Hello,
This is one of these rambling blog posts about little of any real importance to those of you in the non-Clairwil community but may it comfort you to know rambling pleases me.
Obviously a proper writer would find some way to link their personal situation to Gordon Brown or some other drain on the nations joy. It's bloody typical of me to become quite upbeat when everyone else is walking around with their faces tripping them because blighty has gone to the dogs.
I suspect it's the thrill of the new that's put a spring in my step. Recently I met a Lady as in a member of the aristocracy. I thought she was top form and not at all snooty -though very, very posh indeed. Obviously I felt like a bit of a midden in comparison and experienced several cold sweats about doing something non-u with an imaginary serviette. Still when all is said and done I do not believe my conduct besmirched the reputation of the lower middle classes. No doubt a huge parade of casual racism and curtain twitching will be held in my honour when the sixties semi set get wind of it.
I'm actually feeling rather aristocratic myself following mother's announcement that my granny's books are to be disposed of . Mind you, unlike the real aristocrats I don't even have the option of involving the Scottish National Trust
My inheritance snatched from me by an unfeeling feng-shui practitioner. Instead of expressing my true feelings on the subject I have opted for damage limitation. To date I think I have saved the poetry, The Book of Snobs , Three Men In a Boat and a P.G Wodehouse that I believe is in the collection but no one else does. I have also petitioned for the sale of the rest since their presence is such an affront. I cannot bear to see those damp smelling, dusty hardbacks binned.
They aren't just objects or clutter they are the library of a clever, curious woman forced to leave school at thirteen because of a lack of money, who rather than just whine about the injustice chose to combine rage with lifelong self -education. I think there is a lot to admire in that, however difficult and bitter she was on a personal level. Who can blame her? Virtually all her siblings won scholarships and went on to better things while she became a servant. You'd think Mummy would be delighted with such a legacy but no. On she trundles in her quest to leave nothing but a crap pebble-dashed semi.
Recently I've taken up yon knitting which I'm finding restful and tricky in equal measure. I cannot move for tripping over knitting needles holding the beginnings of bears, snoods, cats, balls and caterpillars. Sadly despite my best efforts crochet eludes me. For now.
My gardening, fund raising and bulb planting mission continues and whilst I think we shall fall short of the big target having been very badly let down here and there, both I and my partner in gardening crime have exceeded our targets and between us brought in a cool 7000 bulbs. All donations are gratefully received but we were particularly impressed by the good folk of the North Kelvin Meadow pitching in with £50 and priceless free labour with yesterdays planting. This donation was particularly touching because the city council are in the process of removing them from the land to sell the land to folk who will build a block of flats that are neither wanted or desirable in that area. Depressing stuff.
Strangely the council think my troop of guerrillas are just the ticket and have offered us all sorts of much needed help. Better still we're more or less a constituted group which means we can apply for funding. My aim has always been for the group to become a full time occupation -let's face it there's plenty neglected land that needs our attention. However I'd like us to at least generate most of our own income and just top up with grants and the like. Between us all we've a million plans and hopefully we're at a point where they might just be possible. All in all I'm happy.
Cheerio
Showing posts with label guerilla gardening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guerilla gardening. Show all posts
7/06/2009
Any Spare Bulbs Mate?
Hello,
I and my merry troop of gardeners are trying to round up and plant ten thousand bulbs of varying sorts between August and December this year and would like your help to do so.
To help out click here or here to make a donation at no cost to yourself.
Cheerio
I and my merry troop of gardeners are trying to round up and plant ten thousand bulbs of varying sorts between August and December this year and would like your help to do so.
To help out click here or here to make a donation at no cost to yourself.
Cheerio
6/30/2009
I Wanted Butterflies and Got Moths
Hello,
When I took to this gardening racket last June I entertained high hopes of attracting all sorts of wildlife to my corner of the city centre. Nothing too large like an elephant which would be more hassle than it's worth. No offence to elephants I'm a big fan but face it a couple of them charging around the city would be mayhem. I was hoping for something more like birds, bees and butterflies.
I'm pleased to say the bee count is high -good old bees! You have to hand it to the bees they've got the planet by the balls. One big mass bee suicide and we've had it. Hence why we should all plant more bee friendly flowers and the like, lest we make our buzzing overlords angry. I risked a few petunias this year but cunningly planted only red ones which bees can't see apparently so at least when the bee triggered apocalypse happens it won't be my fault. Oh and no smart arse comments about me letting the cat out the bag and angering the bees with my petunia confession. They won't read it. Bees recognise no human languages, considering themselves too lofty for such rot and having once leafed through The Da Vinci Code I can't help but think they might be on to something.
