Mostly Bollogs, I'm afraid

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



Thursday, 2 February 2012

Offensive

I understand an MP has found it offensive that a beer, an ale, has found its way into the House of Commons Bar which goes by the name of "Top Totty".

The tap has a bunny girl on it. Big deal.

The same MP, elected by her constituents, has managed to, at great effort and presumably expenditure of time, remove said beer.

Offensive.

Yup. Here are a few things which I find offensive.


  • The House of Commons has a bar.
  • That bar is subsidised by people who do proper work.
  • An MP has nothing better to do.
  • That Gordon Brown sold off the gold reserves of this once-great country, in which the building-up he had no hand, for ten cents on the dollar.
  • That the government bailed out a couple of banks.
  • That my kids are now up shit creek without a paddle because of the hubris of a handful of the political class.
  • That half of what i might earn is being taken from me at gunpoint to spunk up the wall in any way the political class deem fit.
  • That I am now a European.
I can't be arsed. What I will say is that if the lady in question did not look as they she was catapult-fed from birth she might have chosen to embrace her sexuality, rather than to try to rebel against it.

Louise Mensch has my phone number, and she knows where I live. The MP in question has only to ask, I give Louise my full permission to divulge those details.

I hope she sues me. I hope, from deep within my black heart that she does so.

Please, if you read this folks, I have no idea what the woman's name is. Do pass this on.

Thanks.

Wednesday, 25 January 2012

This

I see that people are fretting somewhat because the government we have are doing what they can to stop us drowning in the mire of debt in which we have found ourselves.

Whatever this coalition does gets stopped anyway, so no harm done, eh? We'll just run the debt up ad infinitum.

Don't blame the coalition. They're just a bunch of incompetents who've spent a lot of money on discrediting the last lot and managed to form a disparate government by virtue of the fact that Clegg hated Brown more than Cameron. Blair was truly a media creation, and look at him now. Brown was just a buffoon. Still is. Mandelson was evil. Still is. Sue me.

Look. There isn't any more money. Not in the whole wide world. Live with it. Suffer a bit. Most of you don't know any different, you were born in the EU and you have NO IDEA what went on before about the mid-eighties. You're all Fabians.

 Of COURSE you know. You read history.

Churchill said "History will be kind to me, for I shall write it." And so he did.

A couple of years ago the mainstream media airbrushed the cigar out of his mouth.

Trust me, you know NOTHING. And no, I'm not patronising you.

As was famously said, recently: "You weren't there, man".

I'd like to hear from some oldies other than I, I really would.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

Moan

I am accustomed to not having work. Happens to me every so many years, usually when someone has found out that I'm taking money off them for basically sitting around on my arse waiting for things to go wrong.

Anyway. There's a slump on, apparently. Don't know, don't care.

Now. I need to sort out some work. This involves getting in my car which is fortunately taxed at the moment, and going to see someone a way away.

This means I need fuel for the car. Or train fare and exorbitant car parking charges, so car it is.

£40 worth of diesel.

I know that most of this is £40 is yummy tax for the government. And I know that they will spend it wisely, perhaps on living allowance for a disabled person, perhaps to give someone who's really hard-up some money for food.

Anything else they spend it on is bollocks. A high-speed train, yacht for Her Maj, salary for themselves, contribution to the EU, help for the starving in Africa. All bollocks.

Because *I* need it. Not want, need.

And I'm not buying fags/beer/cleaning services/stationery with it. This is not a luxury. I don't take for granted the heated office I come into each day, paid for by taxpayers, and the allowances you MPs get. None of that.

So Africa, the EU, MPs, the Queen and the train can all fuck right off. Then come back, so they can fuck off again.

And so, I'm afraid, can the poor and the disabled. Because right now, *I* need it. And you're not having it.

And that, friends, is how the fuck it is.

I'm off to rob a petrol station.

Fuck you. And no, I'm not reducing myself to claiming "benefits", as you laughing call it. I'll die first.

Cunts.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Fuxake

I'm reading Twitter, all about the DDA this time. The Disability Discrimination Act.

Here is my opinion, and mine only.

I'm an old fart. When I was young we used to call black lads Sam, short for Sambo, which is a term of endearment for blackamoor or golliwog.

We also used to call disabled people spastics.

Yellower people were called chinks or wogs, depending.

Bus conductors were called Chalkie, I was called a four-eyed twat, my brother was known as Ratlegs, and homosexual chaps were called poofs or poofters.

It's the way it was. To be frank, there wasn't any racism from me, nor homophobia. It's just that poofs were wrong, and shouldn't have been poofs. And black people were meant to be bus conductors.

Education. I have learnt far too recently that poofs can't actually help being poofs, and black people were mostly born here these days. Just that nobody bothered to tell anyone.

What we don't need is an act. An act alienates people. You can't MAKE people think a thing, you can make them shut up about it for fear of retribution from the long, and often wrong, arm of the law, but you can't make people accept stuff that they don't believe.

That's what's wrong with the world. Let people believe what they want. Educate them though. Don't legislate.

Fucking idiots.

JMHO

Fuckwit

If you go from the M6 to the A14 you have to go down the slip road. Because it is a balls-up, all the lanes go into one at the end.

A BMW, driven by a suit, who was obviously really important, decided this morning to make another lane especially for BMWs. Unfortunately the lorry in the correct lane didn't realise this, nor did the other lorry coming the other way. He should have had his "I AM VERY IMPORTANT" sign on.

Anyway, he got sandwiched between the two and bounced up and down until enough bits had fallen off for him to carry on through the gap.

Twat.

Anyone want to buy some BMW bits, like wing mirrors, wing, door handles etc? I can tell you where there are some. Slightly damaged.

SNORK.

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Disabled

I'm not. Yet.

I may be, one day. At the moment I can walk and drink and do all sorts of things.

I'm making the most of it.

If I were disabled in any way I'd like to think that I would still talk about other things. I like norks, but I still talk about other things, now and again.

I also know that if I were disabled I would probably put that somewhere near the front of my experiences.

But what I wouldn't do, I am sure, is have such a short memory that I would blame the coalition (bunch of self-serving tits that they are) for everything. I'd blame the last lot (bunch of self-serving tits that they are) equally.

But then I'm not disabled. Yet. I hope I never am.

Please. Disabled people. Black people. Yellow people. Tiger trainers. Women. Everyone.

Please recognise that you have one, and only one, enemy. It is the political class, the one that's shagging you up the arse with a rusty pole, in order to feather their own nest.

If you can't see this, yet, please seek out some help.

Thanks.

Monday, 9 January 2012

Chilli con Carne

You will need

½lb minced beef
1 tin tomatoes
1 tin kidney beans
a little oil
chillies
peppers
a big coat

First, take the minced beef. It's easier in the pre-packed section, and comes double-sealed so you can slide it into a side-pocket.

Chillies and peppers are to be found in the fresh vegetable section. The chillies fit neatly in a back pocket of your jeans. Peppers are more of a problem so don't take more than you need. If you have a hat then a couple of peppers should fit neatly underneath - a "Blues Brothers" style pork-pie hat is ideal.

Check the price of the tomatoes and kidney beans. The tomatoes should be cheaper, so put them in the basket, and the kidney beans under the coat. It may help to tighten your belt around them so that they don't fall out when passing the checkout.

If you have no oil at home, then simply borrow a small cupful from a neighbour or your local police station.

Cook the ingredients and serve.