Hello,
It occurs to me that I haven't posted anything rude about a politician for ages. I can only apologise to my elected chums and trust none of them are feeling too neglected.
First up the Tories have irritated me. It's just like the 80's again. As you'll all be aware Thatcher popped round to Gordon Brown's pad for tea and crumpets or to noise up David Cameron depending on your view. Anyway a few of the Tories have got all huffy and upset about it, claiming that she's a frail and lonely old lady and is being exploited. Have they seen her lately? She looks more terrifying than ever. In any case in the unlikely event she and Cameron were to have a bare knuckle boxing contest I know where my money would be going.
That being their opinion I wonder how many of them pop in to visit or give her a ring to see if she wants any shopping done? Not many because they all keep their distance depending on how much of a liability they see her as having consulted with umpteen focus groups. If I were her I'd join Respect to really mess with their minds.
Obviously the government have upset me, I believe it was one of those pledges they kept banging on about. Apparently 24 hour licencing has got to go because some people are too bloody stupid to go to the pub without making a nuisance of themselves. Naturally this has got the puritans creaming their drawers with excitement.
Rather than restrict opening hours could they not try something like policing the town centres at peak times. They started doing it Glasgow a while back and fuck me violent crime at the weekend fell by 13%! It's almost as if the police were acting as some sort of deterrent. In addition to the visible and surprisingly civilized and good natured police presence they have fellows in fluorescent jackets who keep the taxi queue moving in an orderly fashion and direct folk to buses etc.
If the government place us all under house arrest at any point in the next ten years I will not raise an eyebrow. More seriously why can't they just leave us alone. Stop smoking, lose weight, stop drinking. For God's sake it's like living with my mother.
Has anyone looked into the effects of all this nagging on the population? Maybe all the stress they're putting us under is causing everyone to reach for the bottle. At times they make me want to smoke crack and bite folk.
Why can't they accept that human nature cannot be perfected by legislation? Look at the smoking ban. The only difference in my habits is that I sit outside at the pub and talk to all the interesting folk, leaving all the lemon suckers inside. Life expectancy in the U.K is longer than it's ever been. Why the sudden hysteria about self inflicted premature death?
I live in a town centre so I'm no stranger to the problems caused by drunken halfwits but I also know that the majority of people are able to go out for a few pints without causing mayhem. I am merely suggesting that they leave the rest of us alone and arrest the idiots. Honestly they're worse than those teachers that punish entire classes for the 'crimes' of an individual.
Cheerio
Showing posts with label cluckers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cluckers. Show all posts
9/19/2007
8/09/2007
Turn That Bloody Racket Off!
Hello,
I see Elton John has demanded that the internet be turned off for five years. Can that be done? Where is the internet kept? Who looks after it? We should of course bear in mind that Elton John once phoned a hotel reception in a temper and told them to turn down the weather so it is possible he's misunderstood the whole thing a bit.
Naturally I'm opposed to this wicked plan. I prefer the internet to the telly these days. Telly reminds me that I am alone in the universe, the internet allows me to pretend I'm not. My whole life I've been haunted by the feeling that all the people like me are off elsewhere doing interesting stuff whilst I'm surrounded by people who humour me or irritate me.
I'm off out on Friday night on some sort of work 'teambuilding' night out in an appalling tapas bar. Why they can't just accept that we all hate each other and leave us in peace I'll never know. What is the sodding point? What do I have to say to a load of mums who reek of antiseptic and talk about their bowels all the time? Well plenty actually but they'd all start making the gasp of outrage possibly worse than the one they do when they see something that displeases them on GMTV so I'll be sitting in silence watching the clock and dreaming up excuses to leave early.
