country, your rules. Shitting your pants yet? I am.

OBJECTIVE: Choose and pass new laws, ... pursue your personal vision of the UK. Gone into cardiac arrest? No?

Then, dear, though obviously moronic reader, let me explain in a Blackadder style. *takes two fingers, pokes them in your hitherto blind eyes*

I am not a psychologist or anything. I'm just an old cunt. One who pretends not to understand very much, for I find that this makes it easier to ask people questions. But try to fathom what kind of mentality even THINKS that this sodding game is a good idea.

THEN, for FUCK'S actual sake, LOOK.

To call your very own. You absolute cunts. Words fail me. It is not YOUR OWN. It is OURS. It will never be yours. You are elected to do a fucking job of work. You gained your votes by standing by a manifesto, or, as I put it, a sack of fucking lies, NONE of which, to my knowledge, you have acted upon. Nor do you intend to.

It's your country, your rules.  No, it fucking isn't. The RULES were set in place by King John a LONG FUCKING TIME AGO, in the Magna Carta,which you all but ignore. You treasonable chamber pot of vomit.

Choose and pass new laws.  Fuck RIGHT off. You promised a bonfire of crap legislation. You have delivered exactly JACK SHIT. You have lied, cheated, wheedled and cajoled your way through the first disastrous year of a SHAM of a parliament. You have done NOTHING for ANYTHING apart from protect your own cushy jobs.

Pursue your own personal vision of the UK. Fuck RIGHT off. Then come back here and FUCK OFF again. Repeat until I'm happy that your filthy, perverted, power-driven dream of MEGALOMANIA has transformed into something like your FUCKING JOB DESCRIPTION.

You absolute bunch of greedy, deluded, spongers on the backside of the decent, honest, hard-working people of this godforsaken country.


Because there's no other way on God's earth that this shifty bunch of thieving amoral scumbags are going to leave the trough.

I feel a bit better now.

Wednesday, 7 September 2011


That's something you shouldn't talk about in a pub. That and sex and politics.

Here we go then. I'm getting a bit pissed off with people who seem to think that their view is somehow right, per se. I have a view on a lot of things, most of which I know nothing about. And I'm entitled to it. And you're entitled to call me a cunt. Carry on.

I was brought up to believe in God and Jesus and Mary and Joseph and that the only language God understands was King James English, and I think that was their biggest mistake. See, when you realise that Jesus was probably a lot darker than me and almost certainly had a big conk (I said CONK), then probably God can speak Hebrew, or Yiddish, or Latin or something. Also, there is a distinct possibility that Adam actually didn't just pop out of nowhere, and Eve probably didn't nick one of his ribs.

Having said that, I do believe, because of the force of logic and maths and stuff, that there is some sort of divine entity somewhere who probably lurks in one of the dimensions to which we ordinary mortals aren't privy, and could even be inside a dimension outside of which we find ourselves. I don't know. I'm not going to argue either.

I do think that stories about mangers and asses and donkeys and geese and wise men and kings are nice for kids. I don't give a bollocks what you think.

I also think that organised religion, the forerunner of government when it comes to brainwashing and control, is responsible for very many deaths, torture, violence and suchlike. Which is a bit shit.

I'll tell you what, though. I'm sure Nadine Dorries is genuine in her beliefs. I'm sure she really does think that aborting a foetus is murderous. She's entitled to think that. She's also entitled to your opinion, in that it's your body. Your decision to have an abortion. I've been instrumental in one. A long time ago. I'm a murderer.

What I don't believe is right is the witch-hunt attitude. Whether Nadine is a nutjob or not. OK, if the whole government is God-botheringly Christian, that scares me. But they're not. And this vote is not going to be swayed by a couple of people. Right or wrong.

Think what you like. That's what people do. But don't proselytise. It's out of order. I know many Christians, quite a few Muslims, a Buddhist, at least two Wiccans, loads of agnostics and a handful of atheists. And a Jedi. No, really. None of them are radical. None of them proselytise either. Mostly nice people (apart from the Jedi, which is me).

So, just a suggestion, why not shut the fuck up? There are important things to sort out.

I don't know WHY I mentioned geese, before you ask.

Tuesday, 6 September 2011


This is why I don't riot and loot.

