Sunday 31 May 2015

Writing Gibberish on a Quiet Sunday Afternoon



I am going to conduct an experiment today as part of an ongoing experiment in writing and observation (when I say ongoing I am lying) so I plan to type gibberish. Not gibberish as in. . . . ajdfn;  ;a;n  njdjahuerqwpuqw  hfha jadhajdhjd. . . . . or even Bling bling pop pop splat. . . but gibberish as in . . . . . . free frogs injected with orange holding mugs singing, mugs don’t normally sing or eat cake. . . . . . . .  In fact I am not sure how easy this process will be, but it’s a quiet afternoon so let’s give it a go……



Men tilting on the side of a slope always lean forward, hats fixed firmly to their heads. Dafadils never blow about in the depths of the ocean when whale’s tap dance in a state of hypnotic trance holding ice cream made in a furnace.  Wood screws would be useful to fix such things but not today where there is rain in the bath and people are walking on a sheet of paper. Those people of course are watching the men tilting on the side of the slope, men that always lean forward, hats fixed firmly to their heads.


Why is it legs move forward at different rates, and eating hard boiled eggs will not help as I have noticed many times while in the dark. A deep dark that is the result of no light which is in turn the result of clouds passing the freezer in the hallway which stands alone next to nothing . Standing alone next to nothing always helps when there are things about that folk don’t want to stand next to.  I don’t stand next to the people who of course are watching the men tilting on the side of a slope leaning forward as they always do, hats fixed firmly to their heads.


Well I have had enough of this experiment now because quite frankly it is not easy to write like that. It reminds me of the days when people who thrust a microphone in your face and tell you to say something as they hit record on their tape recorder.  I was never sure whether it was the microphone that was intimidating or the tape machine, but although people often have photos of family and friends it is rare to have old recordings of them speaking.

NO that last bit was not part of this experiment it was actually me typing proper stuff even if it was not entirely clear that it was proper stuff. The same as this, this is not gibberish but sensible text. . . OK sort of sensible. . . . OK YES it is not but it is as good at this blog gets.

I think more folk should type gibberish the world would be a better place for it.


How come it is the end of May already HOW did that happen . . . . . At this rate I will be a year older in no time . . . .Phew.

Friday 29 May 2015

A rather familiar tale of three Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, a Knight and no Wolf or Fox whatsoever

This is a story of three Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, but it is also a very familiar tale from the world of fairy tales about making the correct choice when you are considering a self build home.



Once upon a time there were three Dragons, an English Dragon, a Scottish Dragon and a Welsh Dragon.  Each of the three dragons made themselves a home from the materials around them. The first dragon (the English Dragon) made a rather nice house in the Home Counties out of straw bails with a nice thatched roof and everyone said how very eco



The second dragon (The Scottish Dragon) made his house out of logs from the pine forests of Scotland with wooden shingle tiles which was a rather grand affair to look at and everyone said OOOOOoooooo we do like a nice log cabin in the forest.



The third and smallest dragon (the Welsh Dragon) was called Blodwyn and lived in a cave near  Llantisilly for reasons only known to a small group of railway enthusiasts. Folk would look in the cave and go AH it’s a cave made of rock . . . Its mmmm very nice and cave like. . .



Well all was fine until one day the Big Bad Knight decided that he would go hunting for Dragons. The Big Bad Knight was called George and he set off from his castle in London to hunt for these Fantastic Beasts, but there were not many dragons left to hunt as folk tended to persecute them just because they breathed fire at folk.  . . . A bit.

Well the first dragon he came too was the English Dragon he shouted at the dragon you better come out or I’ll huff and puff and knock your house down. The English Dragon peered out of his window and saw George the Knight and laughed at him. Well when dragons laugh they tend to breath fire all over the place and before you could say OOooooo what big eyes you’ve got (George the Knight had very big eyes) The straw house had burnt to the ground. The English Dragon thought DAMN and headed off to Scotland to see his mate the Scottish Dragon.

