Well that’s that then. Not that I’ll have any time off around the Olympics to be able to attend anyway, but the family wanted to go.
What a fucking cock-up that was. If hear that jumped up little toffee-nosed squirt (Coe) come on telly another time and say how ‘fair’ the whole system was, I’ll check the TV through his bedroom window.
Of course it’s completely fair that Ã‚Â hundreds of thousands of people get fuck-all while one knob who happens to have Ã‚Â a lot of money gets Ã‚Â£11,000′ worth of tickets out of a Ã‚Â£30,000 request.
It’s completely fair that people we know got all Ã‚Â£1,000′ Ã‚Â worth of ticketsÃ‚Â they applied forÃ‚Â while everyone else we know, including family Weeks, got zilch.
It’s completely fair that the British have to go through some stupid bloody system which means you have to take a complete financial leap in the darkwith absolutely no idea how much to bet , what you’ll get,if anything, nor how much it will cost you, while everyone else in Europe can go and buy the exact tickets they want when they want to pay for them.
And completely fair that the people who will be competing in the games can’t get tickets for their own family to see them in the pinnacles of their Ã‚Â careers.
Long time followers of this blog will chuckle at the irony that the only tickets left if the Weeks family want to see the Olympics are bloody football!
Fairness? Coe doesn’t know the meaning of the word.
How come work gets in the way of real life so much? It seems I never have any time to do the things I want or need to be doing. The amount of stuff I can’t do these days just seems to increase with every month.
We’ve been going through some major reworkings of Ã‚Â Weeks Towers this year & while we are in a position to pay little men to do the work, whereas years ago I’d have done it all myself, there is still so much I need to do to prepare for the arrival of the little men.
We’re having a major refit upstairs which will mean that the loft needs to be cleared above one of the rooms so the electrician can get in & work his magic. The thing is there is more stuff in my loft than there is in my house. It’s not just a case of moving a few boxes around.
Mrs Weeks does not understand this when she arranges for these things to take place, she doesn’t take into consideration what shifts I might be on & when I’ll be available to sort the loft out. I can’t get time off because you can hardly get time off for anything except if you die & then they’d expect you to ring in the following day to let them know whether you were still dead.
Apparently I’ve got 2 weeks to sort the loft out which means probably a maximum of 6 full days, 2 of which I’ll be sleeping because of a night shift, & 3 of which I’ve already made plans for months ago.
Then later in August she’s arranged for a man to come & build a new shed. Which is fine except he won’t be emptying the old shed, so I’ll have to do that too & I so wanted to go on holiday in August but now have to knock a few days off one end of it so I can sort the bloody shed out.
I think she’s got a list somewhere which will cover me until I’m about 73. I daren’t look at it.
My attention was drawn to another story of another sponging fuckwit this week when I read about Keith MacDonald.
His main claim to fame is having 7 children with 7 different women & another on the way with an eighth woman. He’s managed to achieve this stirling effort in the ‘let other people bring up my kids’ stakes at the ripe old age of 24.
He claims incapacity benefit for a bad back & chest but still manages to hold down a full time job (without the knowledge of the local free money department) working in a shop, so as well as his wages he gets Ã‚Â£67.75 a week in free cash supplied by some people with presumably better morals than he has so far demonstrated. He is quoted as saying: “They won’t stop my benefits. They can’t touch me. I might as well make as much money as I can. This makes me some money for myself that the mums can’t get their hands on.”
Because he is on benefits he only pays the mothers of his kids Ã‚Â£1.11 a week for child maintenance which comes straight out of his benefits. The Sun calculates that all the benefits paid to bring up his children until the age of 18 will amount to Ã‚Â£1 million.
I’ve decided that if ever I am suspected of a crime or a moral faux par, I want to be tried by the Court of Public Opinion rather than a court of law. I have more faith that said court would act on what is right & proper rather than what is the favoured polictically correct motive of the day, and if I had done it, at least I’d get a decent sentence.