I shall start by saying why I think I probably should, and why I understand people who do.

I'm a grumpy old git. This is because I was brought up when everything was evil, communists, homosexuals, drugs, everything. We were taught that. And DON'T fucking tell me we weren't, because you probably weren't there, and you have been fed a load of mishistory.

I don't think communists were ever evil, except to capitalists. I don't agree with either. I don't agree with any ist.

I probably used to be a homophobe. And a racist. And a protectionist. But I'm just a grumpy old git, and a lot of people I would call friends are poofs, black, brown, yellow, pink and even FOREIGN.

Some things have changed for the better. Some. In the process of these things changing we seem to have lost freedom of speech and freedom of choice. That annoys the hell out of me.

I often think how nice it would be if everyone woke up and realised that the people who are running the global show are only in it for themselves. But I know that won't happen, not as long as half the people in this country rely on the show for their living. Ah well. When you get to my advanced age you realise that you haven't got long before you go on the one-way trip to Switzerland (unless they make THAT illegal too). I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime I try to make as many people happy as I can, and I try to be a right fucking nuisance to those who deserve it.

I do lots of stuff. I don't have a telly, but I have loads of other things I enjoy doing, so I only ever get bored at work when I run out of Evil Plans to construct and execute.

So I half ignore the cunts, as there's so little I can do, apart from being a nuisance.

I don't riot, yet. Mainly because I have a job and kids and stuff. Also, I think the current set of turds-in-charge might put right some of the damage created by the last lot, so rioting and looting would be a bit silly, as it would probably get the other lot in again.

However, this feral underclass. I don't think they're an underclass. They're feral. Don't think they're not. Once part of society, they are now in a position where any prospect of a job has gone. They'e undereducated. They probably come from a long line of the undereducated, through no fault of their own. If you brave the streets of Wellingborough today (it's market day) you will see the next generation of the poor sods in their pushchairs outside Costa Coffee with their unemployed mums and often dads, smoking Polish cigarettes. Were these my kids I might try to engage them and teach them something and perhaps spend some of the dole money on food for them, but it doesn't go like that.

These people can't do many of the things I do to entertain myself, because they haven't been taught to. In my experience they spend a lot of time fishing, God knows how they afford the stuff, God knows they'd be better off educating themselves, but NO, it doesn't happen. It's a fact. Argue if you like, from your comfy semi somewhere.

What the fuck are they SUPPOSED to do? No job. No prospects. I know, brilliant plan! Let's say "We're all in this together" and show them by driving around in chauffeur-driven jags, claiming huge expenses, pissing money up the wall like there's no tomorrow, tell them the Olympics is on (but they can't have a ticket) and everything is wonderful. Excellent. And if that doesn't piss them right off, tell them where they can and can't smoke, what they can and can't say, tell them just in case they weren't fucked already that Uni is going to cost them ten years wages and won't give them a job anyway.

Yep. That'll work.

Now fuck off,Clarke, you huge throbbing bellend.


Tuesday, 30 August 2011


BBC Radio 4, between 6.30 and 7 pm today.

Why? Just why?

Fags, Mags and Bags, I believe it was called. It was the biggest pile of unadulterated shite to which I have ever had the misfortune to listen. Faux-Scots accents, ditto Indian ones.

Whoever wrote, directed, played and even produced that should really think about an alternative career.

Were I a Scot, Indian or BBC licence payer I would be seriously offended.

Anyone like to tell me where I was meant to derive humour, entertainment or perhaps the will to live? Perhaps I missed the point.


I like gravy.

It's important, because some meats, especially beef, need to be rested after cooking. A good sirloin joint, for instance, needs to be rested for some twenty minutes to allow the muscles to fully relax, so the meat is as tender as it can be when it gets to the plate. It is important to allow the meat to cool.

That's where gravy comes in. Gravy adds moistness to the dish, and also enhances the flavour of the meat, if properly made. In addition, it provides heat to replace the heat lost when the meat rests.

I usually make my gravy with the meat juices. This way, the otherwise-lost bits from the cooking are not wasted. I add a little mustard powder. Or, sometimes, Dijon. Some bouillon, the swiss stuff. Thickens and seasons, like Bisto, but without adding alien flavours.

