I've been emailing a USAAF 95th Bomb Group B17 crew Veteran, discussing life and the universe. Our talk turned to US politics and the wars past and present. Here is his email in response to me sending him this link:
http://www.counterthink.org/018716.html
Very interesting comments, especially from the mouth of a living WW2 veteran
=====================================
Yes and no, but mostly no. I hear Mr. Slick talking, but I do not detect any real answers.
He seems to be on a kick that WWII was one of those good wars in which America set out to save English and European clowns for whom war was often a way of life. In fact, their war to end wars---WWI---did not prove to be meritorious on that premise.
I did not volunteer for WWII, not that may did, to bury the Axis. On the other hand, Japan was in our gun sights right from the start. No, we were just coming out of a depression with the war's assist. My chances, and millions of others, of finding work was nil. Add to this, too, the utter remote possibility of attending college. History is replete with examples of engaging in war to get peoples' minds off prevailing problems like depressions. Getting youth off the streets is another advantage of a good conflict. And, as we know, war certainly can get industry humming once again. WWII did all these things.
Roosevelt purposely put Japan is precarious positions economically and geographically to eventually defeat the ongoing, US sentiment for isolation. That is, he needed an excuse to back up his buddy-pal Churchill. You might say, in retrospect, both enjoyed a good war as adulated leaders.
By the way, I was not overly concerned with killing the so-called enemy, no, my objective was to save my own ass and return home. If the truth be known, maybe I only killed a few soldiers with most of my dastardly deeds against civilians.
Where is my Hyde Parks soap box when I need it? Hear!
Electioneering has been going on in this country ever since the Democrats lost. Their clarion call has been "We hate Bush" with all of its ramification. The hysterical left is completely out of control as is the media. Has Bush made mistakes. Of course, and I cannot think of any leader who has not. Where were those righteous people when Clinton was in office? If you do not recall, Willy-Billy Boy did not run his Bosnian conflict by Congress, but most Clinton-agreeable politicians are singing a different tune today.
When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, this country was ready for action with the deaths of only around 2,000, and the scuffle was thousands of miles away. Now, 9/11, with over 3,000 killed in our own backyard, it generates a big yarn especially with Democrats and many liberals.
The blatant negativity of power has always been with us, and I make no exceptions.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Cycle helmets rock
Yep I give a hearty thumbs up to the old Melon Helmets that us cyclists wear, and I encourage you ALL to wear one when you cycle - cos if I'd not had mine on last night I swear my skull would have been seriously split open and this morning I'd have been in hospital.
Big thanks to the ignorant blind TWAT who firstly blocked the cycle path lounging on his bike while chatting to a fluffy blonde, then even more Brownie points to him for deciding to cycle off without looking as I passed him. BANG and down I went. Swearing like a fishwife at him I got up, and he was awfully nice and apologetic and suitably sorry, but as I'd had the worst day of the year at work so far, I just got up, said I was OK then cycled off before he could see that I was blubbing like a pansy. Darn it I didn't even see his face to check whether he was fit or not.
I got home and sat and howled for half an hour, such was the crappiness of my day. Then this morning I witness a dad step out into the road holding the hand of his young son, right into the path of a car, which slammed on the brakes and narrowly missed them both. Dad didn't seem to notice or even look round, and neither did son. Way to go with the Highway Code guys.
Further along my journey I witness Stupid Student cycling along while texting. She wobbled dangerously as I passed her and by now I was so jumpy I nearly fell off again. I really wanted to just stick out my leg and kick her off her f*cking bike into the hedge.
So remember kiddies, you may look stupid with a huge plastic melon on your head but I'd rather look stupid than have a fractured skull or worse ....
Big thanks to the ignorant blind TWAT who firstly blocked the cycle path lounging on his bike while chatting to a fluffy blonde, then even more Brownie points to him for deciding to cycle off without looking as I passed him. BANG and down I went. Swearing like a fishwife at him I got up, and he was awfully nice and apologetic and suitably sorry, but as I'd had the worst day of the year at work so far, I just got up, said I was OK then cycled off before he could see that I was blubbing like a pansy. Darn it I didn't even see his face to check whether he was fit or not.
I got home and sat and howled for half an hour, such was the crappiness of my day. Then this morning I witness a dad step out into the road holding the hand of his young son, right into the path of a car, which slammed on the brakes and narrowly missed them both. Dad didn't seem to notice or even look round, and neither did son. Way to go with the Highway Code guys.
Further along my journey I witness Stupid Student cycling along while texting. She wobbled dangerously as I passed her and by now I was so jumpy I nearly fell off again. I really wanted to just stick out my leg and kick her off her f*cking bike into the hedge.
So remember kiddies, you may look stupid with a huge plastic melon on your head but I'd rather look stupid than have a fractured skull or worse ....
Monday, February 20, 2006
Is It Just Me or Is Everything Shit?: The Encyclopedia of Modern Life
Yes this is the title of a new book now out, that gives a commentary on Modern Life. I've not ready it yet but I will probably peruse it very soon.
I heartily agree with the title. I made the mistake of buying the Sunday Times at the weekend (free Donnie Darko DVD) and for the first time in months, sat and read the paper. How f*cking depressed was I when I'd finished. Every page was crammed with stories on corruption, cheating, murder, shady Govts, America and it's dirty dealings, money being spent on the silliest of things, compensation cases and sue sue sue stories, Iraq, more Iraq, the ice caps melting and disrupting the Gulf Stream (next ice age is coming within my lifetime ARGH), stories of layred bureacracy within the BBC costing us upwards of £70k per day, of their paid-for trips to the World Cup for staff, commentators and all their hangers-on, that 27 year old who gunned down his family in the US then decided to fly home to see his mum "to ask what he should do" (FFS!), then of course, bird flu BIRD FLU BIRD FLU IS COMING WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE MASS HYSTERIA PANIC OH NO MEDIA GLORIFICATION! FFS if we just treated our animals PROPERLY then these diseases would not manifest themselves. If this wipes us all out (which I don't believe it will at all) then we thoroughly deserve it.
I spent the rest of the day trying to concentrate on positive things about our world - the (unspoiled) breathtaking countryside, rivers and scenery throughout the world (that has yet to be logged, farmed, polluted, stolen, fought over, or built on), the stillness of a misty morning lake as the sun rises, the beauty of music that can reduce the most hardened person to tears, the wonder of art (not the modern crap), an act of kindness to a stranger (that isn't followed by abuse or criticism or suspicion of being mugged), the feeling of being in the company of good friends, the fantastic buzz of driving a car around the a racetrack, the wonderful fizzy feeling inside you when you first kiss someone you are crazy about, scuba diving and seeing the beauty of the fragile world under our seas (again, before it is farmed, polluted, overfished and over-dived).
After all those thoughts had gone through my head I still found myself feeling very depressed about the way the world I live in is going. Because beautiful countryside, first kisses, good friends, and morning misty lakes will never change the rampant greed, corruption and consumerism that is devouring our sick and dying world. What hope have we got??? I'm rapidly rapidly losing faith. I also don't want to read a newspaper again for quite a while.
I heartily agree with the title. I made the mistake of buying the Sunday Times at the weekend (free Donnie Darko DVD) and for the first time in months, sat and read the paper. How f*cking depressed was I when I'd finished. Every page was crammed with stories on corruption, cheating, murder, shady Govts, America and it's dirty dealings, money being spent on the silliest of things, compensation cases and sue sue sue stories, Iraq, more Iraq, the ice caps melting and disrupting the Gulf Stream (next ice age is coming within my lifetime ARGH), stories of layred bureacracy within the BBC costing us upwards of £70k per day, of their paid-for trips to the World Cup for staff, commentators and all their hangers-on, that 27 year old who gunned down his family in the US then decided to fly home to see his mum "to ask what he should do" (FFS!), then of course, bird flu BIRD FLU BIRD FLU IS COMING WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE MASS HYSTERIA PANIC OH NO MEDIA GLORIFICATION! FFS if we just treated our animals PROPERLY then these diseases would not manifest themselves. If this wipes us all out (which I don't believe it will at all) then we thoroughly deserve it.