With any luck one of them will drink a glass of wine and do something outrageous, though I fear it will the the usual tuts of disapproval if I order a pint. Worse still they'll insist we share our dishes. I fucking hate sharing. I cannot bear it. Every time we go out it's the same. I look at the menu and decide what I want whereas they all flap about whining 'what are you having' so that they can co-ordinate, then treat me like an anti-social freak for my perfectly reasonable desire to eat without them sticking their dirty forks in my food. I wouldn't mind but these are people who change the sheets immediately after sex and carry wet wipes at all times yet they're quite happy to stick their bloody germs in my dinner. I should stress I'm not germ phobic but I refuse to eat off the same plate as anyone I wouldn't sleep with.
Oh God I'm on a roll now. The list of things they do that annoy me is too long to deal with in detail but as this is food related I'll throw it in. Every single day in work they ask me what I'm having for lunch or if I happen to be eating it at the time the lean over and look at it before questioning me as to exactly what's in my sandwich. For six months I ate cheese sandwiches because it was easier to explain than houmous. I don't know why but I feel very agressive when questioned about my lunch. Always have, even as a child. What gets me hopping mad is when they ask what I'm having then get the same thing and tell everyone that they bought it because Clairwil was having it and it looked nice.
Right I must end now I feel a rant about their stupid fake allergies coming on and if I start I won't stop.
Cheers
I see Elton John has demanded that the internet be turned off for five years. Can that be done? Where is the internet kept? Who looks after it? We should of course bear in mind that Elton John once phoned a hotel reception in a temper and told them to turn down the weather so it is possible he's misunderstood the whole thing a bit.
Naturally I'm opposed to this wicked plan. I prefer the internet to the telly these days. Telly reminds me that I am alone in the universe, the internet allows me to pretend I'm not. My whole life I've been haunted by the feeling that all the people like me are off elsewhere doing interesting stuff whilst I'm surrounded by people who humour me or irritate me.
I'm off out on Friday night on some sort of work 'teambuilding' night out in an appalling tapas bar. Why they can't just accept that we all hate each other and leave us in peace I'll never know. What is the sodding point? What do I have to say to a load of mums who reek of antiseptic and talk about their bowels all the time? Well plenty actually but they'd all start making the gasp of outrage possibly worse than the one they do when they see something that displeases them on GMTV so I'll be sitting in silence watching the clock and dreaming up excuses to leave early.
With any luck one of them will drink a glass of wine and do something outrageous, though I fear it will the the usual tuts of disapproval if I order a pint. Worse still they'll insist we share our dishes. I fucking hate sharing. I cannot bear it. Every time we go out it's the same. I look at the menu and decide what I want whereas they all flap about whining 'what are you having' so that they can co-ordinate, then treat me like an anti-social freak for my perfectly reasonable desire to eat without them sticking their dirty forks in my food. I wouldn't mind but these are people who change the sheets immediately after sex and carry wet wipes at all times yet they're quite happy to stick their bloody germs in my dinner. I should stress I'm not germ phobic but I refuse to eat off the same plate as anyone I wouldn't sleep with.
Oh God I'm on a roll now. The list of things they do that annoy me is too long to deal with in detail but as this is food related I'll throw it in. Every single day in work they ask me what I'm having for lunch or if I happen to be eating it at the time the lean over and look at it before questioning me as to exactly what's in my sandwich. For six months I ate cheese sandwiches because it was easier to explain than houmous. I don't know why but I feel very agressive when questioned about my lunch. Always have, even as a child. What gets me hopping mad is when they ask what I'm having then get the same thing and tell everyone that they bought it because Clairwil was having it and it looked nice.
Right I must end now I feel a rant about their stupid fake allergies coming on and if I start I won't stop.
Cheers
6/04/2007
Teachers
Hello,
As my long term readers are aware I'm not a fan of the teaching profession. I've met less than ten primary or secondary teachers who weren't either thick, socially inadequate, incapable of answering a resonable question or derranged. So I may be slightly biased.