But my tip for a good gravy is this: ALWAYS add a little wine. And make sure it's the same wine as you're going to drink with the meal.

Fusion. Fusion gravy.


Tuesday, 23 August 2011


MPs. I don't think any MPs read this blog. I don't blame them, it's mostly drivel.

Perhaps someone who knows an MP or something about MPs would know the answer to this, because it has puzzled me for ages.

When someone who appears to be really straightforward and honest becomes an MP, why do they suddenly start to talk shite, agree with whatever the Prime Minister says, and generally go on a self-destruct mission, taking the country with them? Why would they want to perpetuate wars? Or perhaps the imposition of curfews and cens*rsh*p?

My suspicion has been that when they become MPs, they get taken into a darkened room and told all sorts of secret things which only MPs can know. I would be happy with that, because I guess that if I knew all sorts of secret things I would have to ditch any moral scruples I had, and appear to become suddenly very, very stupid, in the national interest.

But part of me thinks that this can't be true, because if you told certain MPs certain things, they'd immediately blurt them all over the social media, like Twitter.

So what could be the reason otherwise? Is it that power corrupts?

Help me.


While I'm on my soapbox, here is another law I would like to see. And no, I don't like laws. But this one is tops.

I know what I say won't make a difference, but at least I said it.

I would like to see all booze duty removed from sales of booze in pubs. All of it. It can be replaced by a higher tax (duty my arse) on booze in shops. Especially supermarkets, and especially Tesco, but that's a bit impractical.

See, the win here is that people will go to pubs. The British brewing industry will win, and that's often small concerns, such as fff, Hog's Back, Pot Belly and the like. Chavs might stop drinking turps substitute, White Ace and similar drain cleaning products which they buy for 59p a can. People who drink in pubs, instead of caning the stuff at home, at least have someone to look after them if they manage to get shitfaced. Even someone to stop serving them when they're incapable of coherent speech and motion.

And the other upside is that people might even talk to each other. They might even see how the powers-that-be are arse-raping them.

Can't see why this doesn't get implemented. Er, hang on ...


I don't like laws. Laws are often bollocks. They are made by man, born of woman, to control other men, born of women. They have no right to do that. But sometimes laws are a good thing. If there aren't too many of them, and they're sensible. And all they do is to guide people to do what is sensible, when those people are too fucking thick to work out that for themselves.

I've recently been travelling sur le continong, and various countries have different laws concerning their traffic. Some of them are a bit daft, to my mind. Like in Germany, they have this thing where, if you're in a built-up area, you have to slow down for every fucking junction and give way to cars pulling out in front of you on your right (which is, obviously, the side they drive on, or it would be even more silly). But if there's a yellow diamond, you don't. I know why they do this, it's to keep the traffic slow, and to make jobs for people who make and install yellow diamonds.

The Spanish have what I think is a brilliant idea, which is a traffic light on approach to a small town or village on a mainish road. If you approach it too fast, it goes red. You have to stop. It holds you up for a minute. Therefore, you don't speed through the village and kill their kids. And if you do go too fast, you hold up all the traffic behind you, and they all hoot at you and make "wanker" signs, and you feel a fool, and you don't do it again.

Here is a thing I would like to see become a law, and also the reasons why.

Lorries. I work in a place which is pretty full of lorry drivers most of the time. Salt of the earth. Also thick as planks, for the most part. Lorries are restricted by law to 56mph (which is near enough 90km/h so it isn't as daft as it seems). Some are governed so they CAN'T do more than that. But the governors aren't that accurate, so you'll get one doing 55, one doing 57, etc.

When one of these overtakes another, it can take a long time. Don't correct my maths here, because i know that it's inaccurate, and I know why, but it isn't significant enough to matter. When a lorry doing 57 mph overtakes one doing 55 mph, the difference is 2 mph. 2 mph is near enough 3 feet per second. A lorry is usually in the order of 30-something feet long, so for the faster one to pass the slower one takes approximately 90 seconds.

While this lorry is overtaking the other lorry, he is pissing off people like me, wasting fuel, causing accidents and generally behaving like a prick.

Now. If the lorry was doing 55 mph, and he was going 100 miles, he would take 109 minutes. If he managed to get up to 57 mph ALL of the journey (which would mean hogging the outside lane for EVER), he would take 105 minutes. A saving of just four minutes. My transport department tell me that he would use, on one of their tankers, roughly 5% more fuel too.