Harriet Harman, Deputy Labour Leader – and therefore someone you’d expect to be singing from the same hymn sheet as the rest of the party aparatchiks – stated yesterday that Sir Fred Shyster, some bank executive who presided over the bank’s loss of a million, trillion, quintilion squidly-diddlies, was not going to get his pension, not no-how, not if the government has anything to do with it.
Not that the government will have anything to do with it, since he probably got his pension quite legally according to the laws & constituitions of said money-swallowing operation.
Even Gordy appears to be talking down Ms Harman’s blethoring rhetoric. It really does beggar belief that such a high-ranking member of the government can talk such utter bloody nonsense (actually, cancel that, it’s situation normal), and believe the public will swallow it hook, line & sinker.
If the Court of Public Opinion is such an important arbiter of government policy, how come we went to war in Iraq? Why are so many foreigners allowed into the country & why was capital punishment abolished?
I don’t suppose for a moment it would have anything to do with saying what they think the public wants to hear & cashing in on the short term capital, at all?
It’s difficult to appreaciate that I’ve finished work as a police officer. It really only feels like I’m on leave at the moment. Still, looking forward to a few more weeks, maybe it will set in a bit later.
I spent the day driving round to all the local car retailers. I’ve decided to get a new car. It will possibly be the first thing I do with my commutation. The current model has been with us a few years so it feels right to go out and get something better.
I did have a look at a couple of brand new models but not sure whther to get one or to settle for something a couple of years old. I’ve never had a new car before…. come to think of it, I probably won’t, but hey, it’s nice to go in & test drive something & for the salesman to swoon over you when they think you’re in the market for a new car.
One of the guys I spoke to just gave me the keys & told me to take it for a spin, no proof of ID, no licence check, not taking my name & address. I could have gottenaÃ‚Â freeby there – I must have an honest face.
The fact that I am able to post something today is testament to my superior IT skills in upgrading my laptop; it’s still alive & able to do laptop-type things, hurrah!
I was reminded this week about a recent posting where an MP was complaining about police officers earning extra money. I entitled the item ‘Standards of a double nature”. The subject has reared its head this week, firstly with the allegations that some of the most privileged people in the land aren’t averse to lining their pockets with even more free cash by offering to accept money to influence legislation.
“We’ve done nothing wrong” they say in the House of Lords, well they would, wouldn’t they? I guess there is a fine line between taking a bribe and offering consultancy.
Then, today we see the case of that other MP, Derek Conway, who was censured last year for paying his youngest son lots of tax payers’ cash for doing work he never actually did. This week he’s been told to repay several grand for overpaying his oldest son for similar ‘work’. His family managed to get quarter of a million quid between them from expenses.
Then there is/was the JohnÃ‚Â Lewis list where MPs can choose all manner of goodies for their second houses, not to mention all the ‘consultancy fees’ while they have a full-time job as an MP. At least the Lords don’t get paid for being in the House.
And while we’re at it, I might as well throw in the cash for questions debacle & the goverment giving seats in the House of Lords to people who have donated to the party, or offering lordships to disgraced MPs who have had to resign several times due to various indiscretions (Mandelson, among others). And it’s OK to be a convicted criminal & be in the House fo Lords (Archer).
Don’t talk to me about bloody politicians.
(I know, you didn’t)
(And of course I accept that there are lots of MPs & Lords who do the job because they truly want to make life better for us, they’re not all money-grabbing, corrupt, selfish individuals who should be in prison)
After my recent post on economics, I have found something to help me understand both politics & economics at the same time…. (it’s not my own work)
SOCIALISM – You have 2 cows. You give one to your neighbour.
COMMUNISM – You have 2 cows. The State takes both and gives you some milk.
FASCISM – You have 2 cows. The State takes both and sells you some milk.
NAZISM – You have 2 cows. The State takes both and shoots you.
BUREAUCRATISM – You have 2 cows. The State takes both, shoots 1 , milks the other, and then throws the milk away…
TRADITIONAL CAPITALISM – You have 2 cows. You sell 1 and buy a bull. Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.
SURREALISM – You have 2 giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons .
AN AMERICAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of 4 cows. Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.