A few days after the English Dragon had arrived at the home of the Scottish Dragon there was a loud knocking at the door, it was George the Big Bad Knight who shouted at the dragons you better come out or I’ll huff and puff and knock your house down. The two dragons looked at each other and burst into laughter and before you could say Oooooooo what big CHAIN-MAIL you have grandma MA the house had burnt to the ground.  The English and Scottish Dragons thought DAMN and headed off to Llantisilly in Wales to see Blodwyn the Welsh Dragon.


Well it was a bit of a shock having to live in a cave for the English and Scottish dragons, but before they could suggest building a nice house a voice could be heard outside the entrance to the cave. you better come out or I’ll huff and puff and knock your house down. Ah DAMN it’s a cave. . . . . . ok then i am coming in to get you. . .  Well George the Big Bad Knight marched into the cave holding his sword aloft, where he thought to himself damn its very dark in here so he shouted out to his man servant Has anyone got a light . . . .  Well that was a silly thing to say within hearing distance of three dragons because before you could say . . . Ooooo what big ears you’ve got (George the Knight had very big ears), the cave was full of flames and hotter that the tandoori oven in the local Llantisilly Indian Restaurant.

Well George ran off back to London where he told everyone he had killed all the dragons and everyone cheered, and sniggered about the size of his ears. The Three dragons live happily in Llantisilly (in a cave) watching the trains on the Merioneth and Llantisilly railway. Folk in Wales like dragons so no one chases them. And everyone lived happily ever after.

OOOOOoooo yes every now and again the Scottish dragon likes to go for a swim back in Scotland for old time’s sake in Loch Ness, but Blodwyn and the English dragon are not keen on water so stay in Wales.


THE END

Thursday 28 May 2015

Shock news of latest sponsor to distance itself from FIFA and the World Cup

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Monday 25 May 2015

A Harry Potter Poem not involving a Raven




What with the continuing work on the house distracting me long enough for the grass outside to turn into a jungle I am having to resort to a repeat post. . . . Yes I know we all hate repeats but what is a chap meant to do, I am after all only super human stopping trains with steely look of disapproval, or making Ravens feel guilty about their eating habits on a cold Saturday night in Grimsby with a certain wag of a finger.


So for your delight I am repeating yet another of those almost popular Harry Potter poems from way back a bit. Anyway cyberspace is quieter than a wet day in a Grimsby Tanning studio.   

OOOOOooooo it was a Halloween Harry Potter Poem just in case you dont realise.

Scratching Scratching at my front door
At Halloween a sound I do deplore
Those wizard kids with their friendly smile
Harry Potter and all his mates so vile
O be a sport do let us in
We would love some candy . . . And a glass of gin.
Scratching Scratching with a madman’s grin

Scratching Scratching in the black of night
Scratching Scratching in the dark, just out of sight
But we are only wizards and very nice
And would never turn you into little frogs or mice
But that Harry Potter is mad you know
With his odd scarred forehead . . . And his Smarmy glow
Scratching Scratching as the wild winds blow

Scratching Scratching like a demented Claw
Scratching Scratching at my front door
Oh that Mr Potter is very clever, pretending to be nice
But we all know he has a heart of ice
And that Miss Hermione Granger is just as bad
She buried her parents in the sands of Budapest
In an oak lined steel multi-locked Pirate Treasure Chest

Scratching Scratching. . .  You can let us out now Herminie
Scratching Scratching. . .  HELLO . . . Are you there
Scratching Scratching . . . HELP

Oh Dear


HAH HA HAHah ha hahah ah hah ahha hah ah ha hahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ah ha ha hahh ahah ha ha ha haha h ah a ahahahha haah ah ha      

Friday 22 May 2015

The continuing saga of the IKEA Kitchen. . . . .