I spent the rest of the day trying to concentrate on positive things about our world - the (unspoiled) breathtaking countryside, rivers and scenery throughout the world (that has yet to be logged, farmed, polluted, stolen, fought over, or built on), the stillness of a misty morning lake as the sun rises, the beauty of music that can reduce the most hardened person to tears, the wonder of art (not the modern crap), an act of kindness to a stranger (that isn't followed by abuse or criticism or suspicion of being mugged), the feeling of being in the company of good friends, the fantastic buzz of driving a car around the a racetrack, the wonderful fizzy feeling inside you when you first kiss someone you are crazy about, scuba diving and seeing the beauty of the fragile world under our seas (again, before it is farmed, polluted, overfished and over-dived).
After all those thoughts had gone through my head I still found myself feeling very depressed about the way the world I live in is going. Because beautiful countryside, first kisses, good friends, and morning misty lakes will never change the rampant greed, corruption and consumerism that is devouring our sick and dying world. What hope have we got??? I'm rapidly rapidly losing faith. I also don't want to read a newspaper again for quite a while.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Romance
Well I got no cards. I didn't expect any. I never normally get them anyways! But looking at Valentines Day now makes me realise it's just the same as Christmas - another crass excuse to sell overpriced tat and cards to gullible idiots who think that only on one day of the year should they buy their sweetheart a present and tell them they love them.
Crap! You shouldn't need a dictum to tell you when to do that. Do it whenever you feel like it, any day of the year, every day if that's what you want. The time you spend with your loved one could be the very last time you see them - anything could happen - not to sound negative but it could ... so always tell them how you feel, not just on one ruddy day of the year!
Crap! You shouldn't need a dictum to tell you when to do that. Do it whenever you feel like it, any day of the year, every day if that's what you want. The time you spend with your loved one could be the very last time you see them - anything could happen - not to sound negative but it could ... so always tell them how you feel, not just on one ruddy day of the year!
Friday, January 20, 2006
Stupid people in Supermarkets
Picture the scene: 6pm last night in my local Asda - the perfect platform to view Stupid People.
Why is it that in the height of the post-work shopping frenzy, Smug Couples decide to block the aisles with their trolleys as they gaze into eachothers eyes and discuss what to cook on Sat night when their other Smug Couple friends come round for a meal? As the blockage of people intensifies around them and they still can't see past the tunnel vision of their dewy-eyed stares at eachother, more trolleys build up, making manouevreing near impossible. When I pipe up and say Excuse Me, they don't break their gaze but move their trolley about 2" to the left. Thus rendering me still unable to get past them. They continue their discussions about Cous-Cous or organic chicken. I get and push past their trolley, bumping it out of the way. They glare nastily at me. WTF?? Can't they see that there are now four people tussling to get past them and tutting noisily under their breaths?
Next aisle and I witness the Bored Husband (BH). In typical BH pose, he leans against the trolley handle and sticks his bum out into the aisle. Considering he is already blocking it with his trolley, the Arse situation doesn't help. Meanwhile wifey is reading the labels on all the tins to check for fat content. Luckily because BHs are always alert for something remotely interesting to watch while wifey prattles on about sugar content, he notices and immediately moves with a nice "sorry".
Then we have Stupid Person who is perusing the aisles for someething but leaves her trolley about 3 metres away, right where I'm trying to get to the pasta spirals. I start to move her trolley and she dashes over as if she thinks I'm about to steal her discounted meat paste and Frosties. Again, not a word spoken.
Next aisle resembles a bloody nursery school. There's the trolley, half blocking the aisle, and there's mum sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the aisle, with two kids on her knee. They are looking at cake mixes and she's holding classes with them as to what they baked for Granny last Sunday and what colour icing was it? And what cake is this, can they read the label? And can James look around and find the candles? Well done James that's them! Meanwhile another trolley jam forms, only now I can't barge past because I may run over a child. I'm all for interactivity with mums and kids but don't bloody do it in rush hour Asda!
Then we have the Want Pester Want kids:
"Mum can I have these"
"No, you don't like them"
"But mum the advert looked really cool, I want to try them"
"No, they have 50g of sugar per 60g of food"
"BUT MUM EVERYONE EATS THEM"
"NO!!"
*puts food in trolley anyway*
*Mum takes it out again*
"MUM JUST LET ME HAVE ONE PACK"
.... and so it goes on.
At the milk freezers we have Single Man, with his little basket of "beans for one", microwave meals, and token vegetables in case a bird comes round and he can look healthy. Trying to remember what Gillian McKeith said about soya milk and avocados, he gives up and head to the Beer Aisle.
Finally we have the Mad Trolley Drivers. They fly out of the end of an aisle and don't look nor give a toss about who is there. They just gotta MOVE outta their way or be rammed. Looking dead ahead and avoiding my laser-glare of hate as I skid to a halt and avoid hitting them, they waltz onto the next aisle, knocking grannies down en route.
At the tills I am stuck behind another Smug Couple. They coo and laugh and joke as they pack their food, excited that they are doing such a coupley thing like "shopping together". It must mean he wants to marry me! Yaaay! The checkout girl is like a robot - scan beep, scan beep, no conversation. Her glazed eyes scream "get me out of here!" as she glances at my bulging trolley with a look that says "FFS another one...". In the next aisle, kids scream and whinge for a Kinder Surprise, purposefully stacked low down in the queing area to tempt their whining.
When Smug Couple have sauntered off hand in hand in trolley, I attempt a smile and friendly conversation with Checkout Girl, to alleviate her tedium. Then I noticed that there is a lone tin of tomato soup left on the packing area by Smug Couple. "Oh they've left something", I say, fingering the tommie soup. Checkout Girl rolls her eyes and says "Oh well, I'm sure Love will see them through". Then we both crack up laughing.
Asda - an Anthropologist's dream .....
Why is it that in the height of the post-work shopping frenzy, Smug Couples decide to block the aisles with their trolleys as they gaze into eachothers eyes and discuss what to cook on Sat night when their other Smug Couple friends come round for a meal? As the blockage of people intensifies around them and they still can't see past the tunnel vision of their dewy-eyed stares at eachother, more trolleys build up, making manouevreing near impossible. When I pipe up and say Excuse Me, they don't break their gaze but move their trolley about 2" to the left. Thus rendering me still unable to get past them. They continue their discussions about Cous-Cous or organic chicken. I get and push past their trolley, bumping it out of the way. They glare nastily at me. WTF?? Can't they see that there are now four people tussling to get past them and tutting noisily under their breaths?
Next aisle and I witness the Bored Husband (BH). In typical BH pose, he leans against the trolley handle and sticks his bum out into the aisle. Considering he is already blocking it with his trolley, the Arse situation doesn't help. Meanwhile wifey is reading the labels on all the tins to check for fat content. Luckily because BHs are always alert for something remotely interesting to watch while wifey prattles on about sugar content, he notices and immediately moves with a nice "sorry".
Then we have Stupid Person who is perusing the aisles for someething but leaves her trolley about 3 metres away, right where I'm trying to get to the pasta spirals. I start to move her trolley and she dashes over as if she thinks I'm about to steal her discounted meat paste and Frosties. Again, not a word spoken.
Next aisle resembles a bloody nursery school. There's the trolley, half blocking the aisle, and there's mum sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the aisle, with two kids on her knee. They are looking at cake mixes and she's holding classes with them as to what they baked for Granny last Sunday and what colour icing was it? And what cake is this, can they read the label? And can James look around and find the candles? Well done James that's them! Meanwhile another trolley jam forms, only now I can't barge past because I may run over a child. I'm all for interactivity with mums and kids but don't bloody do it in rush hour Asda!
Then we have the Want Pester Want kids:
"Mum can I have these"
"No, you don't like them"
"But mum the advert looked really cool, I want to try them"
"No, they have 50g of sugar per 60g of food"
"BUT MUM EVERYONE EATS THEM"
"NO!!"