The bird count is much the same as it always was a million pigeons, too bloody many of those evil gull things, not enough sparrows and the odd starling. The butterflies remain elusive unlike moths who are appearing in such numbers that the Daily Mail is bound to start getting uppity. Just wait till one of them gets done for benefit fraud or converts to Islam. We shall never hear the bloody end of it.
I was out doing a spot of watering at Wilson Street when what can only be described as a battalion of moths enveloped me in a cloud of really boring wings. As attacks go it lacked the air of meance required to make make it even slightly frightening. I couldn't help but sneer at these beige flappers even when the attack was at it's peak. Until I remembered they eat clothes and got off my mark sharpish before their attentions left me nude.
I admit I'm a bit shallow but I just can't get very excited about flying halfwits of the sort of colour my mother paints her house. Horrid pale slurries that they call 'mink' and 'mushroom' on colour charts. Yuck! Give me a nice jolly red anyday.
As I hadn't knowingly planted anything that moths are into I was baffled by their interest in my patch. In fact it hadn't even occured to me that they were into plants, I thought it was all clothes and lightbulbs in the moth community. One minute I was happily watering my seedlings the next I had a face full of disgruntled moths trying to debag me in the street. Anyone who has read Decline and Fall will know what havoc can be wrought on a person by a public debagging. No one ever believes you haven't done it purpose.
I did think the explanation may lie with the supernatural but it turns out the wretched things are mad for chives. What seems to have happened is that they've been hanging round my chives getting up to God knows what and been startled by a sudden drenching from my watering can and attempted a strip attack. Freaks.
Still none of this explains the lack of butterfly action. I've done everything possible to lure the little dandies but they remain elusive. I've racked my brains but I really don't think there was anything else I could have done which calls for a scapegoat. The question is should I blame Gordon Brown, Fred Goodwin or the PC brigade. Answers please.
Cheerio
When I took to this gardening racket last June I entertained high hopes of attracting all sorts of wildlife to my corner of the city centre. Nothing too large like an elephant which would be more hassle than it's worth. No offence to elephants I'm a big fan but face it a couple of them charging around the city would be mayhem. I was hoping for something more like birds, bees and butterflies.
I'm pleased to say the bee count is high -good old bees! You have to hand it to the bees they've got the planet by the balls. One big mass bee suicide and we've had it. Hence why we should all plant more bee friendly flowers and the like, lest we make our buzzing overlords angry. I risked a few petunias this year but cunningly planted only red ones which bees can't see apparently so at least when the bee triggered apocalypse happens it won't be my fault. Oh and no smart arse comments about me letting the cat out the bag and angering the bees with my petunia confession. They won't read it. Bees recognise no human languages, considering themselves too lofty for such rot and having once leafed through The Da Vinci Code I can't help but think they might be on to something.
The bird count is much the same as it always was a million pigeons, too bloody many of those evil gull things, not enough sparrows and the odd starling. The butterflies remain elusive unlike moths who are appearing in such numbers that the Daily Mail is bound to start getting uppity. Just wait till one of them gets done for benefit fraud or converts to Islam. We shall never hear the bloody end of it.
I was out doing a spot of watering at Wilson Street when what can only be described as a battalion of moths enveloped me in a cloud of really boring wings. As attacks go it lacked the air of meance required to make make it even slightly frightening. I couldn't help but sneer at these beige flappers even when the attack was at it's peak. Until I remembered they eat clothes and got off my mark sharpish before their attentions left me nude.
I admit I'm a bit shallow but I just can't get very excited about flying halfwits of the sort of colour my mother paints her house. Horrid pale slurries that they call 'mink' and 'mushroom' on colour charts. Yuck! Give me a nice jolly red anyday.
As I hadn't knowingly planted anything that moths are into I was baffled by their interest in my patch. In fact it hadn't even occured to me that they were into plants, I thought it was all clothes and lightbulbs in the moth community. One minute I was happily watering my seedlings the next I had a face full of disgruntled moths trying to debag me in the street. Anyone who has read Decline and Fall will know what havoc can be wrought on a person by a public debagging. No one ever believes you haven't done it purpose.
I did think the explanation may lie with the supernatural but it turns out the wretched things are mad for chives. What seems to have happened is that they've been hanging round my chives getting up to God knows what and been startled by a sudden drenching from my watering can and attempted a strip attack. Freaks.
Still none of this explains the lack of butterfly action. I've done everything possible to lure the little dandies but they remain elusive. I've racked my brains but I really don't think there was anything else I could have done which calls for a scapegoat. The question is should I blame Gordon Brown, Fred Goodwin or the PC brigade. Answers please.