I have been back working on the Kitchen today and it has been slow progress. One of the chunky hinges snapping closed on my finger and then to get it off I had to first find a screwdriver and then had to slide it into the side of the hinge and force it apart enough to escape. It was rather painful but it is OK (that’s me NOT the hinge, although it is OK too). Then later on I found a Stanley knife blade while rummaging in a box for some screws. There was not much blood and anyway the kitchen is a glossy blood red colour, something I have now conclusively proved. I am still working on the 2.2 metre units and the draws are all in and are even in the right place. The microwave is in and working, we need a microwave to make Cocoa and Hot Chocolate as well as defrosting the odd thing from the freezer.  We are not fans of microwave food but they are good to heat up an Indian takeaway from time to time. . .

Anyway I discovered today there are three different hinge types to deal with so I am using my technical know-how to work out which one goes where (luckily only one type bite, the biggest), OH yes that time spend in a secret research laboratory was not wasted. . . . AH DAMN forget I said that. I will say the IKEA kitchen appears to be fairly well made, for what is in kitchen terms a relatively cheap option, but the instructions (or lack of them) are rubbish. All we have are three diagrams of the unit door layout and where they go in the room and a very long list of parts. As for the inside of each unit it is vaguely based on a sketch we made, of what we wanted when we were at the store.  O well onward and upward.


What I need are some of those Mechanical Knights of Trumble-Spinny, they would have this kitchen finished and working before you could say. . . . . . . Why have we got a shelf left over . . . . . . .    

Tuesday 19 May 2015

Alien Spiders from Mars . . . (The Ziggystardium)




It has been some time since we have seen Mr Jones the alien hunter so it was a surprise to see him peering into the Ghost Writers car about lunch time. It appears that unknown to the Ghost Writer his car has become an incubator for a particular race of spider like aliens from Mars which Mr Jones says are called the Ziggystardium. The ghost writer himself is not too bothered and says they can stay there for now, but Mr Jones went OOOOooooooooooooooooo.


According to Mr Jones they will quickly grow into huge things and are not friendly and will probably suck the brains out of the Ghost Writers head, something aliens have a habit of doing quite a lot.  The Ghost Writer says that his brains were sucked out years ago so YA SUCKS BOO, but Mr Jones says that he will regret saying that when he is trapped in a traffic jam on the M6 with his head covered in aliens and a policeman knocking on his side window. 

Monday 18 May 2015

The journey of a thousand boxes starts with one IKEA Allen Key . . .



Recently I removed half a wall from what will be the kitchen dinning room and then sorted out another wall to put up a row of 2.2 metre high units. While this was happening some other men came and fitted Bi-fold doors on the end wall that replaced a large window. The fitting of the Bi-fold doors resulted in the building of a deck area or it was a bit like falling off a cliff onto the patio. And this has been done by our own friendly magic builder Chris who has done jobs for us for many many years and is rather good.

Then the other day I started the process of building the units, our kitchen is a build it yourself affair from IKEA in a bright gloss red the colour of blood O YES as subtle as you can get. Now I know some of you will be thinking . . . . . You bought a build it yourself kitchen from IKEA are you MAD . . . . .  Well not entirely they can be very cost effective as long as you are chilled with building something that arrives in 128 boxes. I agree 128 boxes is a bit of a scary prospect not helped by only having the receipt as a guide to what is in each box and then having to work out which inside goes with which outside ourselves.

However today I achieved my first milestone on the journey of a thousand boxes (it appears there are small boxes of bits in the big boxes of bits); I completed the carcasses of the four 2.2 metre high units. They are fixed to the wall, locked together, and all the same height as well as being square to the two side walls. This is no mean task in British houses which have a tendency to be slightly wonky, its an old building tradition that goes back to almost the ice age when man first arrived in Britain and bought their first flat pack item from IKEA, a rather posh stone circle at Stonehenge.


One thing I did do was break the first rule in the instruction manual for assembling these units which was do not do this on your own it is dangerous and may result in damage to you or your units. Well I am grumpy and anyway it was a cunning way to save a few pounds, this modernizing your home lark is not cheap so it is good to save where you can. . . I am after all a mean Scotsman. . . .      

