Hey its Monday
Well I have spent the morning in a meeting with a man who managed to spread a simple report across five pages of A4. I would have managed to get it on a page and a half at the most. Who do public servants pad out reports with so much crap?
Still down here in sunny Cornwall the rain is once again spreading joy in the hearts of the holiday makers, bloody ambulance sirens have been going all day, god knows how they think anyone is supposed to get any sleep when they are at work!
This morning I arried at work at the same time as the bitch in the next office so ended up parking next to her. This ain’t a problem but at lunchtime she sent me a text saying that I was parked in her space. There’s 400 parking spaces in the car park what’s she winging about. Then I thought she’s in the next office shall I text her or email her or phone. After all I did not want to walk in, so I do think that modern communication systems have destroyed the art of conversation, that and the fact that the bitch would give me a wedgie if I fart in her office.
But does she care when she farts in mine? No way I have known her go into the fileing room and drop one off in there then shut the door so it stays there for some one else to suffer.
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Why do some people like Sundays ? Me I hate them with a passion. Get up late and have breakfast then start to get ready for work the next week, iron shirts make sure that I have creases in my trousers, clean my work shoes. Then take the WWW out shopping have lunch in one of the local supermarkets.
This morning I had a real treat I had to pull some weeds up in the front garden that have grown through the membrane that I installed two years ago to stop anything growing through (fat lot of good that was). Well the problem was not pulling up the weeds but then I decided to get tough With the brambles as well, hey I’m big if I pull something it normally moves.
These bloody things just laughed at me, in the end I cut them down. Felt good about that finally I had won. Nope wrong, I must have been kneeling on an ants nest.
The buggers have used me for their Sunday lunch.
Life is so unfair
Hey, why is life so unfair. Here was me thinking that I might just get some me time today and what happens, the WWW as I know my wife (wicked witch of the west). Phones me up to say that her bus has not turned up, now that means that I will have to get dressed and go and pick her up to take her to her mothers.
If I don’t then she might stay at home for the day and that’s the last thing I want her to do. I had today all planned in my mind. Have a big unhealthy breakfast then surf the net for a few hours then get onthe Wii Fit thingie for a while and see what added insults that can bring to my life, how can a games consul insult you I hear you ask? Well this one can it keeps saying that my age if far more that it is. Once you pass 50 you become very sensative about age.
Time just has a way of flying by and its no respector of good looks charm and brilliance. Not that I have any of those.
The first post on a new system
I have tried several different blog systems in my time but wanted one i could update from my iphone. Is this wordpress the answer to what I have been looking for. Only time will tell.
So here goes a new home, pity about the curtains.
Joke,, Bad Dog,,Joke
queue in Tesco’s………
I have 2 dogs and I was buying a large bag of
Winalot in Tesco and was standing in the queue at the till.
A woman
behind me asked if I had a dog.
On impulse, I told her that no, I was
starting the ‘Winalot Diet’ again, although I probably shouldn’t because I’d
ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I
awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices
and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet
and the way that it works is to load your trouser pockets with Winalot nuggets
and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry and that the food is
nutritionally complete, so, I was going to try it again.
I have to
mention here that practically everyone in the queue was by now enthralled with
my story, particularly a guy who was behind her.
Horrified, she asked if
I’d ended up in the hospital in that condition because I had been poisoned.
I told her no, it was because
I’d been sitting in the road licking my balls and a car hit me.
I
thought one guy was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard as he
staggered out the door.
Stupid cow……….why else would I buy dog
food??
Are the cash cow cameras on their way out??????
What a shock, when they can no longer keep the money they rob from the public they want to get rid of the cash cow cameras. I say lets not only get rid of the cameras lets get rid of the politicians as well.
After all they have their noses in the trough or in our pockets all the time. Just what has caused the currant credit crunch we all hear about as the reason why more and more of the money is disappearing from our pockets, and making its way into there’s.
And, in this time of uncertainty, people are rightly asking politicians: what’s your plan?
Yep I know they plan to have very expensive meetings to raise the level of their expenses and their own pay at the expense of the rest of us who have to keep pay rises below 3% or what ever they decide to call the inflation rate this week.
We all know that its far more likely to be around 12% than 3. But when can we the working people of this country claim out meals on expenses, or a new kitchen or wide screen televisions.