Newsnight Scotland has just ended with an item about the next EIS general meeting where they will be putting forward a motion to ban the army from schools. It took a while to get the reason for this out of the teachers represtitive. He's lucky I wasn't presenting I'd have bellowed 'answer the question, you impertinant boy' at the top of my lungs and if that didn't work I'd have adopted a sarcastic tone and asked if he wanted to stand up and tell the rest of the nation what the teachers were whispering about. As usual I was not presenting Newsnight so I had to content myself with shouting at the telly.
It eventually emerged that the reason was that joining army carries a risk of death and if the army are allowed into schools it might appear that teachers are endorsing a career in the army. Why he didn't just tell the truth and state that it was a witless bit of anti-Iraq protest is beyond me. Lord knows I took a dim view of the Iraq war but I blame the government rather than the army who as far as I understand, go where they're sent.
I was also alarmed at the idea the nations schoolchildren are too thick to understand the risks involved in joining the armed services. One would have thought the teaching profession would be embarrassed to admit that despite all their hard work Scotland's teenagers are such numpties. If teachers are telling us that children who have been in school since early childhood are by their teens incapable of listening to a presentation, considering what has been said and researching the options open to them, then I would like to know how the teaching profession intends to tackle this crisis. I wonder if it's the evidently low opinion of those charged with educating them that as at least in part responsible for their alleged stupidity.
The army argue that they only go to schools where they have been invited and do not actively recruit but instead give general career talks and let the pupils make there own minds up. Good Lord conveying information and expecting people to think! What an innovative strategy, has anyone considered putting them in charge of teacher training?
Do the teachers imagine that the army are hypnotising the children? I used to attend every recruitment talk going, including the armed services who were never away from the school. I had no more intention of joining the armed forces than I did of turning into a double bass. I was skiving and nothing said during any recruitment talk was going to alter that. Out of my year at school three people joined the armed forces which they'd wanted to do since childhood. No amount of reasoning would deflect them from their aim. As I recall it was two years of army life that convinced two of them they'd made a terrible mistake.
If teachers would prefer the pupils in their care not to join the army, then they'd be better to make their classes interesting and try to convey a sense of enthusiasm for a career in that discipline, rather than prevent their pupils from hearing one view of an army career.
Later in the week I intend to go mad about the appointment of a 'Respect Czar' and the plans to prevent under eighteens from viewing film that contain scenes of smoking in them.
As my long term readers are aware I'm not a fan of the teaching profession. I've met less than ten primary or secondary teachers who weren't either thick, socially inadequate, incapable of answering a resonable question or derranged. So I may be slightly biased.
Newsnight Scotland has just ended with an item about the next EIS general meeting where they will be putting forward a motion to ban the army from schools. It took a while to get the reason for this out of the teachers represtitive. He's lucky I wasn't presenting I'd have bellowed 'answer the question, you impertinant boy' at the top of my lungs and if that didn't work I'd have adopted a sarcastic tone and asked if he wanted to stand up and tell the rest of the nation what the teachers were whispering about. As usual I was not presenting Newsnight so I had to content myself with shouting at the telly.
It eventually emerged that the reason was that joining army carries a risk of death and if the army are allowed into schools it might appear that teachers are endorsing a career in the army. Why he didn't just tell the truth and state that it was a witless bit of anti-Iraq protest is beyond me. Lord knows I took a dim view of the Iraq war but I blame the government rather than the army who as far as I understand, go where they're sent.
I was also alarmed at the idea the nations schoolchildren are too thick to understand the risks involved in joining the armed services. One would have thought the teaching profession would be embarrassed to admit that despite all their hard work Scotland's teenagers are such numpties. If teachers are telling us that children who have been in school since early childhood are by their teens incapable of listening to a presentation, considering what has been said and researching the options open to them, then I would like to know how the teaching profession intends to tackle this crisis. I wonder if it's the evidently low opinion of those charged with educating them that as at least in part responsible for their alleged stupidity.