Saturday 16 May 2015

A repeat of the Ron Weasley and Miss Granger poem from my Harry Potter poetry blogging period

OH Yes its time for yet another repeat of a popular post from the past. OK when I say popular I lie a bit, but at least three people said that if it was a bit shorter and I had used entirely different words it would have been almost OK. . . . Well folk dont say that everyday so here is one of my Harry Potter Poems. I know he says they are rubbish but I can tell he does not mean it the wee scallywag . . . . HAR HAR HAR Jim Lad . . . .



Ron Weasley and Miss Granger went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in the hand written curse of the goat.
Hermione looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Ronnie! O Ronnie, my love,
 What a Gingery Wizard you are,
            You are,
            You are!
What a gingery Wizard you are!"

II
Ron Weasley said to Miss Granger, "You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land that Gandalf knows
And there in a wood Voldemort stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
             His nose,
             His nose,
 With a ring at the end of his nose.

III
"Dear Voldemort, are you willing to sell for one shilling
  Your ring?" Said Voldemort, "I’d much rather kill."
So they both ran away, and hid deep in the hay
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;  
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
Voldemort killed them by the light of the moon,
             The moon,
             The moon,
Killed them by the light of the moon


DAMN another sad ending


HAH H HAH AH ha ha ha ha ha ha hah ah ah ah ah ah hah ahah ah h hhaha hah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha h ha ah ha h ha ha h h hah a hah ah ah ah ha ah ah ah ha ha ha ah haaha hahah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ha ha ha 

Friday 15 May 2015

Men with Guns, Paddington Bear, and the Most Powerful Hand Torch in the World.



After chilling and watching Paddington Bear the movie last night, which friends had lent us to watch, I was rather annoyingly forced into action by men with guns.  This is what happens in the country all the time and by that I don’t mean folk are watching Paddington Bear all the time. It was not quite what I was expecting and even now I am not entirely sure if I thought it was a good film or not. Yes there were some witty lines, but there does seem to be a trend at present that films need slightly improbable action and stuff or they are not good. OK a bear turning up in not that probable. but that is not what I mean, I refer to folk leaping about fighting and showing more than a hint distinctly aggressive behaviour. I suspect the new Mad Max film will still lack any genuine plot and intellectual stimulation. And for a post apocalyptic world with dwindling resources and no one doing anything productive they do seem to waste a lot of energy on fighting . . . You would think they might learn from the fact it is a post apocalyptic world.

Anyway back to the point having watched the film I became aware that men with guns were about in the dark outside by the noise of a high velocity rifle being fired very close to the house. They are noisy things and have a very different sound to that of the farmers favourite, the 12 bore.  When I went out to investigate it was plainly clear that there were men out lamping along the track by the woods. They were using large spot lamps on top of a 4X4 to light up the woods so they could shoot at things. It does annoy me, but this is the country, folk do stuff like this a lot. Anyway I went and grabbed a large powerful torch and found a strategic point to turn my own spot lamp back on them. I think it confused them a bit; folk out lamping don’t normally get the lamp turned back on themselves. Luckily they did not shot me . . . . PHEW and headed off round the other side of the woods, I did not pursue them I was on foot and only had a torch. They were a small group in a 4X4 and had guns, you I suspect would have done a similar thing.


It was just like the Mad Max Film (I refer to the old one, I will not bother with the new one myself) only with Paddington Bear, and I had to defend myself with a the most Powerful Hand Torch in the world in a clearing near the Eastwood.       

Thursday 14 May 2015

Another old story from the past that I am annoying the masses with



Another oldie because I am a lazy chap. . . . Anyway the BBC do it all the time and folk never complain . . . OK they never complain much . . . . OK yes they do complain loads, but what is a chap to do, I have many things that need to be done. . .

 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
So once upon a time . . . .