Cheerio
6/03/2009
Back To Earth!
Hello,
Off my tits as I am on two weeks of lovely medication I am feeling somewhat better then when I last blogged. So much so that I've declared war in defence of my garden. The student led destruction of my garden continues unabated, a fridge, kitchen unit, drawers and umpteen bags of rubbish have now been dumped atop my poor plants and seedlings.
It's hard to say exactly what ended my state of defeat, prescription drugs were part of it but the outrage of some of my neighbours at the state of my garden spurred me and them into action. I spent the afternoon fighting off flies and transferring the rubbish on the path in to the empty bins. I then agreed with my neighbours to write to environmental health, all the local property managers and local councillors about the frightful state of the place. After all that I felt I couldn't really tell my neighbours that I had in fact abandoned the garden -not when they were being so complimentary about my begonias. I'm off to the garden centre in the morning for summer bedding, a selection of self seeders and something thorny -let them try to pull that out.
Elsewhere I see the government has descended into farce. That said am I alone in thinking Gordon Brown would be as well staying in the top job until the election? Everywhere I go on the internet people are demanding he resigns. I honestly can't see the point, I very much doubt he's significantly worse than anyone else in the Labour Party. What difference will a new face make at this late stage? Everyone knows the tories are getting in at the next election no matter what happens, who cares who leads the Labour Party into defeat?
The tories though, it's a sobering prospect. I remember them last time. It was grim. Bearing in mind I was a mere child for most of it and I must confess I did enjoy the miners strike but other than that my memories consist of absurdly high interest rates, my parents being skint, my dad on the dole for six months, Thatcher cheating the Brighton bomb and an education that would insult the intelligence of a dead dog. Mind you if it wasn't for the tories we'd never have had the experience of a Religious Studies essay being confiscated by the police at our school. Apparently the police reckoned the essay was promoting homosexuality, happily the essay got off due to lack of evidence and was returned to it's somewhat surprised author who co-incidentally was the first woman I ever slept with.
As far as I can tell we'll merely be exchanging being fucked over by people with mortgages for being shafted by folk with moats. Anyone fancy joining me in a nice Passport to Pimlico style uprising?
Cheerio
UPDATE: In addition to the above my garden is now home to what I thought was a dead body until it asked me what I was looking at and called me a cunt.
Off my tits as I am on two weeks of lovely medication I am feeling somewhat better then when I last blogged. So much so that I've declared war in defence of my garden. The student led destruction of my garden continues unabated, a fridge, kitchen unit, drawers and umpteen bags of rubbish have now been dumped atop my poor plants and seedlings.
It's hard to say exactly what ended my state of defeat, prescription drugs were part of it but the outrage of some of my neighbours at the state of my garden spurred me and them into action. I spent the afternoon fighting off flies and transferring the rubbish on the path in to the empty bins. I then agreed with my neighbours to write to environmental health, all the local property managers and local councillors about the frightful state of the place. After all that I felt I couldn't really tell my neighbours that I had in fact abandoned the garden -not when they were being so complimentary about my begonias. I'm off to the garden centre in the morning for summer bedding, a selection of self seeders and something thorny -let them try to pull that out.
Elsewhere I see the government has descended into farce. That said am I alone in thinking Gordon Brown would be as well staying in the top job until the election? Everywhere I go on the internet people are demanding he resigns. I honestly can't see the point, I very much doubt he's significantly worse than anyone else in the Labour Party. What difference will a new face make at this late stage? Everyone knows the tories are getting in at the next election no matter what happens, who cares who leads the Labour Party into defeat?
The tories though, it's a sobering prospect. I remember them last time. It was grim. Bearing in mind I was a mere child for most of it and I must confess I did enjoy the miners strike but other than that my memories consist of absurdly high interest rates, my parents being skint, my dad on the dole for six months, Thatcher cheating the Brighton bomb and an education that would insult the intelligence of a dead dog. Mind you if it wasn't for the tories we'd never have had the experience of a Religious Studies essay being confiscated by the police at our school. Apparently the police reckoned the essay was promoting homosexuality, happily the essay got off due to lack of evidence and was returned to it's somewhat surprised author who co-incidentally was the first woman I ever slept with.
As far as I can tell we'll merely be exchanging being fucked over by people with mortgages for being shafted by folk with moats. Anyone fancy joining me in a nice Passport to Pimlico style uprising?
Cheerio
UPDATE: In addition to the above my garden is now home to what I thought was a dead body until it asked me what I was looking at and called me a cunt.
5/15/2009
Mental Again!