You will wish that you had written this?
Subject: Passport Application
Dear Minister,
I’m in the process of renewing my passport but I am a total loss to understand or believe the hoops I am being asked to jump through.
How is it that Bert Smith of T.V. Rentals Basingstoke has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a satellite dish from them back in 1994, and yet, the Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date?
How come that nice West African immigrant chappy who comes round every Thursday night with his DVD rentals van can tell me every film or video I have had out since he started his business up eleven years ago, yet you still want me to remind you of my last three jobs, two of which were with contractors working for the government?
How come the T.V. Detector van can tell if my T.V. Is on, what channel I am watching and whether I have paid my licence or not, and yet if I win the government run lottery they have no idea I have won or where I am and will keep the bloody money to themselves if I fail to claim in good time.
Do you people do this by hand?
You have my birth date on numerous files you hold on me, including the one with all the income tax forms I’ve filed for the past 30-odd years. It’s on my health insurance card, my driver’s licence, on the last four passports I’ve had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I’ve had to fill out before being allowed off the planes and boats over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done every ten years and the electoral registration forms I have to complete, by law, every time our lords and masters are up for re-election.
Would somebody please take note, once and for all, I was born in Maidenhead on the 4th of March 1957, my mother’s name is Mary, her maiden name was Reynolds, my father’s name is Robert, and I’d be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and the day I die!
I apologise Minister. I’m obviously not myself this morning. But between you and me, I have simply had enough! You mail the application to my house, then you ask me for my address. What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthals working there? Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don’t want to activate the Fifth Reich for God’s sake! I just want to go and park my weary backside on a sunny, sandy beach for a couple of week’s well-earned rest away from all this crap.
Well, I have to go now, because I have to go to back to Salisbury and get another copy of my birth certificate because you lost the last one. AND to the tune of 60 quid! What a racket THAT is!! Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day? But nooooo, that’d be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You’d rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some tosser to confirm that it’s really me on the goddamn picture – you know… The one where we’re not allowed to smile in in case we look as if we are enjoying the process!
Hey, you know why we can’t smile? ‘Cause we’re totally jacked off!
I served in the armed forces for more than 25 years including over ten years at the Ministry of Defence in London. I have had security clearances which allowed me to sit in the Cabinet Office, five seats away from the Prime Minister while he was being briefed on the first Gulf War and I have been doing volunteer work for the British Red Cross ever since I left the Services. However, I have to get someone ‘important’ to verify who I am — you know, someone like my doctor…
Who, before he got his medical degree 6 months ago WAS LIVING IN PAKISTAN…
Yours sincerely,
An Irate British Citizen. <!– /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman","serif"; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-size:10.0pt; mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt 72.0pt; mso-header-margin:36.0pt; mso-footer-margin:36.0pt; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:SectionSubject: Passport Application
Dear Minister,
I’m in the process of renewing my passport but I am a total loss to understand or believe the hoops I am being asked to jump through.
How is it that Bert Smith of T.V. Rentals Basingstoke has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a satellite dish from them back in 1994, and yet, the Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date?
How come that nice West African immigrant chappy who comes round every Thursday night with his DVD rentals van can tell me every film or video I have had out since he started his business up eleven years ago, yet you still want me to remind you of my last three jobs, two of which were with contractors working for the government?
How come the T.V. Detector van can tell if my T.V. Is on, what channel I am watching and whether I have paid my licence or not, and yet if I win the government run lottery they have no idea I have won or where I am and will keep the bloody money to themselves if I fail to claim in good time.
Do you people do this by hand?
You have my birth date on numerous files you hold on me, including the one with all the income tax forms I’ve filed for the past 30-odd years. It’s on my health insurance card, my driver’s licence, on the last four passports I’ve had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I’ve had to fill out before being allowed off the planes and boats over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done every ten years and the electoral registration forms I have to complete, by law, every time our lords and masters are up for re-election.
Would somebody please take note, once and for all, I was born in Maidenhead on the 4th of March 1957, my mother’s name is Mary, her maiden name was Reynolds, my father’s name is Robert, and I’d be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and the day I die!
I apologise Minister. I’m obviously not myself this morning. But between you and me, I have simply had enough! You mail the application to my house, then you ask me for my address. What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthals working there? Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don’t want to activate the Fifth Reich for God’s sake! I just want to go and park my weary backside on a sunny, sandy beach for a couple of week’s well-earned rest away from all this crap.