*puts food in trolley anyway*
*Mum takes it out again*
"MUM JUST LET ME HAVE ONE PACK"
.... and so it goes on.
At the milk freezers we have Single Man, with his little basket of "beans for one", microwave meals, and token vegetables in case a bird comes round and he can look healthy. Trying to remember what Gillian McKeith said about soya milk and avocados, he gives up and head to the Beer Aisle.
Finally we have the Mad Trolley Drivers. They fly out of the end of an aisle and don't look nor give a toss about who is there. They just gotta MOVE outta their way or be rammed. Looking dead ahead and avoiding my laser-glare of hate as I skid to a halt and avoid hitting them, they waltz onto the next aisle, knocking grannies down en route.
At the tills I am stuck behind another Smug Couple. They coo and laugh and joke as they pack their food, excited that they are doing such a coupley thing like "shopping together". It must mean he wants to marry me! Yaaay! The checkout girl is like a robot - scan beep, scan beep, no conversation. Her glazed eyes scream "get me out of here!" as she glances at my bulging trolley with a look that says "FFS another one...". In the next aisle, kids scream and whinge for a Kinder Surprise, purposefully stacked low down in the queing area to tempt their whining.
When Smug Couple have sauntered off hand in hand in trolley, I attempt a smile and friendly conversation with Checkout Girl, to alleviate her tedium. Then I noticed that there is a lone tin of tomato soup left on the packing area by Smug Couple. "Oh they've left something", I say, fingering the tommie soup. Checkout Girl rolls her eyes and says "Oh well, I'm sure Love will see them through". Then we both crack up laughing.
Asda - an Anthropologist's dream .....
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Get me a trade ....
Interesting news today about how Oxford University graduates are now retraining as plumbers and walking away with £70,000 pay packets, such is the demand for decent plumbers. Their hard-earned degrees that cost them thousands in student debt are useless, as they hit the tools for some easy money.
I read an article about this over a year ago, it debated the "use" of degrees nowadays, and talked about how flooded the graduate market is, at the expense of old-fashioned apprenticeships in essential trades such as building, electrical work, and plumbing. Going into "the trades" as looked down upon as a "common" career to choose, but everyone should know that plumbing, building and electronics are certainly not jobs for the thickos.
We used to have an Economics Master working as our £12k a year admin girl at my last job, and I've heard loads of other Uni graduates bemoaning their £30k student debt and how they can only get a job down Tescos. My cousins have degrees in this, that and the other and are working in bars, cafes, admin offices, pretty much any job that DOESN'T need the degree they've slaved for. I haven't got a degree and earn more than a lot of graduates I've talked to!
Working for an educational establishment I shouldn't bite the hand that feeds me, but honestly what the F*CK good are some degrees nowadays? They used to be special, for that intelligent elite who would go on to do some good, while the "ordinary" people trained for the trades. Then the Government decided EVERYONE should have a right to a University education, and parents started obsessing that their kids would get nowhere in the world without a piece of paper that basically says "I've got a degree and a f*ck off huge debt and will work for £10k". My own brother did an Engineering degree, passed, then went on to work in his mate's motorbike shop for 4 years, taught himself DOS, LINUX, networking, and got a job in IT, and after a 9 month stint as a Divemaster he is now back working as an IT contractor. Some good his degree was.
Yes I know that some degrees are important and useful and quite essential for the career you want to be in. But the market is so flooded its a bunfight to get in there and land your ultimate job. Then you have the useless degrees like Media Studies, American Studies, and all that crap - FFS what good are they, somebody enlighten me.....
Quicker just to learn how to solder pipes and connect toilets, then get the fat pay cheque and drive off in that SLK ....
I read an article about this over a year ago, it debated the "use" of degrees nowadays, and talked about how flooded the graduate market is, at the expense of old-fashioned apprenticeships in essential trades such as building, electrical work, and plumbing. Going into "the trades" as looked down upon as a "common" career to choose, but everyone should know that plumbing, building and electronics are certainly not jobs for the thickos.
We used to have an Economics Master working as our £12k a year admin girl at my last job, and I've heard loads of other Uni graduates bemoaning their £30k student debt and how they can only get a job down Tescos. My cousins have degrees in this, that and the other and are working in bars, cafes, admin offices, pretty much any job that DOESN'T need the degree they've slaved for. I haven't got a degree and earn more than a lot of graduates I've talked to!
Working for an educational establishment I shouldn't bite the hand that feeds me, but honestly what the F*CK good are some degrees nowadays? They used to be special, for that intelligent elite who would go on to do some good, while the "ordinary" people trained for the trades. Then the Government decided EVERYONE should have a right to a University education, and parents started obsessing that their kids would get nowhere in the world without a piece of paper that basically says "I've got a degree and a f*ck off huge debt and will work for £10k". My own brother did an Engineering degree, passed, then went on to work in his mate's motorbike shop for 4 years, taught himself DOS, LINUX, networking, and got a job in IT, and after a 9 month stint as a Divemaster he is now back working as an IT contractor. Some good his degree was.
Yes I know that some degrees are important and useful and quite essential for the career you want to be in. But the market is so flooded its a bunfight to get in there and land your ultimate job. Then you have the useless degrees like Media Studies, American Studies, and all that crap - FFS what good are they, somebody enlighten me.....
Quicker just to learn how to solder pipes and connect toilets, then get the fat pay cheque and drive off in that SLK ....
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Madness
News today that a beer advert featuring a man standing with his pint surrounded by "well dressed people" has been banned because it "conveys the impression that drinking will make you socially successful".
Good grief exactly who decided to ban this? Were there complaints from the public, or was it some pencil-necked bureaucrat who has nothing better to do with his time?!?!
We're not stupid, we don't believe that boozing will launch us into the stratosphere of A-list glamour. Anyone out ther who DOES believe that, well...there's just no hope for them.
So does this mean that the famous Ferrero Roche adverts featuring the glamorous elite tucking into the vile nutty chocs and pronouncing them "ecshellente" will be banned too? In case we think that eating chocolate will turn us into rich playboys? What about all the perfume adverts featuring stunning women? The Gilette adverts featuring chisel-jawed men? Oh no, so does that mean that if I spent £40 on some stinky Estee Lauder concoction, that I WON'T turn into Liz Hurley?????
Also today I had to go home from work to let the B&Q delivery men into my house to drop off two large sliding wardrobe doors. I asked them to put them in the upstairs bedroom .... "Can't go upstairs love, not covered by insurance - if I tripped and fell I'm not insured".
Good God I can't cope any longer this is just ridiculous. So if I'd been an old biddy then what was I meant to do, carry them upstairs myself? I'm surprised they even dared to take a step up into my porch, incase they tripped? Who would they sue? ME for having a f*cking porch?????
Someone has to draw the line somewhere .....
Good grief exactly who decided to ban this? Were there complaints from the public, or was it some pencil-necked bureaucrat who has nothing better to do with his time?!?!
We're not stupid, we don't believe that boozing will launch us into the stratosphere of A-list glamour. Anyone out ther who DOES believe that, well...there's just no hope for them.
So does this mean that the famous Ferrero Roche adverts featuring the glamorous elite tucking into the vile nutty chocs and pronouncing them "ecshellente" will be banned too? In case we think that eating chocolate will turn us into rich playboys? What about all the perfume adverts featuring stunning women? The Gilette adverts featuring chisel-jawed men? Oh no, so does that mean that if I spent £40 on some stinky Estee Lauder concoction, that I WON'T turn into Liz Hurley?????
Also today I had to go home from work to let the B&Q delivery men into my house to drop off two large sliding wardrobe doors. I asked them to put them in the upstairs bedroom .... "Can't go upstairs love, not covered by insurance - if I tripped and fell I'm not insured".
Good God I can't cope any longer this is just ridiculous. So if I'd been an old biddy then what was I meant to do, carry them upstairs myself? I'm surprised they even dared to take a step up into my porch, incase they tripped? Who would they sue? ME for having a f*cking porch?????