ENRON VENTURE CAPITALISM – You have 2 cows. You sell 3 of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all 4 cows back, with a tax exemption forÃ‚Â 5 cows. The milk rights of the 6 cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells the rights to all 7 cows back to your listed company. The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on 1 more. You sell 1 cow to buy a new president of the United States, leaving you with 9 cows. No balance sheet provided with the release. The public then buys your bull.
A FRENCH CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You go on strike, organise a riot, and block the roads, because you want 3 cows.
A JAPANESE CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce 20 times the milk. You then create a clever cow cartoon image called ‘Cowkimon’ and market it worldwide.
A GERMAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.
AN ITALIAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows, but you don’t know where they are. You decide to have lunch.
A RUSSIAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You count them and learn you have 5 cows. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. You count them again and learn you have 2 cows. You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
A SWISS CORPORATION – You have 5000 cows. None of them belongs to you. You charge the owners for storing them.
A CHINESE CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You have 300 people milking them. You claim that you have full employment , and high bovine productivity. You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.
AN INDIAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. You worship them.
A BRITISH CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. Both are mad.
AN AUSTRALIAN CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. Business seems pretty good. You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.
A NEW ZEALAND CORPORATION – You have 2 cows. The one on the left looks very attractive.
Bloody hell, no wonder the government want lots of free cash to boost the old coffers; it must be to make up for the billions of wasted cash the government have mis-managed over tax credits. You know tax credits, the scheme introduced to replace family allowance (& presumably to save money, why else to the government change things?).
You might also remember them because of the furore when some idiot posted CDs containing the personal details of millions of us who are claiming tax credits when they went missing.
Apparently, £14 billion has been lost in fraud, error & overpayment in just 4 years. The National Audit Office found that up to £1.5 billion was lost through fraud in 2007 alone bringing to £7.3 billion losses as a result of bogus claims in the last 4 years. £6.7 billion has been overpaid, only £2 billion of which has been taken back.
It’s really hard to comprehend. I think most people would be pretty concerned if you said a few million quid a year was just disappearing due to the inefficiency of a system brought in to streamline & improve the process, but fourteen thousand million???
My eldest is currently in the hunt for a suitable university in which she can run up a huge debt & fritter away my commutation.To that end, we’re in the midst of trips up & down the length & breadth of the land.
This week we decided to use the train. With petrol at around £1 a molecule we thought it might be cheaper to let the train take the strain. When I got to the ticket office I told the girl with a face like someone had filled it full of sour lemons & kicked it that I only wanted to sit in the train, not buy it but she just looked at me. If my kid ends up wanting to go to this university she can bloody well stay there for three years ‘cos there’s no way I’m funding a train fare every time she wants her washing done.
The whole train thing is a bit alien to me these days. The last time I went on one it was driven by a chap with soot on his face & I paid in groats.
For a start we couldn’t find anywhere to sit; all the seats which weren’t taken were piled up with discarded top secret Al Qaeda files. By the time we made our way through the first 2 carriages we’d been approached by 4 people offering to sell us stolen government laptops, disguised as bottles of water. Mind you, by the end of the journey I’d have paid laptop prices for a bottle of water.
For the money you pay on a train you’d have thought you could at least expect to sit down. It was nearly 2 hours before we got a seat. There wasn’t a single pregnant female available to offer me hers, outrageous.
The university looked quite nice. You could tell where the priorities lay though; the student union (or bar) was the size of Leichtenstein. I’m not too sure about the accommodation though. I don’t know about you but when I go to sleep at night I generally prefer my feet & head to be in the same room.
Overall, I think we were reasonably impressed with the place which would have been even better if it wasn’t for all the students.
We’ve got 4 more to check out. These appear to have been chosen by my child, not for their educational excellence but for how far away they are from my house. It’s such a serious situation that I’m even considering doing some overtime to cover the train/petrol costs.
Actually, that last bit is a complete lie, it’s not that bad!