When he gets to his destination, he normally waits at a gate of some sort for some paperwork, so he can load or unload.

So, folks. Next time you see a lorry driver, tell him this, eh?

Or, perhaps, a law prohibiting these selfish, thick bastards from using any lane apart from the slow one, except to overtake tractors, would be a GOOD law?

What do people think? Especially lorry drivers?

Monday, 22 August 2011

People again.

People I met on the last tweet up.


  • Awesome. Just awesome.


  • I like Ange. She's cute. And she's genuinely nice too. 


  • Darth. Great chap. Comes complete with broken limbs as well.


  • Smiley fella. We like smiley fellas.


  • BRAVE girl. Had a fucked up back, didn't moan, wouldn't take a taxi. Top.


  • Poof. I kissed him. Not on the mouth, obviously. Nice guy, but a bit of a leftie. Good German, he speaks.


  • Norks.


  • Apparently a con artist. I prefer "suffering from something". Don't know what, not my place to say. I hope he gets better.


  • Chinaman with a huge truncheon, made me laugh like a drain.


  • Complete cunt.


  • Just lovely.


  • Lovely too. I'm not saying NORKS again. Deserves better.


  • Also lovely and has great friends. Which is nice.


  • Babe. And bought me an Ameretto. Star, therefore.


  • Not a poof. Why did I think he was? Been on the telly, by all accounts. Entertaining chap.


  • 44. So he says. Looks about 6. Great bloke. Very popular.


  • Completely wasted. Gay girls should all be ugly. Grr.


  • Laaaandan gel. Funny as fuck. Would pass the pencil test.


  • No way an MP. Too much of a decent chap.


  • If you could only go on the piss with one person, this would be the one.


  • Fat. Not Jacques. ALWAYS good value.

Not bad. Nice people.

You know, I don't know what most of them do, really. Nor they me. I don't care much.

Just be yourself. Especially you, Credo. You made me laugh.


When I was a pengy chick, Russia was EEEEVIL. I remember this from school, and my Dad. You weren't allowed to say anything, and you disappeared if you did, and were cast into a fiery pit. And taunted by the devil with a red-hot toasting fork.

I thought this was true until quite recently, when I got into a conversation with a Russian. On the web. He wrote a piece of software that I bought for $25. He was a decent bloke, although his name was Ivan. He wasn't at all terrible.

He said Russia was quite a nice place to live, and he was happy. And he had the internet. Weird.

I think I was lied to. I don't think my Dad would lie to me. So far as I know he never did. He just told me what he believed to be true. So did the teachers. Mind you, then, it was EEEEVIL to be a poof. Or mentally ill. Or get divorced. There were loads of EEEEVIL things, like not going to Sunday School.

Anyway, the Berlin Wall has been knocked down. You can go to Russia on an actual aeroplane. Or a cruise ship. Next year I will go there, via Latvia, Estonia, Dresden and Poland. Which shows how good my geography is.

Anyway. I have read the PM's Statement on Libya

It all seems fine. Apart from the actual words, and the content. Because to me, this sounds like the sort of bollocks I was fed when I was a lad.

I can find no evidence AT ALL of any goings-on which would justify any kind of insurgence in Libya. I'm looking for violent murders, public executions for stealing a chicken, that sort of thing.

Apparently, people are jailed if they disagree with the "regime". Let me offer you an experiment. Go to your local tax office and tell them you disagree with being robbed, and refuse to pay their extortionate demands. Or go to the Canaries, buy a suitcase full of fags and try to bring them in. Or distill your own whiskey. See what happens.

Apparently, if people REALLY disagree with the "regime", they sort of disappear. Dr David Kelly.

If you do stuff the "regime" doesn't like, over here, like nicking a bottle of water you might get 6 months chokey.

Of course, you can do paedophilia here, if you're a Met Policeman, and you get a draconian sentence of 9 months, following which you get a new identity and rehoused at the state's expense. Don't suppose you'd get that in Libya.