Someone has to draw the line somewhere .....
Friday, January 06, 2006
£1.10 for a spud and Happy Birthday
Well I'm 34 today .... my pressie from Alan (The Aviator DVD) has not arrived, he ordered it from Amazon and it's late. Should have bloody ordered it earlier dammit!
My brother has forgotten too I think, I'm still waiting for my Xmas pressie from him (Batman Begins DVD), let alone a sign that he's remembered his own sister's birthday too.
Nobody is in work cos it's not term time yet, and I've spent today doing very little. So I went to the canteen for lunch to treat myself. Paid £4.60 for a "cottage pie" that was smaller than my hand, plus a portion of chips. The Cottage Pie was £3.50 so that means I just paid £1.10 for what amounts to less than a full potato, fried so much that half of them were too crispy and inedible to eat.
What a ripoff! It's my birthday FFs give me a free meal you gits!
So the canteen was ultra crowded and it was like back to school days as I hunted for somewhere to sit with my tray, seeking out the cliquey groups sitting together and trying to avoid them, while trying not to look like a saddo who lunches alone - on her birthday!
Found a table with some academic types wah-wahing at the other end so sat down next to three empty chairs and tucked into my overpriced birthday meal. Soon enough, three young girls asked if I was meeting anyone and if not could they sit down, so I said sure, help yourself.
They all looked in their early twenties, but as they started to talk it came out that they were all married and most of them had kids. OMG, girls you look as if you should be pubbing and shopping not talking about your husbands and where to take the kids this weekend? Then I realised that a lot of people in their mid twenties actually DID get married and have kids, and I suddenly felt very Spinsterish - but in a good way - like I'd somehow survived to 34 and was still unblemished by marriage.
Then one of the girls started going on about her husband who was a Marine Biologist somethingorother, and how he goes to "Algae club" once a month, where him and a bunch of other enviros look at green gunge under microscopes. It was hard to keep a straight face as she talked about it, I'm sure they saw me trying not to laugh....."darling I'll be back later, I'm going to Algae Club" ...."OK dear, bring me back some Spongiforms..."
Another one then started to talk about her hobby of BEEKEEPING - at that point I finsihed my bland Cottage Pie and left my crispy chips and departed the surreal table of too-young-to-be-married girls. I wonder what they'd have thought if I'd said it was my birthday, I'm 34 and unmarried and quite happy about that? And that I can go and do what and where I want when I want, I have no kids to tie me down, I keep rats, scuba dive, chase warplanes, and sew cozy beds for furry mammals. Would they have thought there was something wrong with me? That I *should* have a ring on my finger at 34?
I think there is a kind of twilight period for us older girls where we get to a point where people think you are a freak cos you've not got a husband....but if you persevere and carry on without said husband, they then become envious of your life and your freedom. They also become pissed off when you slink into the room cellulite-free and stretch-mark free in your tiny dress that still fits, and flirt with their husbands. Hahaha!
So now back in the office, waiting for some work to do, and thinking of things to blog. Also having a good laugh at http://www.i-am-bored.com/.
Birthdays huh?
My brother has forgotten too I think, I'm still waiting for my Xmas pressie from him (Batman Begins DVD), let alone a sign that he's remembered his own sister's birthday too.
Nobody is in work cos it's not term time yet, and I've spent today doing very little. So I went to the canteen for lunch to treat myself. Paid £4.60 for a "cottage pie" that was smaller than my hand, plus a portion of chips. The Cottage Pie was £3.50 so that means I just paid £1.10 for what amounts to less than a full potato, fried so much that half of them were too crispy and inedible to eat.
What a ripoff! It's my birthday FFs give me a free meal you gits!
So the canteen was ultra crowded and it was like back to school days as I hunted for somewhere to sit with my tray, seeking out the cliquey groups sitting together and trying to avoid them, while trying not to look like a saddo who lunches alone - on her birthday!
Found a table with some academic types wah-wahing at the other end so sat down next to three empty chairs and tucked into my overpriced birthday meal. Soon enough, three young girls asked if I was meeting anyone and if not could they sit down, so I said sure, help yourself.
They all looked in their early twenties, but as they started to talk it came out that they were all married and most of them had kids. OMG, girls you look as if you should be pubbing and shopping not talking about your husbands and where to take the kids this weekend? Then I realised that a lot of people in their mid twenties actually DID get married and have kids, and I suddenly felt very Spinsterish - but in a good way - like I'd somehow survived to 34 and was still unblemished by marriage.
Then one of the girls started going on about her husband who was a Marine Biologist somethingorother, and how he goes to "Algae club" once a month, where him and a bunch of other enviros look at green gunge under microscopes. It was hard to keep a straight face as she talked about it, I'm sure they saw me trying not to laugh....."darling I'll be back later, I'm going to Algae Club" ...."OK dear, bring me back some Spongiforms..."
Another one then started to talk about her hobby of BEEKEEPING - at that point I finsihed my bland Cottage Pie and left my crispy chips and departed the surreal table of too-young-to-be-married girls. I wonder what they'd have thought if I'd said it was my birthday, I'm 34 and unmarried and quite happy about that? And that I can go and do what and where I want when I want, I have no kids to tie me down, I keep rats, scuba dive, chase warplanes, and sew cozy beds for furry mammals. Would they have thought there was something wrong with me? That I *should* have a ring on my finger at 34?
I think there is a kind of twilight period for us older girls where we get to a point where people think you are a freak cos you've not got a husband....but if you persevere and carry on without said husband, they then become envious of your life and your freedom. They also become pissed off when you slink into the room cellulite-free and stretch-mark free in your tiny dress that still fits, and flirt with their husbands. Hahaha!
So now back in the office, waiting for some work to do, and thinking of things to blog. Also having a good laugh at http://www.i-am-bored.com/.
Birthdays huh?
Thursday, January 05, 2006
(Nearly) Happy Birthday to Me
I am 34 tomorrow another year and in my mind I am officially Middle Aged. Well, at 70 your life is about over, so 35 is technically the Middle of your life. I stopped celebrating birthdays when I reached my quarter century, I think that was enough for me!
I sure don't feel 34...my mum brought it home to me the other week when she said "when I was your age I'd been married for 10 years and had 2 kids". HOLY COW! A lot of my ex-schoolfriends are also married, divorced, married and onto their second set of kids. Good Lord .... makes one feel a bit better.
I still can't imagine being married at the moment, and still do not EVER EVER want kids. Still feel like I'm in my mid-20s.
Off out on the whiskey tonight to "celebrate" so will be in a state tomorrow no doubt .....
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03 January
The TS returns!
Well I took my trusty Tartan Shopper into town again yesterday, but this time I did my hair and looked less like a Bag Lady. I needed the TS cos I was buying in a load of fleece and small padded dog beds for my latest moneymaking venutre (to be revealed soon).
I also ended up buying one of those "memoryfoam" ergonomic pillows, and some flat-packed plastic shelving - so you can imagine how wide I was as I staggered down the paths with a bulging fleece-packed TS, some shelving, and a square pillow carrybox.
So why is it that every bloody person who walked past me on the same path tried to walk through me???? Was I invisible? I checked for my reflection in a shop window and it was there. The paths were wide enough in most places for people to walk past me in single file. But no, bleeding Couples who refuse to NOT walk side by side holding hands just came straight at me - did they expect me to disappear into the wall or stop and flatten myself against it, so they could walk past me in their Couple Cuteness? P*ss off!
I moved over as much as I could but when there is enough room for the other people to get past me in single file, WHY SHOULD I move over? I stayed my ground and got glared at as people had to change position to walk past me, fat bags and all. Oh, the inconvenience to them! My bags were nudged and kicked as they swanned by, probably muttering under their breaths about "why didn't she move". COS I CAN'T BLOODY WALK THROUGH WALLS YOU MORON!
I sure don't feel 34...my mum brought it home to me the other week when she said "when I was your age I'd been married for 10 years and had 2 kids". HOLY COW! A lot of my ex-schoolfriends are also married, divorced, married and onto their second set of kids. Good Lord .... makes one feel a bit better.
