Hello,
I see our glorious future government are pretending they know how to tackle youth crime with their laughable proposal to confiscate young hooligans phones. I hate to break it to them but I've met neds they'll only go and nick a replacement caring not a jot about the phone in police custody. They're not noted for their sentimentality about these things. The way they'll see it is that they end up with two phones once the police release the old one. Good God! We're talking about folk who attack people for looking at them. Confiscate their phones!
Oddly the report in the link above describes this is a populist measure. Who exactly is it popular with? If they'd proposed giving them a good boot up the arse or beheading them they'd be elected on a landslide. No one ever smacked a pub table and declared that criminals should lose their mobiles for a month. Populist! Are they anticipating future headlines that read 'nation rejoices as ned undergoes month of minor inconvenience'? The mind boggles.
The only people who'll be taken in by this daft policy are pensioners who don't realise that any old tramp can afford a mobile and believe the young pups are all getting about a million quid a week pocket money if they can afford mobiles.
Personally I'd just have gone for publishing their phone numbers and encouraging the nation to bombard them with crank calls. It wouldn't serve any real purpose other than my personal amusement but it's no less effective than this proposal which is more suited to an irate parent than a government in waiting.
Cheerio
Showing posts with label nonsense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonsense. Show all posts
7/15/2009
5/01/2009
Gays Wot Shower In The Nude
Hello,
Pootling about the internet takes one to some strange places where one finds out some strange things. Take this highly credible tale of Jack Tweed's 'THREE' encounters with Boy George in the prison showers.
Poor Jack 'turned white and legged it' after stumbling upon 'naked gay' Boy George washing in a communal shower room. I'm sure all of you will join me in condemning this outrage. As if it's not bad enough being a gay George has to go and become one of those naked gays and wash in a shower room!
Quite why The Sun didn't go the whole hog and add a bit of accidental soap dropping into this puerile fear of the queers toss is unclear. Obviously had George been loitering by a radiator, brandishing handcuffs then one would be wise to vacate the area but I don't find his reported behaviour in the showers particularly alarming even if there was 'fleeting eye contact'. Then again I'm not one of those uniformly irresistible heterosexual men who drive all gay men without exception mad with lust.
Personally taking into account the two chaps form I think George has more to fear from Jack who let's face it is a pretty repellent little thug. In the unlikely event there is any truth to this non story Jack might want to reflect on his fear and consider how his victims felt as he assaulted them.
However the article takes a surprising twist towards in the end when it is revealed that Jack is worried about falling in love so soon after Jade's death and isn't sure if he'll ever get another girlfriend. Is this bad writing? An attempt at an explanation for Jack's fear of naked gays and their fleeting eye contact? What are they trying to tell us?
Cheerio
Pootling about the internet takes one to some strange places where one finds out some strange things. Take this highly credible tale of Jack Tweed's 'THREE' encounters with Boy George in the prison showers.
Poor Jack 'turned white and legged it' after stumbling upon 'naked gay' Boy George washing in a communal shower room. I'm sure all of you will join me in condemning this outrage. As if it's not bad enough being a gay George has to go and become one of those naked gays and wash in a shower room!
Quite why The Sun didn't go the whole hog and add a bit of accidental soap dropping into this puerile fear of the queers toss is unclear. Obviously had George been loitering by a radiator, brandishing handcuffs then one would be wise to vacate the area but I don't find his reported behaviour in the showers particularly alarming even if there was 'fleeting eye contact'. Then again I'm not one of those uniformly irresistible heterosexual men who drive all gay men without exception mad with lust.
Personally taking into account the two chaps form I think George has more to fear from Jack who let's face it is a pretty repellent little thug. In the unlikely event there is any truth to this non story Jack might want to reflect on his fear and consider how his victims felt as he assaulted them.
However the article takes a surprising twist towards in the end when it is revealed that Jack is worried about falling in love so soon after Jade's death and isn't sure if he'll ever get another girlfriend. Is this bad writing? An attempt at an explanation for Jack's fear of naked gays and their fleeting eye contact? What are they trying to tell us?
Cheerio
10/07/2008
Bloody Hell!
Hello,
Only recently I was reminiscing about the short lived staff suggestion box in the Royal Bank of Scotland. It was one of the few things about my time working there I rather liked.
Naturally not one of my suggestions was taken up -though they did once start issuing a standard letter I'd rewritten to customers. For all the good it did. Who knew the elderly middle classes were too stupid to read? Clowns the lot of them! The one spark of joy in all this is the thought of them losing their savings. Mind you I expect they'll all be frantically relocating the children's cash inheritance to Eire. God help the poor Irish bank workers they'll be plagued with moneyed loons calling up asking 'why are you Irish?' and getting in a strop about them taking 'English jobs'. Take a tip from me I spent years telling them they'd put their money in a Scottish bank based in Scotland and that a lot of folk in Scotland were Scottish but that I'd be delighted to close their account if it was a problem. Not once did I get one of them to close their account. Bastards.
Anyway in a moment of compassion I decided to cheer up the poor sod charged with the task of wading through the staff suggestions by adding at least one every day. You should have seen some of the pitiful crap my colleagues put in. 'Please fix the toilets on the fourth floor', 'can we have a kettle please?', 'why does Fred Goodwin never visit our office?'. At least I was looking at the stars. I demanded a pet's corner, more holidays, flexi time, a pay rise, a lovely canteen, a boycott of Saudi Arabia more training, secondment opportunities and doubtless the moon on a stick.