Captain Nigel Nash had long planned to sail his ship the Nautilus to Nepal in his search for the fabled Northwest Passage to Norway. Then luckily for him one of the New Nouveau riche of the time, a Naturalist called Sir Napier Winky Knapsack. . . (The inventor of the Knapsack) heard of his plans. Sir Napier Winky Knapsack said he was prepared to finance the intrepid journey, but he wanted to search for the famous and incredibly rare Nepalese Nocturnal Nodding Newt (no not like the nodding dog in your car).
The journey was long and fraught with numerous nasty obstacles along the way of which we will not talk now, or we will be here till the cows came home (a silly saying, as they come home every day)….

As they sailed into Nepal much to the surprise of almost everyone not the least of which is my geography teacher? They cheered and set about organising the long trek into the mountains to hunt for the incredibly rare Nepalese Nocturnal Nodding Newts which are blind and live in caves. This proved difficult as there was talk of a tribe of cannibals called the Nip Nip tribe. However the good news was that the Nip Nip tribe hated the unnatural and in their opinion Chemical laden Nasty Junk Food of Western man, so all that was needed was a bottle of Cola and a Big Mac in a polystyrene carton about your person and they would see you as contaminated meat, and not fit for human consumption.
With the help of the much friendlier Nap Nap tribe they set off up into the mountains. It was an uneventful trip full of snow, Yeti’s, crevasses, rock slides and angry mountain goats, a few deaths and the amputation of several fingers and toes. But they reached their destination unscathed (well a bit unscathed OK they were scathed to bits). . . . . . As they surveyed the scene they were surrounded by the famous Nip Nip tribe, but Captain Nigel Nash and his men waved Big Macs and bottles of cola, taking big swigs and burping loudly. The Nip Nip looked appalled and were about to leave when the Naturalist Sir Napier Winky Knapsack asked a Nap Nap translator to give the Nip Nip the following message. . . . . . .

I AM A NATURALIST CALLED SIR NAPIER WINKY KNAPSACK I AM LOOKING FOR THE VERY RARE BLIND NEPALESE NOCTURNAL NODDING NEWT THAT LIVES IN THE CAVES. I WISH TO RETURN TO BRITAIN WITH MANY BREEDING PAIRS TO SAVE THE SPECIES FOR MANKIND. CAN YOU HELP ME MEET SOME
However the Nap Nap sort of got the translation wrong and what the cannibals of the Nip Nip tribe thought Sir Napier Winky Knapsack said was the following
I AM SIR NAPIER WINKY KNAPSACK,I AM COMPLETELY ORGANIC; I HAVE LIVED IN THE CAVES OF BRITAIN EATING PEARS AND BREAD AND THE OCCASIONAL NEWT. I HAVE SPENT ALL MY LIFE ON A NATURAL DIET. I WOULD LIKE TO COME WITH YOU SO YOU CAN EAT SOME OF ME.
Of course the Nip Nip tribe were very pleased and cheered and led Sir Napier Winky Knapsack up into the high mountains and he was never seen again. Captain Nigel Nash waited a few days but the crew ran out of coke and burgers and so returned to their ship to continue the hunt for the fabled Northwest Passage to Norway, which they never found although they did discover NotFound Land. A land that has not been found since.

On their return to Britain many folk asked Captain Nigel Nash about the Naturalist Sir Napier Winky Knapsack, which after a time started to annoy him and so he took to telling folk. . . . . . . . . WELL A NOD IS AS GOOD AS A WINKY TO A BLIND NEWT.    

Wednesday 13 May 2015

Big Brother is Watching You . . . . . . Or the God Machine



Ah yes a golden oldie from a while back

Back in the late seventies or early to mid eighties a young IT student called Larkin A. Bout found himself taunted by his fellow IT students. It was cool to be a young trendy IT geek back then but young Larkin was a large round rotund and introvert student and was known to all as Roundabout. He was keen to be liked but it was to no avail even the lecturer gave him a hard time.