Well, I have to go now, because I have to go to back to Salisbury and get another copy of my birth certificate because you lost the last one. AND to the tune of 60 quid! What a racket THAT is!! Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day? But nooooo, that’d be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You’d rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some tosser to confirm that it’s really me on the goddamn picture – you know… The one where we’re not allowed to smile in in case we look as if we are enjoying the process!
Hey, you know why we can’t smile? ‘Cause we’re totally jacked off!
I served in the armed forces for more than 25 years including over ten years at the Ministry of Defence in London. I have had security clearances which allowed me to sit in the Cabinet Office, five seats away from the Prime Minister while he was being briefed on the first Gulf War and I have been doing volunteer work for the British Red Cross ever since I left the Services. However, I have to get someone ‘important’ to verify who I am — you know, someone like my doctor…
Who, before he got his medical degree 6 months ago WAS LIVING IN PAKISTAN…
Yours sincerely,
An Irate British Citizen.
Not One Of Us.
Now what idiot think that they can use a “company” credit card for personal expenditure. The Metropolitan POLICE Commander that’s who.
He must or should know, that other officers in his force are under investigation for the self same thing. He would have had the finial say on their punishment, the old saying of pots and kettles springs to mind. Or rather do as I say not as I do.
How much longer do we the idiots paying for these monstrous !uck ups have to continue? From the news stories it is blatantly obvious that the man was promoted not on his abilities but to ensure the Metropolitan Police did not end up with a court case of racialism. Now I have been known to call people names! Whats wrong with the truth? Ho I forgot here in the United Kingdom we now longer have any right to the truth.
The married police chief, who had six mistresses, was also was accused of drug abuse, hiring prostitutes, spying for Iran and making a series of threatening phone calls to a former girlfriend.
He allegedly warned her: ‘I will take such revenge from you that, like a dog, you will be sorry.’
Now I do not mind him threatening his former girlfriend and I do not really mind him stealing money from the people of London (they have too much as it is), what pisses me of is that he may have been cruel to a dog. If so he should be castrated, preferably with two house bricks.
‘It will be interesting to see if he is treated as robustly as other officers who have been caught up in the expenses probe.’ Remembering that he was at the centre of a four-year £4m investigation over allegations of perverting the course of justice and misconduct in public office.
Operation Helios, the extraordinary Scotland Yard investigation into corruption allegations made against the Iranian-born Dizaei, which emerged shortly after he had joined the Met from the Thames Valley force.
He was cleared of the charges by the Old Bailey in 2003.
Blears PC loss – officials blamed
Information on a computer stolen from Communities Secretary Hazel Blears‘ office had been sent in breach of data security rules, it has emerged. So reports the BBC.
If the Mp’s of this country had to pay for the bits of kit they leave all over the place maybe they would look after it.
Normal people have to save for months to afford a new laptop, I bet this one cost her nothing in money but its cost her a whole load of political trouble.
Wonder of wonders, what excuse did they come up with ? The Communities and Local Government department admitted its officials had “not fully” complied with guidance on handling sensitive data.
This fills me with dread after all the information that our government departmental officials have managed to LOSE over the past 12 months. But they are still going ahead with the ill thought out idea of ID cards.
I say lets treat them like bras were treated in my youth, big bomb fires spring to mind.
Drivers now charged almost £2 a litre
Shameful, discussing, profiteering. These are what during the Second World War they used to call the black marketeers. To be honest tar and feathering was too good for them and far to good for greedy garage owners who are profiteering from this fuel strike.
I hope that when the strike is over that the tanker drivers REFUSE TO DELIVER to garages who are charging vastly inflated prices for the few precious litres of fuel that they are supplying to desperate motorist.
At the very least the motorists who normally fuel up at these garages should start a boycott until the garage owners go bankrupt. This may well serve as a warning to others.
The biggest con appears to be by a Devon petrol station boss charging drivers £1.99 a litre – more than £9 a gallon – for petrol and diesel. Prices at the BWOC Foxhayes Garage at Exwick, Exeter, Devon, are nearly double the average £1.18 pence per litre price for petrol in the area.
Since this appears to be such a bad case of exploitation this garage has been added to the Pigs at the Trough web site normally reserved for our esteemed leaders.