I still can't imagine being married at the moment, and still do not EVER EVER want kids. Still feel like I'm in my mid-20s.
Off out on the whiskey tonight to "celebrate" so will be in a state tomorrow no doubt .....
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03 January
The TS returns!
Well I took my trusty Tartan Shopper into town again yesterday, but this time I did my hair and looked less like a Bag Lady. I needed the TS cos I was buying in a load of fleece and small padded dog beds for my latest moneymaking venutre (to be revealed soon).
I also ended up buying one of those "memoryfoam" ergonomic pillows, and some flat-packed plastic shelving - so you can imagine how wide I was as I staggered down the paths with a bulging fleece-packed TS, some shelving, and a square pillow carrybox.
So why is it that every bloody person who walked past me on the same path tried to walk through me???? Was I invisible? I checked for my reflection in a shop window and it was there. The paths were wide enough in most places for people to walk past me in single file. But no, bleeding Couples who refuse to NOT walk side by side holding hands just came straight at me - did they expect me to disappear into the wall or stop and flatten myself against it, so they could walk past me in their Couple Cuteness? P*ss off!
I moved over as much as I could but when there is enough room for the other people to get past me in single file, WHY SHOULD I move over? I stayed my ground and got glared at as people had to change position to walk past me, fat bags and all. Oh, the inconvenience to them! My bags were nudged and kicked as they swanned by, probably muttering under their breaths about "why didn't she move". COS I CAN'T BLOODY WALK THROUGH WALLS YOU MORON!
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Christmas Sales
Well I ventured out today at 9am to take in the Christmas sales and see what clothing bargains I could get. I took my new and very fetching Tartan Shopper (TS) with extra-wide gusset (a "Granny" special) that my mum had got me for Crimbo, to save me juggling about 12 carrier bags on only 10 fingers.
I also didn't bother to do my hair, since it was already pelting down with snow and wind, so what was the point of a nice coiff? Add to the fact I had another crap nights sleep, had dark shadows under my eyes, and with the addition of my duffle coat I resembled a fully fledged Bag Lady.
On hitting the shops looking like said Bag Lady, I realised the TS was a bad idea - I think every single shop attendant eyed me up as I walked in with duffle coat and Big Bag and scruffy hair, and immediately thought "shoplifter!!!" and as I browsed the racks with an armful of clothes, I felt the Young Trendy Shop Girls closing in, ready to pounce should I make a dash for the door. After I duly tried the clothes on then paid for them, refusing a carrier bag (horrid plastic!) and putting the clothes in my TS, I think they relaxed somewhat. However I still felt like the biggest frump in the cosmiverse and wished I had done my hair and worn a different coat.
As I trailed from shop to shop and bought stuff, the TS got heavier and heavier. Why is it that every single bloody item I touched on a clothes rack promptly fell off the hangar and onto the floor, leaving me with the choice of walking off and leaving it, or struggling with TS, armful of clothes, and said item of clothing?? This while other rude nubile size 8s shoved past me, kneeing my TS and staring at the Funny Bag Lady swearing at a coathanger....
I also have realised that Top Shop trousers will NEVER fit me - they are obviously styled for today's pear-shaped girl who has a beer belly overhang and no waist - every pair I tried on stuck out like a champagne class around my hips and waist, as if waiting for me to suddenly expand into them.
Changing rooms left a lot to be desired, with most having little or no hooks to hang your coat and clothes. Some hooks helpfully pointed downwards and had no ends on them, so your clothes fell straight off onto the floor. Others smelt of niffy feet, and all were manned by sullen teens who looked down their noses at you as if to say "HA that won't suit YOU, Bag Lady!!!" and eyed my bulging TS with suspicion.
In every shop there were helpless-looking men standing around looking utterly fed up, or following their women around the racks and nodding listlessley at their ravings about the sparkly pink top with 40% off, or sitting outside changing rooms with "FFS HURRY UP!" written all over their faces. All these trendy clothes shops need a seating area and copious amounts of Top Gear magazine/Maxim/GQ to keep these poor guys from going insane.
As usual the young girls serving at the counter were as polite as always (see earlier Whinge at http://spaces.msn.com/members/whinges/Blog/cns!1phRy8Dn8LuYsTPHFr5S_KOQ!120.entry), and only Bay Trading got top marks for customer service and the remotest hint of frendliness. Every other shop not a word was spoken as the jumped up little teens took my money and avoided my eye contact. If they were pissed off to be working over Christmas then TOUGH SHIT, don't work in retail! But be the F*CK nice to us Bag Ladies, we may be eccentric millionaires that could change your life ....
I went to Chapelfield, the new shopping centre in Norwich, and bloody hell it was carnage in there - at 1pm I gave up - just too many people...I hobbled along with my heavy TS, and started to not care I was kneecapping people with it as I shoved through the crowds of slowly-walking Chavs and fat girls in hipsters. I caught one (rather nice looking) young man staring at me with an amused smile on his face. I wondered if he'd noticed the trance-like look of "get me out" desperation in my face as I hobbled along, or whether he was laughing at the Funny Ginger Bag Lady. Other young lads walked around in t-shirts outsidfe - WTF? It had started to SNOW heavily and these idiots were in t-shirts?!
I finally got to my car and worked my way out of town. In true Norwich City Council style, none of the roads had been gritted, and a slushy buildup had started. Cars crawled along, and one irritating twat in an Audi put his fog lights on - AS IF THAT WOULD HELP YOU IDIOT. Is it foggy?!? NO! Then f*cking turn off those dazzling lights before I ram you on purpose!
Smug Gits in 4x4s were everywhere, being Smug and thinking "I'm in a 4x4 so I can get through the snow, HA HAAAA I'M KING OF THE ROAD". Er not quite - the sight of one wheelspinning up Rose Lane was hilarious. 4x4s are even more lethal in slippery weather because they are more likely to roll in the event of a skid, and smash into ickle Golf drivers like me. Specially when they don't bother to scrape their side and rear windows and are driving blind - their already limited all-round vision is limited even more by their sheer laziness in window-scraping.
Bought a loads of luvvly Crimbo decorations at 50% off for next year, then went home and unpacked, only to discover that the funky china roll-top bath I'd purchased with requisite bath smellies and a teddy stuffed inside, had got smashed in bloody TS, and was useless - waste of a fiver. I only wanted the little rolltop bath to use in the new bathroom, and all I was left with was a ruddy teddy and some sickly pink bath smellies. Charity Shop!!!!
After cleaning the lounge and doing the ironing and making a sossie casserole for tea (yum) I'm now going to attempt to relax and sew another Snuggle Hammock for my neglected ickle ratties.
I also didn't bother to do my hair, since it was already pelting down with snow and wind, so what was the point of a nice coiff? Add to the fact I had another crap nights sleep, had dark shadows under my eyes, and with the addition of my duffle coat I resembled a fully fledged Bag Lady.
On hitting the shops looking like said Bag Lady, I realised the TS was a bad idea - I think every single shop attendant eyed me up as I walked in with duffle coat and Big Bag and scruffy hair, and immediately thought "shoplifter!!!" and as I browsed the racks with an armful of clothes, I felt the Young Trendy Shop Girls closing in, ready to pounce should I make a dash for the door. After I duly tried the clothes on then paid for them, refusing a carrier bag (horrid plastic!) and putting the clothes in my TS, I think they relaxed somewhat. However I still felt like the biggest frump in the cosmiverse and wished I had done my hair and worn a different coat.
As I trailed from shop to shop and bought stuff, the TS got heavier and heavier. Why is it that every single bloody item I touched on a clothes rack promptly fell off the hangar and onto the floor, leaving me with the choice of walking off and leaving it, or struggling with TS, armful of clothes, and said item of clothing?? This while other rude nubile size 8s shoved past me, kneeing my TS and staring at the Funny Bag Lady swearing at a coathanger....