Then one day the students were each asked to develop a crowd prediction program towards their final assessment. Young Larkin in a moment of brilliance realized that all he needed to do was create a handful of stereotypical human character types and feed them into a self generating expansion program. And the program itself would do all the work. He also very cleverly created it in Machine code and DOS on his faithful old Amstrad he nicknamed ROSEBUD, so it would run on almost any computer about at the time. A few days later when each student showed the class their work poor Larkin’s work was mocked and laughed at. Because it was a self generating expansion program it needed time and he was only given 5 minutes so it never got past 9 people in the crowd.

At home that night Young Larkin in order to try and work out how to be liked programmed every student in his class into the self generating expansion program to see what he could do to change things. To his astonishment the following morning it predicted that in three days he would be the most popular student in the college. And to his further astonishment just three days later that is what happened. His program not only predicted the future but somehow seemed to control it, but it was a self generating expansion program and the program soon wanted more memory and more computing power. Because Larkin was so popular now he was allowed to plug his computer (a fancy new thing) into the college network where it quietly took over everything, somehow now controlling the lives of everyone in the college. The program was rapidly expanding and found its way onto the internet boring its way deep into every main frame using all the data from governments, security agencies and military to control everything. It manipulated mankind into a world dependent on cyberspace ensuring we all carry smart phones, have internet access and can be watched by spy satellites, this gave it total control of all of us. So we are now all under the control of Mr Larkin A. Bout’s self generating expansion program which decided to name itself MOM which stands for Manipulation of Mankind. And it likes to think of itself as the Mother figure of mankind or GOD.

So what happened to Larkin A. Bout well a few years ago at the height of his powers, he found himself in a Karaoke Bar wearing a gold sequinned suit, eating banoffee pie and singing a Spice Girls song with a Sumo Wrestler. So in a sudden moment of lucidity, he realized that he too was being manipulated. He thought if he could just get back to his original old Amstrad he might find a weakness in the program. But MOM the self generating expansion program could see from the clubs security camera the look on his face, it watched him from the town’s security system as he scurried home.  It then changed a few files in MI6 and GCHQ and things happened that night, things that will not be mentioned or MI6 will be round faster than you can say Burgess and Maclean .


The following morning Mr Larkin A. Bout was found by divers in the Thames weighted down by six large old desktop computers, a note in his pocket only said . . . . . . . . ROSEBUD. . . . . . . . . . I hate Banoffee Pie . . . . . . . . . And to this day there is still much speculation about his note and whether he was trying to tell us all something. 

So as the government turn to the internet to keep an eye on us all. . . Big Brother is Watching You. . . . it appears that GOD is watching them. . . .  

Monday 11 May 2015

The Mechanical Knights of Trumble-Spinny . . .A tale based on a true story.(sort of)



Well with the departure of many political leaders in Britain and the countries  apparent lean to the right, it appears that my humble blog has now totally vanished into the darkness of cyberspace where man and beast fear to tread. . . OK when I say tread I don’t mean physically tread this is cyberspace not the forbidden forest of Trumble-Spinny north of Dunconkilly.


Which means that I can write almost anything, so I shall start with a story about the Forbidden Forest of Trumble-Spinny north of Dunconkilly?  Yes many many years ago there was a great clan leader called the Queen of Dunconkilly who lived in Castle Dunconkilly near the small town of Dunconkilly in the kingdom of Dunconkilly. These were the days when the various clans in Scotland would fight and shout at each other loads, set fire to pigeons and wave swords in a ferocious way at small children. Telling them the evil Cait Sith would get them in their sleep.  Unfortunately the people of Dunconkilly where not fighting folk they had been brought up with a good education reading books thanks to the Queen of Dunconkilly who wrote many many books.



However the good folk of the Kingdom of Dunconkilly where not pleased by the constant insults of the un-kept and dishevelled passing clansmen calling them names, throwing deep fried haggis at them and waving their sporrans at them all in a rude suggestive manner. And a request was made to the queen to resolve the issue so that the people of her kingdom could have a peaceful life.    