The army argue that they only go to schools where they have been invited and do not actively recruit but instead give general career talks and let the pupils make there own minds up. Good Lord conveying information and expecting people to think! What an innovative strategy, has anyone considered putting them in charge of teacher training?
Do the teachers imagine that the army are hypnotising the children? I used to attend every recruitment talk going, including the armed services who were never away from the school. I had no more intention of joining the armed forces than I did of turning into a double bass. I was skiving and nothing said during any recruitment talk was going to alter that. Out of my year at school three people joined the armed forces which they'd wanted to do since childhood. No amount of reasoning would deflect them from their aim. As I recall it was two years of army life that convinced two of them they'd made a terrible mistake.
If teachers would prefer the pupils in their care not to join the army, then they'd be better to make their classes interesting and try to convey a sense of enthusiasm for a career in that discipline, rather than prevent their pupils from hearing one view of an army career.
Later in the week I intend to go mad about the appointment of a 'Respect Czar' and the plans to prevent under eighteens from viewing film that contain scenes of smoking in them.
5/06/2007
Hey Busybodies Leave Those Weans Alone.
Hello,
The next person who smugly proclaims that the parents of the abducted infant Madeleine McCann or 'Maddy' as she is presumptuously being called by the press, are to blame is getting a sore face. The last time I checked the holiday resorts of Portugal were not war zones. It seems to me perfectly reasonable to leave a child in a nearby room to eat one's dinner in peace.
In truth, I really pity the modern child. I spent most of my childhood wishing my parents would get out my face. Yet by modern standards I was neglected, spending my summers wandering about 'the field' or down the park playing football with the lads. I was also fond of camping expeditions in various neighbours gardens. Similarly snowy winters were spent hurling snowballs and sledging down 'the cliff' (now a steep set of stairs in hideous Barratt scheme). Worse than that, around the age of eight I was deemed capable of walking to school alone and since six was only walked halfway.
To which some smartarse will no doubt hold me up as an example of the pitfalls of lax parenting. All I can say is that my parents aren't to blame for me, my brother has turned out well, I'm just a genetic throwback to some earlier horror. I am a mess of my own making and in that is my defence of a balanced approach. Better to be a disaster that takes responsibility for their own mistakes than one that needs babying well into adulthood. Taking a doing for a dirty tackle when mummy is too far away to run to is a good lesson in life. One that the X-Box ruined child who must be watched is being deprived of.
Strolling in the direction of the point. It seems clear to me that there is a choice before us. We can either succumb to the fear and paranoia or we can get on with the task of decent commonsense child rearing. That means letting them off the leash from time to time, not the harsh, judgemental, parental eyes scorching their skin 24 hours a day. From the moment we are conceived we are at risk of abortion, miscarriage, still birth, accident, fatal illness and murder. Let's just concentrate on making the time children have enjoyable, whatever moral and legal right to life they may have, human evil, brutality and perversity can appear at anytime. Better to jail the perpetrator after the act than stunt whole generation for their own good, on the off chance.
Failing that do not breed and get a cat. Or become a maiden aunt as I will be, God willing, from November.
Cheerio
The next person who smugly proclaims that the parents of the abducted infant Madeleine McCann or 'Maddy' as she is presumptuously being called by the press, are to blame is getting a sore face. The last time I checked the holiday resorts of Portugal were not war zones. It seems to me perfectly reasonable to leave a child in a nearby room to eat one's dinner in peace.
In truth, I really pity the modern child. I spent most of my childhood wishing my parents would get out my face. Yet by modern standards I was neglected, spending my summers wandering about 'the field' or down the park playing football with the lads. I was also fond of camping expeditions in various neighbours gardens. Similarly snowy winters were spent hurling snowballs and sledging down 'the cliff' (now a steep set of stairs in hideous Barratt scheme). Worse than that, around the age of eight I was deemed capable of walking to school alone and since six was only walked halfway.