Hello,
I'm having a few of what my sillier chums call issues at the moment having misplaced my medication, deciding I'd never felt better before going slightly but quietly bonkers again. To be honest I knew things weren't going well when I found myself bawling my eyes out yesterday over the whole MP's expenses row. I mean it is infuriating but I don't think they meant it personally.
However my tearful outburst seems to have acted as some sort of misery magnet. I've always aimed for a stoic response to things and I'm usually reasonably successful in my day to day life if not my blogging life characterised as it is by displays of rage. I hate sobbing all over folk. Not only is it embarrassing but it never gets one anywhere. With the rare exception of Mr Clairwil who usually get's practical all you get are pitying looks and cliches before the subject is quietly changed.
Anyway since going mental again someone has ripped out a very striking bush I planted at my bins last year which was growing a treat with it's black leaves contrasting nicely against the whitewashed wall. I find it quite hard to express how much this has distressed me. Normally this sort of thing just makes me angry and resolve to plant something bigger, better and poisonous in it's place. Today I just felt like ripping the lot out. I feel I've run out of steam. I know it's absurd getting upset about plants but what possible pleasure is there in ripping one out the ground, seperating it from it's roots and leaving it dumped on the street? Why can't these people buy plants of their own to destroy rather than wrecking mine?
Let's face it they are fucking rich enough -it may surprise the snobs reading to learn that most of the vandalism carried out in our street is the work of middle class students. The only thing that cheers me up in all this is my neighbour's tales of having caught the toffs in the act and reduced them to tears by threatening them with the police. Something that always prompts rapid blinking, tears and a stuttered 'I'm at university'. Less cheering is his apparent acceptance that being students they aren't real criminals and don't mean any harm. To me that makes it worse I'd be more likely to let some barely sentient ned off the hook than someone who should know better and in a few years will be buggering off to a nice suburb.
Could we not build schemes for wanky toff students where they are housed in squalor so they can feel edgy and a wee bit working class without wrecking decent areas for the rest of us? Failing that I know a housing officer responsible for three horrid east end high rises who'd be delighted to fill a few unlet flats where the young team will give you the warmest of welcomes.
Anyway the students of High Street will be pleased to learn that I'm throwing in the towel. I just cannot keep putting myself through it. It would appear that I'm not as recovered as I thought.
I'm not going to rip out what I've planted but leave it to be destroyed, I will admit that a small part of me is curious as to how long it will take them.
Cheerio
I'm having a few of what my sillier chums call issues at the moment having misplaced my medication, deciding I'd never felt better before going slightly but quietly bonkers again. To be honest I knew things weren't going well when I found myself bawling my eyes out yesterday over the whole MP's expenses row. I mean it is infuriating but I don't think they meant it personally.
However my tearful outburst seems to have acted as some sort of misery magnet. I've always aimed for a stoic response to things and I'm usually reasonably successful in my day to day life if not my blogging life characterised as it is by displays of rage. I hate sobbing all over folk. Not only is it embarrassing but it never gets one anywhere. With the rare exception of Mr Clairwil who usually get's practical all you get are pitying looks and cliches before the subject is quietly changed.
Anyway since going mental again someone has ripped out a very striking bush I planted at my bins last year which was growing a treat with it's black leaves contrasting nicely against the whitewashed wall. I find it quite hard to express how much this has distressed me. Normally this sort of thing just makes me angry and resolve to plant something bigger, better and poisonous in it's place. Today I just felt like ripping the lot out. I feel I've run out of steam. I know it's absurd getting upset about plants but what possible pleasure is there in ripping one out the ground, seperating it from it's roots and leaving it dumped on the street? Why can't these people buy plants of their own to destroy rather than wrecking mine?
Let's face it they are fucking rich enough -it may surprise the snobs reading to learn that most of the vandalism carried out in our street is the work of middle class students. The only thing that cheers me up in all this is my neighbour's tales of having caught the toffs in the act and reduced them to tears by threatening them with the police. Something that always prompts rapid blinking, tears and a stuttered 'I'm at university'. Less cheering is his apparent acceptance that being students they aren't real criminals and don't mean any harm. To me that makes it worse I'd be more likely to let some barely sentient ned off the hook than someone who should know better and in a few years will be buggering off to a nice suburb.
Could we not build schemes for wanky toff students where they are housed in squalor so they can feel edgy and a wee bit working class without wrecking decent areas for the rest of us? Failing that I know a housing officer responsible for three horrid east end high rises who'd be delighted to fill a few unlet flats where the young team will give you the warmest of welcomes.
Anyway the students of High Street will be pleased to learn that I'm throwing in the towel. I just cannot keep putting myself through it. It would appear that I'm not as recovered as I thought.