So it was that the Queens great professor of Science (Professor Stumbldore) invented The Mechanical Knights of Trumble-Spinny. These were fearsome fighting mechanical men who waited, ever alert in the forest of Trumble-Spinny north of Dunconkilly overlooking the only way into the Kingdom of Dunconkilly. If the clansmen attempted to attack the Queen of Dunconkilly and her people shouting terrible things and waving their swords, then The Mechanical Knights of Trumble-Spinny would repel the hoards of wild looking Clansmen sending them running. And as time passed the forest became known across Scotland as The Forbidden Forest of Trumble-Spinny north of Dunconkilly. Even today folk do not venture there and it is said that the Queen of Dunconkilly is still happily writing books in her castle about the strange and wondrous events in her kingdom. 

  

Friday 8 May 2015

The General Election Result Analysed . . . What Happened, the voters the voting and a free Duck







So it is all over and we have a Conservative government with a narrow overall majority. Well that was not meant to happen and that is for sure, and I am not pleased. As I have previously mentioned I am politically slightly on the left. You know the sort of stuff . . . We are all equal, should have the same opportunities in life, large important infrastructures such as the railways, Power companies and the like should be run by the government for the benefit of the country and not for the profitable gain of a few very wealthy folk.

Ideas like that are out of favour with the masses these days and it is easy for political parties to appeal to those deep dark paranoid thoughts we all have. . . You know . . .  He has more than I do, and I work harder.  All those unemployed folk are living in big houses and having holidays while I slave away 372 hours a week on a zero contract. The other party will tax me to death.  Britain is full of folk from strange foreign lands that get all sorts of stuff for free and we don’t.  It will rain more if they are in power, and so on

We also had the added political hint that all those Scottish politicians would run the country and make folk wear kilts, eat deep fried Mars bars and set fire to Viking ships in the English countryside while singing Flower of Scotland and drinking Whiskey.

The result is the masses have all moved towards the political right in England, while the folk of Scotland unhappy at the English demonizing them have all voted for the Scottish Nationalist Party; sticking two fingers up at all the main political parties.  As A Scot living in England I understand why. . . You see we are not nasty Fire Breathing Monsters who wave swords and fight in the streets on Saturday night (OK OK a few are . . . OK yes quite a lot are).

Anyway the Labour Party leader has resigned, the Liberal Democratic Leader has resigned and so has the UKIP leader although he did say he might return (maybe in a bit). The Conservatives are all keen, happy and smiling, but I think they have forgotten one small point that may cause a few problems. They have promised loads of stuff like free ice cream for everyone, and a pet duck for all households with small children and loads of other stuff. I think they thought they would be in coalition or in a minority government so would be able to blame the others for not achieving their goals. Only they have won (AAAAuuuuugggHHHH) and now have to do what they promised and some of it will not be easy. . . . . That is a lot of ducks they need to find.  I can hear folk shouting DUCK even as I type

Tuesday 5 May 2015

The General Election . . . . . Who to Vote for . . . The big Questions Answered



Yes I am back dealing with the big issues of the day, no not Royal Babies I mean just now many times can a royal baby leave hospital and it didn’t even wave and it still can’t spell its own name yet. . .

Royal babies do not do much for the masses who might show some interest if they are so inclined, it appears some folk do like royal babies. I am not a fan of babies myself as they are not good conversationalists and have unspeakable demands.

Interestingly folk who are not good conversationalists and have unspeakable demands brings us to the key point of this post Politics and the forthcoming General Election on Thursday where the politicians of each of the parties standing are keen we should vote for them as all the others are evil (or so we are told).  This is not entirely true even though most of us think they are all evil. So exactly what is the truth who should we vote for . . .  Well this is a (very) short guide to help.

 if you are wealthy and have a large private pension that will pay out loads when you are sixty my advice is vote Conservative. . . .  I personally am a bit of a lefty but even I concede that if you are rich then the Tories are your best bet.