To which some smartarse will no doubt hold me up as an example of the pitfalls of lax parenting. All I can say is that my parents aren't to blame for me, my brother has turned out well, I'm just a genetic throwback to some earlier horror. I am a mess of my own making and in that is my defence of a balanced approach. Better to be a disaster that takes responsibility for their own mistakes than one that needs babying well into adulthood. Taking a doing for a dirty tackle when mummy is too far away to run to is a good lesson in life. One that the X-Box ruined child who must be watched is being deprived of.
Strolling in the direction of the point. It seems clear to me that there is a choice before us. We can either succumb to the fear and paranoia or we can get on with the task of decent commonsense child rearing. That means letting them off the leash from time to time, not the harsh, judgemental, parental eyes scorching their skin 24 hours a day. From the moment we are conceived we are at risk of abortion, miscarriage, still birth, accident, fatal illness and murder. Let's just concentrate on making the time children have enjoyable, whatever moral and legal right to life they may have, human evil, brutality and perversity can appear at anytime. Better to jail the perpetrator after the act than stunt whole generation for their own good, on the off chance.
Failing that do not breed and get a cat. Or become a maiden aunt as I will be, God willing, from November.
Cheerio
4/15/2007
A Code Of Conduct For Bloggers
Hello,
Is there no part of my life that is free from botherers? I have just received an email telling, yes telling me to become a protestant. Obviously I emailed back and said I'd love to but first you need to do something about the lack of visuals, incense and how about adopting few Voodoo rituals. Believe me that is the last time I ever ask the Wee Free's a serious theological question.
Anyway some sort of code of conduct for bloggers has been brought to my attention. Oh for Christ's sake just cock off! Is nothing sacred? All I ever wanted in life was a space to act the goat in without someone moaning that I'd trod on their prize marrow. Now we have this set of rules. To be fair they are voluntary -for now.
There is no need for it whatsoever. I find myself reminded of those kiss-arse children I was incarcerated at school with. Do you know that at one point they took at petition to the headmaster asking for the uniform rules to be enforced? And had the nerve to call me immature for sneering at them! Why in God's name would anyone campaign to have one of their meagre freedoms taken away?
As time goes by I start to relate to those Americans that live in shacks in the mountains with 526 rifles and mistrust the government.
If you don't want to read me, then fuck off! Now that is a code of conduct.
Cheerio
Is there no part of my life that is free from botherers? I have just received an email telling, yes telling me to become a protestant. Obviously I emailed back and said I'd love to but first you need to do something about the lack of visuals, incense and how about adopting few Voodoo rituals. Believe me that is the last time I ever ask the Wee Free's a serious theological question.
Anyway some sort of code of conduct for bloggers has been brought to my attention. Oh for Christ's sake just cock off! Is nothing sacred? All I ever wanted in life was a space to act the goat in without someone moaning that I'd trod on their prize marrow. Now we have this set of rules. To be fair they are voluntary -for now.
There is no need for it whatsoever. I find myself reminded of those kiss-arse children I was incarcerated at school with. Do you know that at one point they took at petition to the headmaster asking for the uniform rules to be enforced? And had the nerve to call me immature for sneering at them! Why in God's name would anyone campaign to have one of their meagre freedoms taken away?
As time goes by I start to relate to those Americans that live in shacks in the mountains with 526 rifles and mistrust the government.
If you don't want to read me, then fuck off! Now that is a code of conduct.
Cheerio
1/29/2007
Mrs Charlie Brooker and Miscellaneous Nonsense
Hello,
Three people came here this evening looking for 'perv cams'. Each to their own but I shall say that it's all very well trying to pin the blame on the cam but it's not the perv. Think on my one handed friends.
Anyway I see the world has formed the opinion that Charlie Brooker needs a wife, owing to him being a bit disorganised. I expect the correct response to such an article is to roll one's eyes and say 'silly clucking mother hens' and then think about something else.