I also have realised that Top Shop trousers will NEVER fit me - they are obviously styled for today's pear-shaped girl who has a beer belly overhang and no waist - every pair I tried on stuck out like a champagne class around my hips and waist, as if waiting for me to suddenly expand into them.
Changing rooms left a lot to be desired, with most having little or no hooks to hang your coat and clothes. Some hooks helpfully pointed downwards and had no ends on them, so your clothes fell straight off onto the floor. Others smelt of niffy feet, and all were manned by sullen teens who looked down their noses at you as if to say "HA that won't suit YOU, Bag Lady!!!" and eyed my bulging TS with suspicion.
In every shop there were helpless-looking men standing around looking utterly fed up, or following their women around the racks and nodding listlessley at their ravings about the sparkly pink top with 40% off, or sitting outside changing rooms with "FFS HURRY UP!" written all over their faces. All these trendy clothes shops need a seating area and copious amounts of Top Gear magazine/Maxim/GQ to keep these poor guys from going insane.
As usual the young girls serving at the counter were as polite as always (see earlier Whinge at http://spaces.msn.com/members/whinges/Blog/cns!1phRy8Dn8LuYsTPHFr5S_KOQ!120.entry), and only Bay Trading got top marks for customer service and the remotest hint of frendliness. Every other shop not a word was spoken as the jumped up little teens took my money and avoided my eye contact. If they were pissed off to be working over Christmas then TOUGH SHIT, don't work in retail! But be the F*CK nice to us Bag Ladies, we may be eccentric millionaires that could change your life ....
I went to Chapelfield, the new shopping centre in Norwich, and bloody hell it was carnage in there - at 1pm I gave up - just too many people...I hobbled along with my heavy TS, and started to not care I was kneecapping people with it as I shoved through the crowds of slowly-walking Chavs and fat girls in hipsters. I caught one (rather nice looking) young man staring at me with an amused smile on his face. I wondered if he'd noticed the trance-like look of "get me out" desperation in my face as I hobbled along, or whether he was laughing at the Funny Ginger Bag Lady. Other young lads walked around in t-shirts outsidfe - WTF? It had started to SNOW heavily and these idiots were in t-shirts?!
I finally got to my car and worked my way out of town. In true Norwich City Council style, none of the roads had been gritted, and a slushy buildup had started. Cars crawled along, and one irritating twat in an Audi put his fog lights on - AS IF THAT WOULD HELP YOU IDIOT. Is it foggy?!? NO! Then f*cking turn off those dazzling lights before I ram you on purpose!
Smug Gits in 4x4s were everywhere, being Smug and thinking "I'm in a 4x4 so I can get through the snow, HA HAAAA I'M KING OF THE ROAD". Er not quite - the sight of one wheelspinning up Rose Lane was hilarious. 4x4s are even more lethal in slippery weather because they are more likely to roll in the event of a skid, and smash into ickle Golf drivers like me. Specially when they don't bother to scrape their side and rear windows and are driving blind - their already limited all-round vision is limited even more by their sheer laziness in window-scraping.
Bought a loads of luvvly Crimbo decorations at 50% off for next year, then went home and unpacked, only to discover that the funky china roll-top bath I'd purchased with requisite bath smellies and a teddy stuffed inside, had got smashed in bloody TS, and was useless - waste of a fiver. I only wanted the little rolltop bath to use in the new bathroom, and all I was left with was a ruddy teddy and some sickly pink bath smellies. Charity Shop!!!!
After cleaning the lounge and doing the ironing and making a sossie casserole for tea (yum) I'm now going to attempt to relax and sew another Snuggle Hammock for my neglected ickle ratties.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
No tat for me this Christmas
Well it seems my rantings against tat and for buying useful presents didn't fall on deaf ears....boyfriend produced a temptingly heavy big parcel on Christmas Eve; oooh I sniffed it I shook it I wondered what it was .... so this morning came and I ripped into it first thing.
Beneath the wrapping paper was a brown box with a software make all over it. Oooh what was it! A GPS car thingie, something cool for my digicam?
No - it was 10 bottles of Fructis shampoo and 2 bottles of bubble bath. Boyfriend smirked at me and said "well, you told me you'd appreciate 6 months worth of shampoo, cos it'd be useful and you'd not charity shop it". He then laughed and produced my real present - a Kylie "Showgirl" DVD.
Smug git .....
Beneath the wrapping paper was a brown box with a software make all over it. Oooh what was it! A GPS car thingie, something cool for my digicam?
No - it was 10 bottles of Fructis shampoo and 2 bottles of bubble bath. Boyfriend smirked at me and said "well, you told me you'd appreciate 6 months worth of shampoo, cos it'd be useful and you'd not charity shop it". He then laughed and produced my real present - a Kylie "Showgirl" DVD.
Smug git .....
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Debt
Reports are saying that over 200,000 people in the UK are still paying off last Christmas, while spending too much money again THIS Christmas. As a results, debts soar and credit cards cash in, as stupid people are pressured to have a huge Christmas every year, to have bigger meals, a bigger tree, more presents, more booze, more parties.
Why can't they just say "NO SORRY we're having a small Christmas this year, we're a bit skint". Are they that scared what other people will think? Who gives a toss what they think, if you're in debt you don't go and bloody spend even more money, no matter how much your kids whinge for the latest expensive piece of tat. They should be told and learn that when mummy and daddy have no money, everybody will have to miss out a bit and just deal with it.
Think small, be thankful for what you HAVE got, and that you are happy, healthy and have a roof over your head. Then think about all the other people out there who have less than nothing, but deal with it and get on with their lives. Or spend shitloads you haven't got on booze and tat .... it probably still won't feel very good ...
Why can't they just say "NO SORRY we're having a small Christmas this year, we're a bit skint". Are they that scared what other people will think? Who gives a toss what they think, if you're in debt you don't go and bloody spend even more money, no matter how much your kids whinge for the latest expensive piece of tat. They should be told and learn that when mummy and daddy have no money, everybody will have to miss out a bit and just deal with it.
Think small, be thankful for what you HAVE got, and that you are happy, healthy and have a roof over your head. Then think about all the other people out there who have less than nothing, but deal with it and get on with their lives. Or spend shitloads you haven't got on booze and tat .... it probably still won't feel very good ...
Monday, December 19, 2005
Happy Birthday Jesus??
The idea of celebrating the Nativity on December 25 was first suggested early in the fourth century CE, a clever move on the part of Church fathers who wished to eclipse the December 25 festivities of a rival pagan religion, Mithraism, which threatened the existence of Christianity.
In ancient times, Dec. 25 was the date of the lavish Roman festival of Saturnalia. It was a time when gifts were exchanged; homes, streets and buildings were decorated; people came home for the holidays and everybody was in a happy, party mood. It has been said that early Christians chose the date of the Saturnalia in order to avoid attention and thus escape persecution.
When the Roman emperor Constantine officially adopted Christianity in the 4th century, the date of Christmas remained Dec. 25.
Christs birth almost certainly did not occur 2,002 years ago. Our present chronology by which the years are numbered as AD or BC was conceived by the Roman abbot Dionysius Exiguus around 523 AD.
Unfortunately, Dionysius made two significant errors in his calculations. The first was his placement of 1 AD immediately following 1 BC, completely disregarding the mathematically required 0 in between. Back then in Europe, zero was not considered a number. So, for instance, the year we now call 3 BC, is actually 2 numerically speaking.
Second, Dionysius accepted the statement of Clement of Alexandria that Jesus was born in the 28th year of the reign of the Roman emperor Caesar Augustus. But Dionysius failed to realize that during the first four years of his reign this Roman ruler was known by his original name Octavianus, until the Roman senate proclaimed him "Augustus." So here alone we have an error of four years, but by the time it was realized our chronology was too well entrenched to be changed.
==============
An interesting article from an astronomy website. So when exactly was Jesus born then, (if he was at all), and have we just celebrated the Millennium too late or too early?