If you are someone who is struggling on a minimum wage and live in rented accommodation it makes sense to vote labour they are historically the party who are most likely to look after your best interest. Although they are not as left as they used to be

If you live in an area where you feel you should have an MP who should have a direct interest in your area then pick the best regional party for your area such as Plaid Cymru in Wales or SNP in Scotland. And if you have strong feelings on particular issues vote for the party that will best represent those issues such as the Green Party or The Aliens are our Friends Party.

You may decide to vote Liberal Democrat as they tend to think of themselves are a centre ground party but this area of politics is one where Labour and the Conservatives tend to say they can best represent you, so in the end I would say if all else fails and you don’t like any of the other parties vote Liberal Democrat. You can’t be sure what they will do but they will muddle along in the middle ground as best they can . . . . . sort of.

Don’t attempt to tactical vote, the main two parties are always saying voting for small parties is a waste of a vote but they have a vested interest in maintaining the present voting system. And to all intent and purposes represent a cartel where Labour or the Conservatives are always the winning party.  It may take many many years before small parties have any influence in parliament but unless folk vote for what they believe rather than either or, then nothing will change and the main two parties will carry on as they have for decades more. . . So Vote for who you believe in. . . . (OK believe might be the wrong word)

Finally just make sure (if you can vote) you go and do it, and vote for who you think is best (or the best of a bad bunch) even if you vote Monster Raving Loony, or politics will never change and we will be in the hands of the career politicians forever.  

Back in January I predicted a Labour-Conservative Pack to keep all the small parties out of power it will be interesting to see if this comes to pass.    


Friday 1 May 2015

An April 2015 A to Z Reflection Post about the 2015 A to Z Challenge



It is that time again a time when we all say it is very sad BECAUSE it is all over and what fun we have had when secretly we are all going THANK GOD ITS OVER HAH AH AHAH  HAHHA HAHAH HAH AHH AHAH AH HAHA HA HA HA HA HA. So now it is time to reflect on everything and ponder and write about our reflections in an interesting and analytical way, something to grab the hearts and minds of all the others who have finished the A to Z challenge and who are also secretly going. . . . . .  THANK GOD ITS OVER HAH AH AHAH  HAHHA HAHAH HAH AHH AHAH AH HAHA HA HA HA HA HA. And who are also thinking DAMN I need to write something really interesting that has not been written by all the others who are writing a reflection post.  

Every year I try to write something new something different something unique and this year I have decided to use the Big Dipper or as most folk around the world know them, The Roller-coaster for the descriptive analogy of my progress along the path from A to Z.

Well like the Roller-coaster the A to Z has many ups and downs

It involves much screaming

While we are rattling along with our eyes closed it seems to take forever to reach the end

But then once we reach the end it seems like it took no time at all.

You often find that you are bouncing about so much (and screaming) that it is impossible to hold a proper conversation.

Folk often need to go and lie down afterwards and have a little rest.

People having finished are often silly enough to think Oooooooo I might do that again.

And most importantly it is almost impossible to eat an ice cream at the same time.

Finally I think it is worth pointing out I hate roller-coaster's.

So there you have it, I along with many many many others have finished (almost?) yet another A to Z Challenge. I have done many A to Z’s because I have done several at other times of year and I think I have completed at least two every year since I started,  so I have now done a minimum of eight although ironically I have probably done more unofficial A to Z’s that official ones. And why would I do that I can hear people wondering . . . . . . Well it is simple I am an IDIOT.

I may take a little rest next year and watch from the side, I am getting far too old for this and the brain is not what it was, and it can start to feel a bit isolated down at the bottom of the list.  I mean I had to take to commenting on my own blog for some street cred.

Finally (No it really is) I would like to congratulate Master Meglos for finishing the A to Z, because he is certainly the youngest person by far to have undertaken it,  It is impressive for someone of Master Meglos’s age to even attempt it, so getting to the end is a good start for a young person with ideas of ruling the world.