Laughing All The Way To The Bank!

Hello,
Imagine if you will, getting up one day to find you'd been burgled and everything of value you owned had been nicked. Worse still you hadn't got round to renewing the insurance leaving you seriously out of pocket. Still not to worry -you're a plucky, robust sort. Of course you'll need to cut back a bit, raid the savings and maybe holiday at home next year. Still you say to yourself it could be worse at least none of your family were hurt during the burglary. Gradually the house starts to feel like home again and though you're still angry about the burglary, you can think of it without foaming at the mouth.

Then one day a postcard arrives. It's from the thief. He just wants to let you know he booked himself an extended holiday with the proceeds of the burglary and wanted to tell you all about the great laughs he's been having at your expense. The next morning his wife drops you a line to tell you about the lovely kettle she bought with that money you'd foolishly left on the sideboard. And not a word of thanks between them.

You'd be hopping mad, homicidal, crazed with rage. Walls would be punched, cats would be kicked, appliances would be hurled from top floor windows -only you don't have any appliances because the bastard burglar knicked them all. You'd be bloody furious so much so that you really would see the red mist there before your very eyes.

Someone nicking your stuff is bad enough but nicking your stuff and laughing at you is maddening beyond belief. You'd feel you were being goaded, belittled, insulted. You'd say he's taking the piss and you'd be right.

The above just about sums up how I feel about the article I linked to in my last post written by Austin Mitchell MP . Not only has he robbed us with his extravagant expenses claims, he's popped along to The Guardian to tell us all just how bloody funny he thinks the whole thing is. And yes, his wife, his unelected wife is at the expenses as well, having just splashed out £75 for a kettle. Some bird who happens to live with a MP has spent £75 of our money, £10:70 more than a single unemployed person gets to live on in a week, on a wretched bloody kettle. A kettle.

Words fail me! I'm reduced to opening and shutting my mouth like a big purple faced fish. Talk about a brassneck. As if the article itself isn't offensive enough he's laughing in his byline photo. Laughing at us like a man with a fucking subsidised kettle.

From time to time I fill out Community Care Grant forms for my more impoverished clients to help them buy furniture and household goods. There are no £75 kettles for these folk. As the grants are drawn from a limited budget people are expected seek out the bargains so whilst you might want a £75 kettle, the decision maker will call you up establish that you own a pot and your hob works therefore you don't need a kettle. Fancy a fridge? Not if you have a windowsill to keep a pint of milk on and no essential medication that needs keeping cool. What about an oven? No -you own a perfectly good microwave. A Duck House - no chance! A Bell Tower -piss off! Removal of that troublesome wisteria - when hell freezes over.

These grants are applied for by people with disabilities, ex-homeless and the like who have no savings and rely entirely on benefits for their income. They don't get £60,000 p/a -these are folk on four figure annual incomes. Perhaps one of the good socialists of the Labour Party could enlighten us. Are these people receiving far, far less help than they're due or having you lot just been ripping the piss right out of your expenses? After all expenses are just for what you need not wee treats. Or are some pigs more equal than others?

Cheerio

God Bless The East End

Hello,
An an anonymous comment informs me that Total Politics have incredibly got me listed as a Labour blog!

Lord knows what gave them that idea. For the record I am one of the elite band of Glaswegians who have never voted Labour -ever! I've voted SNP and SSP in the past and on the wonderful single transferable vote council elections last year voted as follows 1. SNP 2. Solidarity 3.Green 4. SSP 5. Conservative. I didn't vote Labour because I hate them and the Lib Dems lost out because that just amounts to voting Labour in Scotland. When I find out who listed me as a Labour supporting blog I'm going to start a smear campaign against them and see how they like it. Labour indeed.

I would also add that I have in the past been a member of the SNP but I left because they wouldn't take my fear of dogs at all seriously, I then joined the SSP but left because of the women. Honestly I still have nightmares. At present I'm happily unaffiliated and intend to stay that way for the foreseeable future. In truth I'm a contrary cow born for opposition. In other words I'm a pain in the bum that goes and spoils it all when a consensus emerges. You really don't want me in your party. Nevertheless be warned I've joined before and I may join again.

Speaking of Labour, no one who witnessed my beer fuelled victory dance as the results came in could mistake me for a Labour voter. Once I'd lifted my jaw off the floor I made something of a slightly tipsy exhibition of myself. Mind you that was nothing compared to my sober hooting as I passed the sad Labour losers as they cleared out campaign HQ earlier today. It is of course wronmg and mean spirited to kick folk when they're down but that shower of parasites should be kicked every opportunity one gets. After all we pay enough for them I think that entitles us to rough them up from time to time. I speak metaphorically rather than literally no-one should subject Labour party members to violence unless there are no witnesses and you're really certain you'll get away with it*.

Anyway apologies for the absence. I've been getting my caseload in work up to date in preparation for my annual leave, job hunting and business planning, enjoying this glorious weather and tending my garden. I have to say this guerilla gardening lark is the best thing I've done in ages. I'm almost finished planting one side of my strip of land but am now planning to add some window boxes to the fence. The response from local businesses, passers by and neighbours to my wee garden has been fabulous. The folk in the pub opposite are providing me with water and policing the bin area. One of their customers has promsied me free plants and cuttings, people have given me money to buy plants and I can't so much as plant a seed with out someone patting me on the back. It's all been quite overwhelming really and being a praise loving beastie has led to me planning to take over another two bits of local abandoned land. These are somewhat bigger jobs and I really do need some help with them anyone genuinely interseted in setting up a Glasgow dig rather than wasting my time should join up here.

I haven't forgotten my series of posts on UK poverty and will get them done over the next two weeks when I have more time. I'll also be making all sorts of disparaging remarks about the mess the government are about to make of benefit reform -why they don't simply ask me to sort it is a mystery, I'm cheap, right and amusing after a few drinks.

Finally God Bless the East End for at long last delivering an almighty boot up the arse to their parasitical oppressors.

Cheerio










*For the hard of thinking this is what is generally referred to as a joke.