I'm not going to rip out what I've planted but leave it to be destroyed, I will admit that a small part of me is curious as to how long it will take them.
Cheerio
2/01/2009
God I Loathe Thieves!
Hello,
The clue is in the title. Not for the first time I and my fellow Guerrilla Gardeners are victims of crime. Some bastard has been nicking the plants we've put out on our formerly neglected patch for the benefit of everyone who passes by.
The Ill Man and I spent a good portion of Saturday evening trying to crack the case. I've been watching The Bill for years so I'm pretty knowledgeable about detective work. We're both agreed that a local is not responsible and suspect an incoming worker. Their habit of half inching two plants at a time suggests someone on foot. I believe it is one of the teachers at the local primary school, though The Ill Man suspects prejudice has led me to this conclusion. I'm half hoping it is a teacher and that I catch them in the act and can at last take terrible revenge against that wicked shower of child stunters. However other possibilities include the nearby church, colleges and university or the industrial estate.
Naturally, after exchanging theories, talk then turned to how we shall punish the scum responsible. I favoured stripping them naked, burning all their clothes and money and chasing them onto the main road whereas The Ill Man felt that holding them down and forcing them to piss themselves would be a better punishment.
My feeling is that we are not up against the usual member of the criminal classes. A proper criminal thief would make off with entire borders in one go and I don't think Glasgow is the best place to flog nicked outdoor plants as the majority of property is tenemental. No this swine is selfishly stealing public plants for their own private garden whilst no doubt convincing themselves it is a victimless crime, a minor bit of naughtiness that upsets no one. Hah! When I get my hands on them they'll rue the day they made that mistake.
My great Granny was prosecuted for beating up a marine and some other relative crushed a man's hand in a car door for looking at his car. As a family we do not make good victims. I might not be as violent as my fearsome ancestors but what I lack in muscle I make up for in inventive spite. I won't be happy until the person responsible dies of shame, has a breakdown or pays very generous compo and apologises in a grovelling fashion. Whatever comes first.
For anyone shaking their heads at my harshness or that this evidence of the wickedness of modern society, let me direct you to the following Guardian articles. This article shows that garden theft is not a new problem, though it was at least punishable by transportation. This one amply demonstrates that the liberalism of the Guardian reader does not extend to the garden. Truly they're only a lupin theft away from changing their order at the newsagent to the Daily Mail.
Why can't we bring the stocks back? I think they're a wonderful idea. Imagine the joy of hurling rotten food at a petty criminal -that's the sort of thing that brings communities together. Obviously I wouldn't condone hurling hard objects at them. What if a bad throw harmed the mob? But where's the harm in hurling a bit of shit, piss soaked sponges and rotten veg? It would be a fabulous tourist attraction -people would flock from miles around to take part. I realise it would be messy but the criminals could clear it up as part of their punishment.
Still to end on a high and remind us that for every low type there is a diamond out there. I was delighted to note that an anonymous donor had left us a bag of bulbs at the site -not cheapos either. Other than nurture the bulbs and put on an impressive floral display in the summer I cannot think of a way to thank our mysterious benefactor enough.
With the above in mind if you can identify our benefactor or our thief let me know. All heaven and hell will be unleashed accordingly.
Cheerio
The clue is in the title. Not for the first time I and my fellow Guerrilla Gardeners are victims of crime. Some bastard has been nicking the plants we've put out on our formerly neglected patch for the benefit of everyone who passes by.
The Ill Man and I spent a good portion of Saturday evening trying to crack the case. I've been watching The Bill for years so I'm pretty knowledgeable about detective work. We're both agreed that a local is not responsible and suspect an incoming worker. Their habit of half inching two plants at a time suggests someone on foot. I believe it is one of the teachers at the local primary school, though The Ill Man suspects prejudice has led me to this conclusion. I'm half hoping it is a teacher and that I catch them in the act and can at last take terrible revenge against that wicked shower of child stunters. However other possibilities include the nearby church, colleges and university or the industrial estate.
Naturally, after exchanging theories, talk then turned to how we shall punish the scum responsible. I favoured stripping them naked, burning all their clothes and money and chasing them onto the main road whereas The Ill Man felt that holding them down and forcing them to piss themselves would be a better punishment.
My feeling is that we are not up against the usual member of the criminal classes. A proper criminal thief would make off with entire borders in one go and I don't think Glasgow is the best place to flog nicked outdoor plants as the majority of property is tenemental. No this swine is selfishly stealing public plants for their own private garden whilst no doubt convincing themselves it is a victimless crime, a minor bit of naughtiness that upsets no one. Hah! When I get my hands on them they'll rue the day they made that mistake.