But I've asked people who've lived there, people who KNOW about Libya. And it isn't all evil. Apparently there is no free election, or democracy. You can't vote for someone such as UKIP, Libertarians, etc, and expect them to have even arse-end outside chance of getting in. Not like here in the UK.

But, of course, we are a GREAT country. 

I know this. The pilots enforcing the No Fly Zone in Libya have shown incredible bravery, professionalism and dedication. Or, to put it another way, done what they're told to do, and exactly what they are paid to do.

Now look, I'm not being stupid here, am I?

Someone disagree. Please?


I didn't mention the war, you know. Couple of weeks in and out of Germany and Austria, I bet I didn't mention it more than, say, a couple of dozen times. Brilliant.

But I went to Nürnberg. We call it Nuremberg, which is obviously correct, but the foreign johnnies call it Nürnberg.

Anyway, in Nürnberg there is a big concrete thingy called the Zeppelin Stadium or some such. It's pretty shit. Not many people go to see it. The car park is empty. It's like something out of a film where the Zombies take over the world and the only people left go to this monstrosity. Or something. I don't understand why.

When you see old footage of Hitler in black and white, that's the place where he's standing, addressing the masses. You can go up there. So I did. I stood exactly where Hitler stood. You can see the big square in front, and then the woods obscuring the huge road behind. They were only put there after the war. There is a full sized coliseum too, and lakes and stuff. Hitler had these built because he was a loon. A megalomaniac. A genocidal nutjob, come to that.

Anyway, I was with an older (yes, there is someone older than me) lady. She was born in East Germany and snuck over in 1960, just before the Berlin Wall was put up. She's well-educated, and an English teacher. I've seen the Hitler footage, and he came across as a loud-mouthed fuckwit. I also read Mein Kampf (in English), and it's the most boring book I've ever read apart from "Everyday uses of Portland Cement (2nd Edition)". So I asked Mrs Woman, to whom I shall refer as Ully, for that is her name, "how the actual fuck did this galloping knobwit manage to rally the people, then?" And she replied "Ah, because he was a brilliant speaker, an orator without equal, a believer in his cause."

That's how Germans talk, you see. Anyway, I realised that the reason I thought he was simply a loony is that I don't speak German. It would be like a dog listening to me, I suppose. All I can hear is the intonation. No words.

But then it occurred to me that maybe I can see through to the lunacy beneath because I don't understand the language. I only hear the music. Not the lyrics.

I don't know. But when I hear some of the tossers today, in politics, and just look at the way they present stuff, without hearing the words, you know, I think I see some of that same stuff. And that scares the shit out of me.

Try it. Watch Dishface Cameron, Militwonk, old footage of Bliar, Brown, Manglebum, and turn the sound off.

Be afraid.

Tell me if you're not. And send me some of what you're on.

Thursday, 4 August 2011


The words:

Will you save the Cardiff Kitty?
RSPCA is shitty.
Take it home and make it pretty?
Save the Cardiff cat.

They will feed it poison
Get a bloody move on.
Home that mog
You mutton wog
And save the Kitty from a fate much worse than

Death. You bastards
Save that pussy
Make it welcome now and don't be wussy
Save the cat. I plead profusely
Save the Cardiff cat.

The boyo:

Go on. Do better. And save THAT CAT.


I hate nasty things. I hate nasty films, even. Can't be doing with them. So why I visit torture chambers I have no idea.

This one was in England somewhere. Oop North. Can't remember. All torture chambers are pretty similar. This wasn't from all that long ago.

If you're like me you probably won't want to read any more. Don't.

There was a magistrates court next to the "prison". The accused went to the magistrates court if, for example, he stole a chicken. The magistrate sent him down if he didn't like the cut of his jib. No forensics.

There was this stone-floored shithole, with a hole in the floor to the cellar, about 20 feet down. But they didn't drop the convict down there, not just for stealing a chicken. Oh no. What they did was to tie his wrists together behind his back. Then pick him up, by the wrist-ropes, via a pulley in the ceiling. Then drop him. Halfway. If they didn't manage to dislocate his arms after a few goes of that, they tied a concrete weight to his feet and did it again. A few times.

Once they'd ripped his arms out of his sockets and dislocated his elbows and wrists, THEN they dropped him down the hole. Amazingly, some of them lived for months or years and were released.

The magistrates obviously went home and had a sumptuous meal and shag and stuff like that.