In ancient times, Dec. 25 was the date of the lavish Roman festival of Saturnalia. It was a time when gifts were exchanged; homes, streets and buildings were decorated; people came home for the holidays and everybody was in a happy, party mood. It has been said that early Christians chose the date of the Saturnalia in order to avoid attention and thus escape persecution.
When the Roman emperor Constantine officially adopted Christianity in the 4th century, the date of Christmas remained Dec. 25.
Christs birth almost certainly did not occur 2,002 years ago. Our present chronology by which the years are numbered as AD or BC was conceived by the Roman abbot Dionysius Exiguus around 523 AD.
Unfortunately, Dionysius made two significant errors in his calculations. The first was his placement of 1 AD immediately following 1 BC, completely disregarding the mathematically required 0 in between. Back then in Europe, zero was not considered a number. So, for instance, the year we now call 3 BC, is actually 2 numerically speaking.
Second, Dionysius accepted the statement of Clement of Alexandria that Jesus was born in the 28th year of the reign of the Roman emperor Caesar Augustus. But Dionysius failed to realize that during the first four years of his reign this Roman ruler was known by his original name Octavianus, until the Roman senate proclaimed him "Augustus." So here alone we have an error of four years, but by the time it was realized our chronology was too well entrenched to be changed.
==============
An interesting article from an astronomy website. So when exactly was Jesus born then, (if he was at all), and have we just celebrated the Millennium too late or too early?
Friday, December 16, 2005
What if ....
http://pawofjustice.org/index.php?cat=11
After reading this very upsetting article I got to thinking:
"What if animals could talk?"
If they did, there would have to be a completely new set of rules for EVERYTHING set up, to include animals and their rights, because they would be able to speak for themselves.
Just imagine - Humans would not be able to breed them in conditions like that, because they would speak out - if we wanted to keep one as a pet they'd very likely say "er no thanks, would rather run free thanks!" Or we'd be subject to stringent checks to see if new animal was happy with its surroundings. Reptile owners would be stuffed because animals would refuse to be bred as Feeders.
We'd totally not be able to eat meat anymore, all animals would say "HEY you're not killing us to eat, get lost!" Same for fur, leather etc etc. A whole new clothing system would have to be developed!
If we squashed a bunny or a pheasant on the roads, our number plates would be taken by a vigilant animal and we'd be held responsible.
Pet shops would go out of business or be VERY carefully monitored - all pets would have to be kept in absolute freedom or luxury to their own requirements - they'd have a say in all aspects of their own care, including which TV channel they wanted to watch!
What would happen to animal testing and experimentation???
There would no doubt be a new terrorist underground established that held animals prisoner and used them as feeders/lab fodder etc whether they liked it or not.
What else would happen to our world if animals could speak?
After reading this very upsetting article I got to thinking:
"What if animals could talk?"
If they did, there would have to be a completely new set of rules for EVERYTHING set up, to include animals and their rights, because they would be able to speak for themselves.
Just imagine - Humans would not be able to breed them in conditions like that, because they would speak out - if we wanted to keep one as a pet they'd very likely say "er no thanks, would rather run free thanks!" Or we'd be subject to stringent checks to see if new animal was happy with its surroundings. Reptile owners would be stuffed because animals would refuse to be bred as Feeders.
We'd totally not be able to eat meat anymore, all animals would say "HEY you're not killing us to eat, get lost!" Same for fur, leather etc etc. A whole new clothing system would have to be developed!
If we squashed a bunny or a pheasant on the roads, our number plates would be taken by a vigilant animal and we'd be held responsible.
Pet shops would go out of business or be VERY carefully monitored - all pets would have to be kept in absolute freedom or luxury to their own requirements - they'd have a say in all aspects of their own care, including which TV channel they wanted to watch!
What would happen to animal testing and experimentation???
There would no doubt be a new terrorist underground established that held animals prisoner and used them as feeders/lab fodder etc whether they liked it or not.
What else would happen to our world if animals could speak?
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
THE PURPOSE OF DEFENCE POLICY
These extracts from an article on the Sovereignity website:
Our Armed Forces are for the defence of British national interests, at home and abroad, which includes our people wherever they may be, our territory and borders, and our vital strategic interests worldwide.
Our Forces are not for the promotion of foreign interests. If we commit our precious and brave servicemen and women to conflict, then we need to be sure, firstly, that it is in our national interest so to do.
Consider the arguments being used to justify the War:
"Saddam is in Breach of UN Resolutions"
UN resolutions? So what! Other countries are in breach of UN resolutions. Anyway, UN resolutions do not have the force of law, and there is nothing in our constitution which requires a British government to seek to enforce them as if they did. Most especially, it is not our job to run about the world imposing UN resolutions. It is not our job to strengthen globalist institutions like the UN.
"We Should Oppose Brutal States Like Iraq"
Every state can be brutal, and every state can be accused of being brutal by someone else.
It is not our business to oppose a state simply because it is "brutal", by someone's definition. If we decide to oppose all "brutal" regimes then we will either have a lot of opposing to do, or we will need to become highly selective and, consequently, hypocritical. We should only get involved when it is our business, and when it is in the best interests of our own country and people.
"Saddam is an Evil Tyrant"
Again, so what! The premise from which to argue is: It is for the Iraqi people to deal with Saddam, if they choose so to do. It is not for us to get involved. It is frankly, none of our business. Even if he eats babies for breakfast, it is none of our business, unless he is threatening British people or our interests. If he eats babies for breakfast then it is for the Iraqi people to bother about it, and deal with him, and organise so to do, if and when they see fit. If he's a bad leader then it is up to the Iraqis to decide when to depose him. This they may have done eventually if Iraq had been treated like a normal nation, and the punitive sanctions it suffered under for 12 years had been dropped.
For us to get involved is for us to interfere in other people's business, to impose our "morality" on them, and to be full of hypocrisy because whoever replaces him will likely be just as bad, and the people now calling for Saddam's head will look the other way when the new regime tortures and murders its old opponents.
It is also absurd to measure Iraq by our Western "democratic" standards.
"We Must Not Appease Dictators"
The "appeasement" issue only arises if he's a direct threat to our country and people. Otherwise, it's not our business.
"Iraq has Weapons of Mass Destruction"
Self-defence for self-determination is a principle of sovereignty. Iraq has a fundamental right to be a self-determining sovereign nation. Every self-determining nation is entitled to defend itself. Every self-determining nation has a perfect right to possess whatever weapons it wants.
Even if Iraq did have "weapons of mass destruction" there would be no reason for us to attack it. Such weapons would be of no direct threat to Britain, or even threaten our interests in the region.
Who, and for whose foreign interests, will our soldiers be required to fight and die for next?
From a patriotic point of view, there's nothing good in this war for Britain. We get zero benefit. We get nothing positive out of it. We've nothing to gain. It is absurd to talk about "winning", when there is nothing for us to "win".
Sovereignty recommends that the best way to support our troops is to ensure they do not ever again serve foreign interests, and that they should only be deployed where they are needed to defend our own British interests.
Our Armed Forces are for the defence of British national interests, at home and abroad, which includes our people wherever they may be, our territory and borders, and our vital strategic interests worldwide.
Our Forces are not for the promotion of foreign interests. If we commit our precious and brave servicemen and women to conflict, then we need to be sure, firstly, that it is in our national interest so to do.
Consider the arguments being used to justify the War:
"Saddam is in Breach of UN Resolutions"
UN resolutions? So what! Other countries are in breach of UN resolutions. Anyway, UN resolutions do not have the force of law, and there is nothing in our constitution which requires a British government to seek to enforce them as if they did. Most especially, it is not our job to run about the world imposing UN resolutions. It is not our job to strengthen globalist institutions like the UN.
"We Should Oppose Brutal States Like Iraq"
Every state can be brutal, and every state can be accused of being brutal by someone else.
It is not our business to oppose a state simply because it is "brutal", by someone's definition. If we decide to oppose all "brutal" regimes then we will either have a lot of opposing to do, or we will need to become highly selective and, consequently, hypocritical. We should only get involved when it is our business, and when it is in the best interests of our own country and people.