My great Granny was prosecuted for beating up a marine and some other relative crushed a man's hand in a car door for looking at his car. As a family we do not make good victims. I might not be as violent as my fearsome ancestors but what I lack in muscle I make up for in inventive spite. I won't be happy until the person responsible dies of shame, has a breakdown or pays very generous compo and apologises in a grovelling fashion. Whatever comes first.
For anyone shaking their heads at my harshness or that this evidence of the wickedness of modern society, let me direct you to the following Guardian articles. This article shows that garden theft is not a new problem, though it was at least punishable by transportation. This one amply demonstrates that the liberalism of the Guardian reader does not extend to the garden. Truly they're only a lupin theft away from changing their order at the newsagent to the Daily Mail.
Why can't we bring the stocks back? I think they're a wonderful idea. Imagine the joy of hurling rotten food at a petty criminal -that's the sort of thing that brings communities together. Obviously I wouldn't condone hurling hard objects at them. What if a bad throw harmed the mob? But where's the harm in hurling a bit of shit, piss soaked sponges and rotten veg? It would be a fabulous tourist attraction -people would flock from miles around to take part. I realise it would be messy but the criminals could clear it up as part of their punishment.
Still to end on a high and remind us that for every low type there is a diamond out there. I was delighted to note that an anonymous donor had left us a bag of bulbs at the site -not cheapos either. Other than nurture the bulbs and put on an impressive floral display in the summer I cannot think of a way to thank our mysterious benefactor enough.
With the above in mind if you can identify our benefactor or our thief let me know. All heaven and hell will be unleashed accordingly.
Cheerio
10/19/2008
The Economy Is Booming!
Hello,
I cannot bear another news item about the credit crunch. Honestly the media are in a masturbatory frenzy at the thought of thirty mile dole queues. I know they're stuck for stuff to write about now that media interest in me has died down (I'm not kidding look and look) but this pessimism is appalling and inexcusable especially now that we're all shareholders.
Anyway I have decided to ignore the credit crunch in the hope it goes away. If I see another item on the news about a hard working family who are worried about running out of oven chips or whatever it is these painfully suburban clowns eat I will commit a sex crime in the street. Then you'll all be sorry.
In any case this mayhem is made worse by people freaking out. I write as someone struggling to absorb the knowledge that I'm related to people who've withdrawn all their savings from the bank. Come to think of it I had no idea I was related to people with savings. Still one copes any way one can I intend to offer to clean their homes making sure I turn every mattress! Any rapid withdrawal of cleaning services and missing money will of course be unfortunate coincidence.
As is frequently pointed out I am economically illiterate but surely everyone hoarding money is biscuit tins is bad for the economy. To my mind it's anti-social behaviour. Savings are guaranteed up to £50,000 -if you have more than that you can afford to take a loss for the nation. For heaven's sake money is just dead trees until you spend it on something entertaining or useful. Anyone too dim to find something to blow it on should be compelled to hand it over to someone more imaginative -the gaiety of the nation is at stake.
All that said I'll be out of a job by the end of month and haven't managed to secure anything in the way of business or alternative paid employment. I've been skint before and I must say I don't approve of it. I am by nature extravagant and generous -like a sailor on shore leave only drunker. Still I won't die -my clients have rather touchingly rallied to the Clairwil cause and offered me three meals a day for as long as I want them. My parents have been rather generous too and written off a debt of £80 I owe them. Other than the swine at the national lottery who won't let me win people have been very kind.
I've also got plans to grow vegetables for my own amusement and the good of the community. The old guerrilla gardening is still taking up most of my time -if anyone would like to help see here. My idleness will be productive, enjoyable and feed a district. At the very least everyone will have access to free garnish with the herbs doing so well.
An economic downturn is a bit of a bitch but why let the fat cats see it upsets us. We saw off Hitler we can see off the cock ups of greedy bankers. Do not let them see it bothers us. Rise to the challenge and develop self reliance. That way you'll never feel grateful for their home improvement loans or credit cards when the good times roll again. In any case we're all shareholders now when the economy picks up we're all in line for massive dividends -seriously imagine the profit share we're going to get! I'm wildly excited and intend to spend as much as I can on jollity, frivolity and hats.
Cheerio
I cannot bear another news item about the credit crunch. Honestly the media are in a masturbatory frenzy at the thought of thirty mile dole queues. I know they're stuck for stuff to write about now that media interest in me has died down (I'm not kidding look and look) but this pessimism is appalling and inexcusable especially now that we're all shareholders.