They were working for the state. The elected Parliament. Like we have now.

Yep, that was for stealing a chicken. I can't bring myself to relate what happened if they robbed the state. Or killed someone.

Personally, I'd rather be hanged. I really would.

But then, I'm not afraid of death.


Now. I asked the Twitterer known as Lord Credo, ex-government squirrel trainer, whether, if I blog something that "they" (and who are they? The spooks) won't like, will I wake up in a ditch? And he said no.

So I will.

You may like to try this experiment.

Get a member of your family to tell the Salvation Army that they haven't seen you for ages and you're dead worried.

This is what the Sallys will do. They will arrange for you to be contacted via your NHS details. A letter will arrive from the NHS, to you, with the Sally letter inside. DON'T answer it.

You'll get another. And another. And some of these letters will come from, and to, untold places. They'll go to places that you never knew you'd lived in. But more importantly, they'll come from a "unit". The government, or state, have loads of these units.

I'm not saying what these units are. But you know the data protection act, and they're not supposed to hold information about you that they won't reveal to you?

Well, bollocks. All I'm saying.

Off you go. Won't take long before you know what I know.

Oh, and if you don't hear from me, check the ditches.


LloydsTSB have lost £3,000,000,000.

Can't understand why.

I've just been down the bank to get out 200 Euros for the kids holidays.

I gave the chap my service card. They have a machine to read those. He didn't put it in though. He got a form out of the drawer, a triplicate form. He put some X's in it, then my account number and sort code and name. Written in capitals, in pen. He gave it to me to sign. He then got the key for the Euro Locker, and disappeared for ten minutes. He came back with Euros. He then typed into his workstation what he'd written on the form. He then went under the desk and turned it off and back on again. He then put those numbers in again and wiggled the touchpad a lot, then hit return about 15 times.

He then counted out the Euros. Twice. He returned to the touchpad for another wiggle. And a couple of returns for luck.

He tore off the front piece of the triplicate form and wrapped the Euros in it. He put one in the drawer, and one on the spike.

20 fucking minutes. The queue was out of the door when I left.

I don't know HOW they lost £3,000,000,000. No idea at all.

Someone will know why they do this.


I'm the only one who hasn't done death penalties yet.

So this is what I think. Probably.

I think our legal system is an abortion. Years ago, being a broadly Christian country, which is a bit odd, Jesus being from somewhere vaguely in the middle east who didn't speak any English, we based our few laws on the Ten Commandments.

The first three went to the wall ages ago. The God one, the idols one and the blasphemy one.

Then the next two went with the Sunday trading law and most people realising their parents were actually wronguns.

That's half of them. The other half are a bit different, and we sort of go with them. Apart from adultery, which appears to be pretty much mandatory. Oh, and coveting. That's wanting stuff you can't afford, pretty much. For that, there's VISA.

So we're left with theft, slander/libel, and murder.

Let's deal with these? Theft. Nicking stuff that isn't yours. Like tweets. Or simply unauthorised taking of money. The state does this one. Daily. Weapons-grade theft. But you mustn't. OK? Fair enough. And if you DO nick stuff from people then probably you should have to give it back, plus the same again. That would be fair and just, to my simple mind.

Slander/libel. That's where you say someone did something or said something, and they didn't. It's there so people can get rich by hoping someone will say or write something about them and then they can get a pile of compensation for it. I think that one's a bit silly, so scrap it.

That leaves murder. Murder is quite an easy one. It means that you kill someone, pretty much. There can be many reasons why you'd do this. Well, not YOU, obviously, but some people. Now, there is NO WAY on earth or in heaven that anything other than killing someone could be construed as punishable by death. No sir.

But, is it possible that, for those who are REALLY evil, their death is an appropriate punishment? I think so. I don't believe the maxim that "people only do evil, they are not evil". Because that's bollocks. Some people are evil. Hitler was evil, I reckon. He might have been mentally ill, but evil nevertheless. Happens now and again. Probably Saddam Hussein. Possibly more than one of our great illustrious leaders, not mentioning any Mandelsons. Or Blairs. Who killed people, not by pulling the trigger, but as good as.

Ever watched a film and hoped the evil baddie dies horribly, painfully and messily before the end? I have. And they usually do. Does that make me wrong? Evil? And you?