Footballers are amongst the last people I’d ever listen to for many reasons, some of which are contained in recent posts. However, I was quite impressed this week on hearing one interviewed on BBC Radio 5 Live. Unfortunately, I can’t recall who it was. It may have been Gary mabbutt, I know he was talking about something but I can’t remember whether it was this topic or something else.
Basically, it was to do with resepct for the referee. There has been a lot of talk recently about footballers & the way they act on the pitch (& off it, come to that) particularly towards the referee. I think someone who gets paid a squillion pounds a minute for kicking a windbag around a field & diving all over the place turned his back on a referee who was admonishing him last weekend.
There were contrasts between football referees & rugby. I played rugby both at school & local club levels when I was a young PC. I remember that the referee’s word was God. You never argued & if you ever spoke to one or acknowledged him you used the word ‘sir’.
On the rare occasions you did back-chat the ref he would pick up the ball & march your team 15 yards back towards your own line. If you made a comment about that, he’d march you back another 15 yards. Do that once or twice & the rest of the team will make sure you never open your mouth again. As far as I’m aware that is s til the case today; I heard one of the England internationals on the radio this week saying they still called the ref ‘sir’.
Anyway, back to the footballer, Mabbutt or whoever it was.
He basically said that if footballers & managers can’t show the referee some respect & find it acceptable to argue the toss over every decision, swear at them & slag them off at every opportunity then is it any surprise that the rest of society is like this all the time. He acknowledged the important tole footballers have to play as models for a large section of society & appeared to accept that they were letting society down, badly.
Mind you, it was less refreshing today when one of the managers came on the radio to say if referees want respect then they ought to give it to the players. With that attitude form one of the guys who runs the teams, there’s really not much hope.
Footballers. Living proof, if any were required, that simply having huge amounts of money doesn’t make it any more likely that you’ve got more than one functioning brain cell.
Take Everton star, Tim Cahill, who scored against Portsmouth at the weekend. His goal-line celebration consisted of a tribute to his brother who happens to be serving a six-year sentence for partially blinding a man in an unprovoked attack during which he kicked Christopher Stapley twice in the head after taking a run-up at him.
Cahill pretended to be in handcuffs after scoring the goal on Sunday in honour of his jailed brother.
With the youth of today going to hell in a handcart & a generation lost to avarice, selfishness & the me, me, me ethic, is this really the type of person we want to hold up as a role model?
Come to that, are footballers in general the kind of people we want our innocent impressionable youngsters looking up to? They are the most dishonest of all sportsmen playing a game which is almost based on cheating in order to win. They fall over at the drop of a hat, writhing in agony until the decision goes their way whereupon they rise faster than Lazarus on speed.
Bunch of overpaid, cheating, prima donnas, the lot of ’em.
If I’m not happy about something the most I usually do is bitch about it with Dave at work, it doesn’t do any good but it makes you feel better afterwards. I don’t work with Dave but sometimes we overlap; he’s on a different shift. Carol is also on another shift & when I overlap with her we usually spend most of the time bitching about this & that.
I see some people in London also like bitchin’ about stuff. They do it in a rather more ‘open’ way though. It does strike me as rather quaint that anyone with a poliitical point to make can wander off the streets of our capital, climb onto the roof of one of the most well-known buildings in the world & bitch about stuff.
I think this is how we should deal with rooftop protests….
A major earthquake measuring 5.8 on the Richter scale hit in the early hours of last night. Epicentre: Basildon, Essex. Victims were seen wandering around aimlessly muttering "fackin ‘ell" and "whattacant" The earthquake decimated the area causing approximately £30.00 worth of damage. Several priceless collections of mementoes from the Balearics, Spanish Costas and Romford market were damaged beyond repair. Three areas of historic burnt out cars were disturbed. Many locals were woken well before their giro arrived.
Essex FM News reported that hundreds of residents were confused and bewildered, still trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting had happened in Basildon. One resident – Tracy Sharon Smith, a 15-year-old mother of 5 said "It was such a shock, my little Chardonnay Mercedes came runnin’ into my bedroom cryin’. My younges’ two, Ashley ‘n’ Brooklyn, slep’ froo it all. I was still shakin’ when I was watchin’ Kilroy the next mornin’." Apparently though, looting, muggings and car crime did carry on as normal. Rescue workers found one girl in the rubble smothered in claret [slang for blood]; "Where are you bleeding from?" they asked her. "Bleedin’ Romford," said the girl "woss that gotta do with it?"