Anyway I have decided to ignore the credit crunch in the hope it goes away. If I see another item on the news about a hard working family who are worried about running out of oven chips or whatever it is these painfully suburban clowns eat I will commit a sex crime in the street. Then you'll all be sorry.
In any case this mayhem is made worse by people freaking out. I write as someone struggling to absorb the knowledge that I'm related to people who've withdrawn all their savings from the bank. Come to think of it I had no idea I was related to people with savings. Still one copes any way one can I intend to offer to clean their homes making sure I turn every mattress! Any rapid withdrawal of cleaning services and missing money will of course be unfortunate coincidence.
As is frequently pointed out I am economically illiterate but surely everyone hoarding money is biscuit tins is bad for the economy. To my mind it's anti-social behaviour. Savings are guaranteed up to £50,000 -if you have more than that you can afford to take a loss for the nation. For heaven's sake money is just dead trees until you spend it on something entertaining or useful. Anyone too dim to find something to blow it on should be compelled to hand it over to someone more imaginative -the gaiety of the nation is at stake.
All that said I'll be out of a job by the end of month and haven't managed to secure anything in the way of business or alternative paid employment. I've been skint before and I must say I don't approve of it. I am by nature extravagant and generous -like a sailor on shore leave only drunker. Still I won't die -my clients have rather touchingly rallied to the Clairwil cause and offered me three meals a day for as long as I want them. My parents have been rather generous too and written off a debt of £80 I owe them. Other than the swine at the national lottery who won't let me win people have been very kind.
I've also got plans to grow vegetables for my own amusement and the good of the community. The old guerrilla gardening is still taking up most of my time -if anyone would like to help see here. My idleness will be productive, enjoyable and feed a district. At the very least everyone will have access to free garnish with the herbs doing so well.
An economic downturn is a bit of a bitch but why let the fat cats see it upsets us. We saw off Hitler we can see off the cock ups of greedy bankers. Do not let them see it bothers us. Rise to the challenge and develop self reliance. That way you'll never feel grateful for their home improvement loans or credit cards when the good times roll again. In any case we're all shareholders now when the economy picks up we're all in line for massive dividends -seriously imagine the profit share we're going to get! I'm wildly excited and intend to spend as much as I can on jollity, frivolity and hats.
Cheerio
7/28/2008
War Is Declared!
Hello,
I or rather my garden has been the victim of crime. I hopped downstairs this morning to find a large bin bag dumped on the path which was bad enough. It was only as I got closer I noticed a bag of broadsheet newspapers deliberately and maliciously dumped on a selection of helpless seedlings. Broadsheet newspapers- if even the educated classes have descended into barbarism what hope is left? Sadly that wasn't the worst of it the evil swine had also ripped out a beautiful fuchsia in full bloom and thrown it onto the street. Not content with that they stamped a small section of seedlings to green mush.
Given the make up of the neighbourhood and the presence of broadsheets I suspect students. This is good news in a way because they tend to move on after a term or two but bad news that we're saddled with such scum in our midst even for a short time. Is it any wonder the proper locals get so hacked off with the yuppiefication of this area? All it's done is attract a load of anti-social little mummies boys who would make a priest pro-abortion.
My first impulse was to rip the bags open and look for anything with an address on it so that I could return the favour on the culprits face but an altogether calmer supporter of the garden intervened and talked me out of that one. Still it's vexing me I want to know who did this so that I can make their life here a wretched misery. Unfortunately they'd covered their tracks and no address could be found so I can't even unleash Mr Plod on them.
I really don't get the mentality behind such behaviour in any case if they hate plants so much, if they cannot share in the simple pleasure of not living in a shitehole why don't they bugger off back to whichever godforsaken suburb they crawled from?
War against an unseen enemy isn't easy but they'll back down before I do. So far the death toll stands at 3 nasturtiums, 2 sunflowers, 1 polyanthus, 6 cornflowers, countless seedlings which could not be identified, the flowers from the fuchsia and my good mood.
Still I've buried the dead, tidied up and will now carry on as if nothing has happened but just wait till I catch the bastards in the act.
Cheerio
I or rather my garden has been the victim of crime. I hopped downstairs this morning to find a large bin bag dumped on the path which was bad enough. It was only as I got closer I noticed a bag of broadsheet newspapers deliberately and maliciously dumped on a selection of helpless seedlings. Broadsheet newspapers- if even the educated classes have descended into barbarism what hope is left? Sadly that wasn't the worst of it the evil swine had also ripped out a beautiful fuchsia in full bloom and thrown it onto the street. Not content with that they stamped a small section of seedlings to green mush.