Right, this is what you're thinking now. What if someone is killed by the state and subsequently found to be not guilty? They've just been locked up for 25 years. That's OK. The state can compensate them by giving them a bucketload of cash. Yeah. Right. That's fair? Compensation? Fuck off. And this happens. And I KNOW, for a fact, that our legal system is a pile of steaming shit. Some ponced up twat with a degree in law smarming his way round a judge. There's NO FUCKING JUSTICE there. It's who can afford the best one wins. And I didn't make this shit up. I was told this by more than one solicitor, more than one barrister, and a judge.

Fred West, Myra Hindley, The Yorkshire Ripper, the Soham Cunt. If the proof was there ...

Now come on. Get off your "don't trust the state" high horse. No, I don't trust them either. I wouldn't trust them to look after my dog while I went to the shops. But, when it's proven, 100%, cut, dried. What do you REALLY think?

I'd pull the fucking lever.


I hate tribalists. Bloody people.

I know many who are tribalists. They are Tories. Evil Tories. And Socialists. And Liberals. They're all bonkers. I understand why they are ists. They are ists because they don't like the other ists.

So, socialists think Tories are evil. They think this because they think that the Tories are very rich and want the bosses to be very rich and the workers to go down the pit and die so the workers can wear top hats. No, really. They think the Tories want to close down the shitheap that the NHS has become and that if people want to live on McDonalds and pies and then get gastric bands to keep them alive so they can carry on eating McDonalds and pies, then that's OK, but the EVIL TORIES want to close that down and when they become obese, like Eric Pickles, they will be able to afford to go private with the money they stole from the oppressed workers. Really, they think that.

Tories hate socialists because socialists want people to come out of the pits and wear top hats, and they want Tories to pay for them. Really. And socialists want everyone to earn the same, because that's only fair. So Tories hate them.

Liberals hate everyone because they never get in to government. Unfortunately they're now in, with the Tories. So socialists hate them. And so do the Tories, because they can't do what they want. And now everyone hates them because Nick Clegg is a smug cunt.

But there are others. They are Libertarians. They want liberty. And freedom. And a smaller state. There are more and more of them. They don't hate anyone. Except other Libertarians.

And this is why they're all cunts. Because they don't fucking know WHAT they want. They know what they DON'T want. And they argue with each other about who is the best Libertarian. They'd be OK if someone uninvented the term Libertarianism, because then they wouldn't be ists. Then they could start again instead of trying to conform to something. They are non-conformists. Trying to conform to a paradigm of non-conformity.


I would like freedom (we don't have that much of it despite what you're spoon-fed) and liberty (ditto) and a VERY MUCH smaller state. I would like that quite a lot. But I'm not a Libertarian. I'm not an anything. Possibly anarchist is closest, because I don't believe that I, you or your hamster needs any sort of state. Society isn't a state. Bees have it. And ants. They do OK. They don't tend to murder each other too much. They sort of look up to the wisest bee or ant. And they do what they need to do to eat and shag.

That's just what I think. I hope someone argues, cos I'm bored out of my skull today.

Wednesday, 3 August 2011


Twitter is weird. I went for lunch yesterday with the lovely @_AngryM_. I follow her and she follows me. We both follow some other peeps, and some of them follow us. If you see what I mean.

I looked at her Blackberry (spits) and she looked at my iPhone (yay).

But looking at her timeline it was like a different app altogether.

Odd. Maybe it's just me. I invited some peeps to our tweetup (pissup) and she had no idea who they were. Nor did I, come to that.

Maybe it's just me. Probably is.

Microcosms and shit.

That's all.


I have been asked by people about people.

The people who were with me last night, for the benefit of those who didn't know them and still don't.

If I missed you, tell me.

In no order at all:


Not bad. Nice people.

Monday, 1 August 2011


Hello, Metropolitan Police.

I understand you're looking for information about anarchists? According to the Guardian, you are.

Here I am. I'm an anarchist. An anarchist is someone who espouses the philosophy that the state is useless, undesirable and harmful. Yup, that's me.