Mind you I also demanded that the bank be nationalised and run for the enrichment of the workers. Could someone be paying attention at long last? That was the last one I expected them to adopt!
Cheerio
Only recently I was reminiscing about the short lived staff suggestion box in the Royal Bank of Scotland. It was one of the few things about my time working there I rather liked.
Naturally not one of my suggestions was taken up -though they did once start issuing a standard letter I'd rewritten to customers. For all the good it did. Who knew the elderly middle classes were too stupid to read? Clowns the lot of them! The one spark of joy in all this is the thought of them losing their savings. Mind you I expect they'll all be frantically relocating the children's cash inheritance to Eire. God help the poor Irish bank workers they'll be plagued with moneyed loons calling up asking 'why are you Irish?' and getting in a strop about them taking 'English jobs'. Take a tip from me I spent years telling them they'd put their money in a Scottish bank based in Scotland and that a lot of folk in Scotland were Scottish but that I'd be delighted to close their account if it was a problem. Not once did I get one of them to close their account. Bastards.
Anyway in a moment of compassion I decided to cheer up the poor sod charged with the task of wading through the staff suggestions by adding at least one every day. You should have seen some of the pitiful crap my colleagues put in. 'Please fix the toilets on the fourth floor', 'can we have a kettle please?', 'why does Fred Goodwin never visit our office?'. At least I was looking at the stars. I demanded a pet's corner, more holidays, flexi time, a pay rise, a lovely canteen, a boycott of Saudi Arabia more training, secondment opportunities and doubtless the moon on a stick.
Mind you I also demanded that the bank be nationalised and run for the enrichment of the workers. Could someone be paying attention at long last? That was the last one I expected them to adopt!
Cheerio
8/11/2008
Nonsense
There was an Old Person of Chester,
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Old Person of Chester.
More Nonsense.
Whom several small children did pester;
They threw some large stones,
Which broke most of his bones,
And displeased that Old Person of Chester.
More Nonsense.
6/16/2008
Chatter
Hello,
I feel compelled to post this evening for some reason but have little to post about. Isn't it annoying when that happens? Or am I the only one afflicted in this way?
I had rather a pleasant morning in the newly re-opened Queen Park on Saturday which had been closed for a few weeks after the murder of Moira Jones. Naturally I have been treating the well intentioned but irritating suggestion that I should stay away from the park until the murderer is caught with the contempt it deserved. After all I haven't done anything wrong. Quite apart from anything else it's important not to show any fear in the aftermath of such attacks -it only gives the murderer a thrill. I also wanted to take the ducks and moorhens a treat. Though it would appear that every toddler in the south side had the same idea . Between my fruit muffins and the toddler army's stale bread it's a miracle none of the birds sank. My good friends the pigeons did quite well too including one magnificent wood pigeon who I ensured got a few choice bits of cake.
I'm also pleased to report a a small triumph in that I've now had my first etsy sale. I should add that this isn't the business I've been working on all these months it's just a small hobby/sideline to keep me out of mischief. In truth I find it rather soothing -it seems to tickle the happy bit of my brain.
At long last my evening class comes to an end this week -not that I haven't enjoyed it but it's a bit of bind racing into town to attend straight from work, plus they make you take your shoes off which is a practice I really don't approve of. I hate seeing a man in his stockinged feet I don't know why but it gives me the creeps. Either wear shoes or go barefoot -that's my motto.
I'm less happy to report that I have an absurd amount of meetings to attend this week. I cannot abide meetings. When I'm in charge they will be banned. As skives go there's no pleasure in them. Everyone with something worth hearing to say speaks for about a minute then the blowhards take over for hours at a time.
Right that's it, Derren Brown's on so I'm off to marvel.
Cheerio
I feel compelled to post this evening for some reason but have little to post about. Isn't it annoying when that happens? Or am I the only one afflicted in this way?
I had rather a pleasant morning in the newly re-opened Queen Park on Saturday which had been closed for a few weeks after the murder of Moira Jones. Naturally I have been treating the well intentioned but irritating suggestion that I should stay away from the park until the murderer is caught with the contempt it deserved. After all I haven't done anything wrong. Quite apart from anything else it's important not to show any fear in the aftermath of such attacks -it only gives the murderer a thrill. I also wanted to take the ducks and moorhens a treat. Though it would appear that every toddler in the south side had the same idea . Between my fruit muffins and the toddler army's stale bread it's a miracle none of the birds sank. My good friends the pigeons did quite well too including one magnificent wood pigeon who I ensured got a few choice bits of cake.
I'm also pleased to report a a small triumph in that I've now had my first etsy sale. I should add that this isn't the business I've been working on all these months it's just a small hobby/sideline to keep me out of mischief. In truth I find it rather soothing -it seems to tickle the happy bit of my brain.
At long last my evening class comes to an end this week -not that I haven't enjoyed it but it's a bit of bind racing into town to attend straight from work, plus they make you take your shoes off which is a practice I really don't approve of. I hate seeing a man in his stockinged feet I don't know why but it gives me the creeps. Either wear shoes or go barefoot -that's my motto.
I'm less happy to report that I have an absurd amount of meetings to attend this week. I cannot abide meetings. When I'm in charge they will be banned. As skives go there's no pleasure in them. Everyone with something worth hearing to say speaks for about a minute then the blowhards take over for hours at a time.
Right that's it, Derren Brown's on so I'm off to marvel.
Cheerio
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