Oh dear, not for the first time have I found myself being incorrect. I have often thought I needed a wife or at the very least a free cleaner/PA and I do if anyone's interested. Anyway Mr Brooker's article set off a panic within me. What if the cluckers got together and got him a wife and it was me! Jesus Christ! Could you imagine? Apart from the obvious pitfalls of that much rage in a confined space. Think of the disorder! The piles of unironed clothes, the unopened bills, the domestic chaos and there in the centre of it all Charlie and I shouting at Top Gear and eating hula hoops for dinner.
God it's too horrible to contemplate. I should point out that I am a big fan of our Charlie, although I don't know him or anything. I'm just making it clear that in the event anyone was thinking of fixing us up that it's not a good idea. I'm just trying to avert a potential tragedy and an appearance on one of those freakshows where they go into the homes of the mentally ill and gasp at the dirt.
I have to say it's just as well women aren't expected to do all the housework these days. Think of the poor chap who in a bygone age would have marched me up the aisle, full of excitement at the thought of a clean home and a pair of freshly laundered and ironed y-fronts a day. Only to find me reading, typing and watching telly all at once beside an overfilled ashtray.
Someone invited to a 'past-life regression' workshop recently. Maybe the answer to my total absence of domestic pride lies in a previous incarnation. I was chatting to mother about it as she is something of an authority of these things. I was speculating on which important historical figure I used to be, suspecting that I had servants and poor people to clear up after me. Mother soon poured cold water on that -typical! She reckons I was just 'Joe Soap' in a past life and that I'm working my way up. How depressing.
P.S- I have a number of invites to join a paid blogging/writing thing to dish out. If you'd like one e-mail me here. Not likely to make you rich but a good way to get you in the habit of writing short articles on a wide variety of topics. First come first served.
Cheerio
Three people came here this evening looking for 'perv cams'. Each to their own but I shall say that it's all very well trying to pin the blame on the cam but it's not the perv. Think on my one handed friends.
Anyway I see the world has formed the opinion that Charlie Brooker needs a wife, owing to him being a bit disorganised. I expect the correct response to such an article is to roll one's eyes and say 'silly clucking mother hens' and then think about something else.
Oh dear, not for the first time have I found myself being incorrect. I have often thought I needed a wife or at the very least a free cleaner/PA and I do if anyone's interested. Anyway Mr Brooker's article set off a panic within me. What if the cluckers got together and got him a wife and it was me! Jesus Christ! Could you imagine? Apart from the obvious pitfalls of that much rage in a confined space. Think of the disorder! The piles of unironed clothes, the unopened bills, the domestic chaos and there in the centre of it all Charlie and I shouting at Top Gear and eating hula hoops for dinner.
God it's too horrible to contemplate. I should point out that I am a big fan of our Charlie, although I don't know him or anything. I'm just making it clear that in the event anyone was thinking of fixing us up that it's not a good idea. I'm just trying to avert a potential tragedy and an appearance on one of those freakshows where they go into the homes of the mentally ill and gasp at the dirt.
I have to say it's just as well women aren't expected to do all the housework these days. Think of the poor chap who in a bygone age would have marched me up the aisle, full of excitement at the thought of a clean home and a pair of freshly laundered and ironed y-fronts a day. Only to find me reading, typing and watching telly all at once beside an overfilled ashtray.
Someone invited to a 'past-life regression' workshop recently. Maybe the answer to my total absence of domestic pride lies in a previous incarnation. I was chatting to mother about it as she is something of an authority of these things. I was speculating on which important historical figure I used to be, suspecting that I had servants and poor people to clear up after me. Mother soon poured cold water on that -typical! She reckons I was just 'Joe Soap' in a past life and that I'm working my way up. How depressing.
P.S- I have a number of invites to join a paid blogging/writing thing to dish out. If you'd like one e-mail me here. Not likely to make you rich but a good way to get you in the habit of writing short articles on a wide variety of topics. First come first served.
Cheerio
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)