I'm afraid I don't yet go round setting fire to great public buildings, although there are a few shoved up in the 60's that desperately need it. But I can tell you that the state, as it is today, is all of the above. It's actually one big mindjob that is self-perpetuating, a huge waste of time and money and resource.

My kids told me the other day that anarchists are evil. They learned this at school. It's OK, I've put them right. They're anarchists too, now. I call them Spartacus and Spartacus. If possible, perhaps you'd put them in the same chokey as me, if that's possible, as I'd like to see that they are not brainwashed any more than they have been already.

Anyway, if you want me, Google will give you the IP address. Or simply leave an email address or phone number in the comments, and I'll pop round. I'll be in London all day tomorrow, so if you let me know which Nick you like me to come to in order to hand myself in, that'll save time. I shall probably be shitfaced.

Alternatively, there was a cop, one of yours, the Met, who had paedo photos of my kids. He got 2½ years for it. He knows where I am. I don't have his address, as he was out in 9 months and was given another identity. By you, I assume. And is now anonymously sitting somewhere, probably at a PC, grooming his next victims.

Anyway. Bye for now.

Oh, by the way. I think I might be the only anarchist, actually. Perhaps if there are any others they could say so in the comments.

Jesus (aka Spartacus).

Friday, 29 July 2011


I don't have a telly. I haven't had one for years. There are one or two programs on it worth watching, in my opinion. I like the wildlife ones if they're good. Also there is a bit of entertainment and drama. And a whole lot of adverts.

I threw mine out of the door one day.

I don't have to buy a licence any more. If there is anything good, like Life on Mars, I buy it on DVD then I can watch it again if I want. And pause it. And stuff. The licence fee is a choice. It is NOT a tax. No telly, no fee. So don't moan. Do something about it. If you want to.

So, anyway. If you like your telly, then that's fine. Of course it is. I find that since I dumped it I have loads of spare time. And I do loads of stuff.

My stupid hashtag, #NoTelly, on Twitter was some suggestions of stuff, all of which I do, which you could consider trying. Or you can veg away in front of the box.

The government like you to do that. What sort of state makes it mandatory to screen crap like party political broadcasts anyway? They love it.

They've got you.

They haven't got me.



Sometimes I sort of quite enjoy being unique. I know everyone is, but I don't seem to "get" anything that's going on.

And I am not a good example of anything here, don't think I am. I am the proponent/victim/result of at least three failed marriages, and those are just the ones in which I've been a spouse.

But, this. I don't understand this. Dates.

When I were a lad we used to do stuff. We used to go to school, uni (not me cos I iz thick), pubs, clubs, whatevs.  It was OK.

School was a bit shit cos the headmaster used to drive a pink MG and call the boys "little gnome", and he was pretty much a useless sack of shit. He's probably dead now, but his name was E.P.Dewar. The cunt. It was a mixed school so there were gurls. Most of them were cleverer than me (as were most boys) so they went to uni and stuff.

I won't say about Uni cos I didn't go.

Pubs were OK. You could smoke in them and they had jukeboxes and bar billiards and darts. Sometimes we streaked in the car park as well, until my mate Tim slid down the bonnet of my A35 on to the "Flying A" and separated his bollocks on it. Oof.

Clubs were many and varied. We had bands and that kind of thing which was nice. Mainly amateur bands, like Lindisfarne, Deep Purple, Genesis, The Stranglers. Couldn't hear a bloody thing anyone said.

We used to go to Winkworth Arboretum and jump in the lake and do barbecues and have picnics. And play tennis down the local courts. The magistrates used to get a bit upset about it but we didn't give a fuck.

We were mates. There were gurls and there were boys. There was me and Tim and Alistair and Mark and Nick and Dave. There was Maxine and Donna and Lesley and Debbie and Sally. There were various others who drifted in and out, and in and out. We did daft stuff. We went to the seaside now and again, hired a coach, got slung out of the pub, came home again. We had laughs. Never hurt anyone.

We knew each other for years, us lot. Some of the boys fell in love with some of the girls. That was eons ago. They are still together. That's nice.

Now, what seems to happen, and honestly, it didn't used to, not where I was brung up, is that people "date". They meet people of their sex of choice, specifically to see if they are going to be partners, when they know sod all about them. Which I think is a recipe for a load of bollocks.

Why do they do this? Someone tell this poor old Pengy?