Given the make up of the neighbourhood and the presence of broadsheets I suspect students. This is good news in a way because they tend to move on after a term or two but bad news that we're saddled with such scum in our midst even for a short time. Is it any wonder the proper locals get so hacked off with the yuppiefication of this area? All it's done is attract a load of anti-social little mummies boys who would make a priest pro-abortion.
My first impulse was to rip the bags open and look for anything with an address on it so that I could return the favour on the culprits face but an altogether calmer supporter of the garden intervened and talked me out of that one. Still it's vexing me I want to know who did this so that I can make their life here a wretched misery. Unfortunately they'd covered their tracks and no address could be found so I can't even unleash Mr Plod on them.
I really don't get the mentality behind such behaviour in any case if they hate plants so much, if they cannot share in the simple pleasure of not living in a shitehole why don't they bugger off back to whichever godforsaken suburb they crawled from?
War against an unseen enemy isn't easy but they'll back down before I do. So far the death toll stands at 3 nasturtiums, 2 sunflowers, 1 polyanthus, 6 cornflowers, countless seedlings which could not be identified, the flowers from the fuchsia and my good mood.
Still I've buried the dead, tidied up and will now carry on as if nothing has happened but just wait till I catch the bastards in the act.
Cheerio
6/19/2008
Dirty Bastards!
Hello,
Some of you may recall my plan to turn the communal bin area behind my flats into a garden. Well today I escaped from work a couple of hours early and since it was a nice day thought I'd make a start.
Imagine my horror when I was greeted with the mess above! You will note that there is less piled up stinking rubbish in the second picture than in the first. This is only because I put the rubbish lying on the path into the three EMPTY bins available. These are now full to overflowing. The two blue bins at the back are next to bloody useless recycling bins that from what I could tell appear to be full of rainwater and nothing else. They're also locked with only a small hole for paper to go into, meaning there is nowhere for the remaining rubbish to go!
I came back indoors to fire off an email to the council, vent a bit of rage and have a rest before getting back into it.
It's just so frustrating. Why in God's name won't they put the rubbish in the bin? I have resigned myself to cleaning up after the rest of the close since I seem to be the only current resident that would prefer not to live in a landfill site. I don't understand their behaviour or mindset at all. Any suggestions on tackling this problem that don't involve physical violence (that is plan b)?
Cheerio
5/26/2008
On Guerilla Gardening
Hello,
I'm about halfway through the most marvellous book by Richard Reynolds about Guerrilla Gardening. I've been dimly aware of this wonderful sport for a while now but I didn't really know a lot about it.
I love this sort of thing combining as it does my love of mischief and cocking a snook at authority in the best way possible -sailing above them like a helium filled balloon. More seriously It's inspired me to to something about the bins at the back of my close. Clearly my previous strategy of putting rubbish in them isn't working. Nor has my refusal to pick up the crap left by my wonderful neighbours. Tempting as it is to pick it all up and put it through their letterboxes bit by stinking bit I can't be bothered with a war. They'd only retaliate with more midweek parties. Honestly they're a nightmare. Anyone who thinks anti-social behaviour is the sole preserve of the underclass should try living next to these stuck up little turnips. I'm a hairs breadth away from painting CLASS WAR all over the close. Anyway once I've tidied up the bins I thought I'd get a few window boxes, hang them off the fence at the bin area and grow a bit of mint and lavender.
I'm also eyeing up all sorts of bits of spare ground to improve with a few blooms so let's have your gardening tips. I want suggestions for attractive low maintenance stuff to sow in forgotten corners.
Cheers
I'm about halfway through the most marvellous book by Richard Reynolds about Guerrilla Gardening. I've been dimly aware of this wonderful sport for a while now but I didn't really know a lot about it.
I love this sort of thing combining as it does my love of mischief and cocking a snook at authority in the best way possible -sailing above them like a helium filled balloon. More seriously It's inspired me to to something about the bins at the back of my close. Clearly my previous strategy of putting rubbish in them isn't working. Nor has my refusal to pick up the crap left by my wonderful neighbours. Tempting as it is to pick it all up and put it through their letterboxes bit by stinking bit I can't be bothered with a war. They'd only retaliate with more midweek parties. Honestly they're a nightmare. Anyone who thinks anti-social behaviour is the sole preserve of the underclass should try living next to these stuck up little turnips. I'm a hairs breadth away from painting CLASS WAR all over the close. Anyway once I've tidied up the bins I thought I'd get a few window boxes, hang them off the fence at the bin area and grow a bit of mint and lavender.
I'm also eyeing up all sorts of bits of spare ground to improve with a few blooms so let's have your gardening tips. I want suggestions for attractive low maintenance stuff to sow in forgotten corners.
Cheers
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