The British Red Cross has so far managed to ship 4,000 crates of Pepsi max to the area to help the stricken locals. Rescue workers are still searching through the rubble and have found large quantities of personal belongings, which include benefit books, jewellery from Elizabeth Duke at Argos and Bone China from Poundland.
HOW CAN YOU HELP
This appeal is to raise money for food and clothing, parcels for those unfortunate to be caught up in this disaster. Clothing is most sought after, items most needed include: Fila or Burberry baseball caps, Kappa tracksuit tops (his and hers), shell suits (female), white sport socks, Rockport boots and any other items usually sold in Matalan. Food parcels may be harder to come by, but are needed all the same. Required foodstuffs include Microwave meals, tins of baked beans, ice cream and cans of Special Brew.
22p buys a biro for filling in the compensation forms, 2.00 Pounds buys chips, crisps and Tango drinks for a family of 9, 5.00 pounds will pay for a packet of B&H and a lighter to calm the nerves of those affected.
Please do not send tents for shelter,as the sight of posh housing is unfair on the population of neighbouring areas of Vange, Pitsea and Laindon.
Regular readers will recall the story I did a while ago regarding one Jim Beresford, a solicitor who was getting rich by ripping off miners over their claims for poor health compensation.
Companies of the ilk of Mr Beresford were charging miners fees from their compensation awards which the government had already paid, effectively charging twice for a minimal amount of work.
Some good news for the thousands of miners have been ‘defrauded’ because the Legal Complaints Service are to contact 500,000 miners regarding these false charges which could see millions being returned to the miners. The government has paid out around £7.6 billion to 760,00 miners suffering from respiratory diseases (blimey, that’s an awful lot of miners!).
MP Kevin Burrow said "Some solicitors have got richer out of this scheme."
Working with a shift mainly made up of women, I get to see an awful lot of trashy celeb magazines. I don’t generally read them as I’ve no interest in the lives of the rich & stupid, and to be honest, I’m fed up to the back teeth with people of questionable talent who suddenly achieve riches beyond most people’s wildest dreams and don’t have the first idea how to control it.
I’m sick to the back teeth of hearing about how Amy Winehouse needs help. As far as I’m concerned the only help she requires is to divest her of a significant proportion of her massive riches (in the form of some hefty fines) & a spell between the four walls of one of Her Majesty’s finest establishments. I was somewhat gratified that the USA appear to be taking a step in the right direction by refusing a visa to the drug-crazed bint. What a pity that the people who run the Grammy’s aren’t following the same line and are allowing her to perform via satellite link.
A good start would be for the Grammys to refuse to have anything to do with her, all radio stations to take her off their play-lists & then the message might get round that she is an appalling roll model for youngsters who just get to see that drugs misuse & huge earnings are acceptable partners & there are no consequences to illegal & ill-advised behaviour.
If she wants to snort mind-altering substances up her nose, I really don’t have any problems with that, it’s her life. But I don’t see why she should profit whilst doing so.
One of the biggest pains of my online life is bloody spam email. It is no exaggeration to say that 98% of all emails I receive through various sources, are a complete waste of space. If I’m not being told my girlfriend wants me to have a larger todger I’ve won some lottery and all I have to do to get my hands on the winnings is give my bank account details to some Nigerian criminal.
Even with anti-spam software I still get bombarded with shite which takes up my precious time if only to delete the bloody stuff. Wouldn’t it be nice to get your own back on some of these worthless toe-rags who blight everyone’s existence?
Take a look at 419Eater, a website which showcases the innocent punter who has got his own back on some of the the Nigerian Scam artists. OK, he hasn’t locked any up, nor has he capped any of them, but he has made a few of them look stupid. Check out his email replies and the photographs in which he gets the scammers to pose holding ridiculous messages up to the camera.