"Saddam is an Evil Tyrant"
Again, so what! The premise from which to argue is: It is for the Iraqi people to deal with Saddam, if they choose so to do. It is not for us to get involved. It is frankly, none of our business. Even if he eats babies for breakfast, it is none of our business, unless he is threatening British people or our interests. If he eats babies for breakfast then it is for the Iraqi people to bother about it, and deal with him, and organise so to do, if and when they see fit. If he's a bad leader then it is up to the Iraqis to decide when to depose him. This they may have done eventually if Iraq had been treated like a normal nation, and the punitive sanctions it suffered under for 12 years had been dropped.
For us to get involved is for us to interfere in other people's business, to impose our "morality" on them, and to be full of hypocrisy because whoever replaces him will likely be just as bad, and the people now calling for Saddam's head will look the other way when the new regime tortures and murders its old opponents.
It is also absurd to measure Iraq by our Western "democratic" standards.
"We Must Not Appease Dictators"
The "appeasement" issue only arises if he's a direct threat to our country and people. Otherwise, it's not our business.
"Iraq has Weapons of Mass Destruction"
Self-defence for self-determination is a principle of sovereignty. Iraq has a fundamental right to be a self-determining sovereign nation. Every self-determining nation is entitled to defend itself. Every self-determining nation has a perfect right to possess whatever weapons it wants.
Even if Iraq did have "weapons of mass destruction" there would be no reason for us to attack it. Such weapons would be of no direct threat to Britain, or even threaten our interests in the region.
Who, and for whose foreign interests, will our soldiers be required to fight and die for next?
From a patriotic point of view, there's nothing good in this war for Britain. We get zero benefit. We get nothing positive out of it. We've nothing to gain. It is absurd to talk about "winning", when there is nothing for us to "win".
Sovereignty recommends that the best way to support our troops is to ensure they do not ever again serve foreign interests, and that they should only be deployed where they are needed to defend our own British interests.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Nutty Woman with Green Box
Amusing happenings this morning as I chased a binman around our cul-de-sac in my Ugg boots and dressing gown. I've just got a Green Box for recycling stuff, and the last collection missed my box, so it was full to bursting for this collection. I knew they came early but I'd not put the box out on the doorstep (where they don't bloody see it), so I was listening for their dump truck. Then I spotted a guy in a fluorescent vest taking the boxes by hand out of the cul-de-sac. Argh! I dashed downstairs, grabbed the box and ran outside, following him lugging my green box and calling after him. I didn't realise but he was plugged into some music so didn't hear me.
Then has he put the box down and turned to empty it, he saw me in the morning darkness flapping along in my Ugg boots with dressing gown all wonky, hair a mess and mascara smudges under my eyes, going "Scuse me, can you take this from no. 28 please". The look on his face was a picture, but he took the box without a word and duly returned it to my doorstep.
I wonder if he'll be scared to return for the next collection ....
On a different note, ratties were put into their palatial new home last night. At first they were like but then they gingerly started to explore and climb tentatively onto the upper levels, whilst sniffing everything warily. Within 15 minutes they were doing banzai rattie-leaps up to the other levels, and scrapping with eachother for who gets to snuggle into the fluffy hat-nest first. I put a mini roll-top bath in there for their water dish, which they stand on and dip their paws delicately into the water to drink and wash themselves, it looks soooo sweet. It's amazing how they have such huge personalities, specially for animals so young, and I've only had them for a week! Winston seems to be the mummies boy who always wants my attention and is first to get out of the cage when I open the door. He also looks all pissed off if I get Franklin out to fuss over him, at one point even starting to gnaw at the bars to try to get out to me! He's the smaller of the two rats but the most dominant at the moment, it's strange to see him flip Franklin onto his back and do some rattie-dominance intensive preening, as if to say "Oi, I'm in charge here".
Franklin happily lies back and allows himself to be tickled, as he does whenever my hand flips him over for a tickle. He enjoys sitting on my shoulder for a doze, while Winston won't sit still and insists on crawling all over my clothes and trying to dive onto the floor from my shoulder.
Sad rattie-geek that I am, I have loads of digicam movies of their japes, that I upload onto rattie web forums for other like-minded owners to "oooh" and "aaah" over. Normal people swoon over baby movies, not me - only furry baby movies for me!!!
Then has he put the box down and turned to empty it, he saw me in the morning darkness flapping along in my Ugg boots with dressing gown all wonky, hair a mess and mascara smudges under my eyes, going "Scuse me, can you take this from no. 28 please". The look on his face was a picture, but he took the box without a word and duly returned it to my doorstep.
I wonder if he'll be scared to return for the next collection ....
On a different note, ratties were put into their palatial new home last night. At first they were like but then they gingerly started to explore and climb tentatively onto the upper levels, whilst sniffing everything warily. Within 15 minutes they were doing banzai rattie-leaps up to the other levels, and scrapping with eachother for who gets to snuggle into the fluffy hat-nest first. I put a mini roll-top bath in there for their water dish, which they stand on and dip their paws delicately into the water to drink and wash themselves, it looks soooo sweet. It's amazing how they have such huge personalities, specially for animals so young, and I've only had them for a week! Winston seems to be the mummies boy who always wants my attention and is first to get out of the cage when I open the door. He also looks all pissed off if I get Franklin out to fuss over him, at one point even starting to gnaw at the bars to try to get out to me! He's the smaller of the two rats but the most dominant at the moment, it's strange to see him flip Franklin onto his back and do some rattie-dominance intensive preening, as if to say "Oi, I'm in charge here".
Franklin happily lies back and allows himself to be tickled, as he does whenever my hand flips him over for a tickle. He enjoys sitting on my shoulder for a doze, while Winston won't sit still and insists on crawling all over my clothes and trying to dive onto the floor from my shoulder.
Sad rattie-geek that I am, I have loads of digicam movies of their japes, that I upload onto rattie web forums for other like-minded owners to "oooh" and "aaah" over. Normal people swoon over baby movies, not me - only furry baby movies for me!!!
Monday, December 12, 2005
Imagine this Christmas
This great entry on Jamie's Big Voice blog ...
I think John Lennon had it right when he wrote the words imagine all those people. It's easy if you try. So what I want you to do is close your eyes and imagine it's Christmas eve at 11 58 in the evening and Christmas day is just moments away and there is a stillness in the air. No cars are driving by as usual. No one chattering. No couples kissing in shop doorways on their way home. Just silence. Then you hear the clocks strike midnight. Its Christmas day and yet your still alone, cold, feeling sad and maybe your hungry too, but you know you have to save what you have because the shops that are open are expensive and you know you'll have to wait for the cheaper ones to open. So all there is, is you and your memories of how it was and how you wish it could be. Imagine how lonely that must feel.
It doesn't matter whether you're ill, a drug addict or an alcoholic or just homeless. No one should be alone at Christmas it's a time for family and friends. It's not a time to be on your own thinking of the could have beens and the maybe's. It's the same all over the world for the homeless and the lost at Christmas but just imagine what could be achieved with a little bit of hope and compassion? Not just here in the UK but all over the world. What a sight it would be if everyone just went out and handed a blanket or a sandwich and hot drink. What a few days this Christmas would be and say if you spoke to someone say at that hostel or place you don't really know to much about. You know about it because of its reputation. I think you'd be surprised how normal people are.
I think it would be an outstanding Christmas if it happened because it doesn't have to be gifts at Christmas. It just has to be a bit of humanity. Anyway that's my wish list for Christmas as stupid as it may sound.
==================
Amen to that Jamie ....
I think John Lennon had it right when he wrote the words imagine all those people. It's easy if you try. So what I want you to do is close your eyes and imagine it's Christmas eve at 11 58 in the evening and Christmas day is just moments away and there is a stillness in the air. No cars are driving by as usual. No one chattering. No couples kissing in shop doorways on their way home. Just silence. Then you hear the clocks strike midnight. Its Christmas day and yet your still alone, cold, feeling sad and maybe your hungry too, but you know you have to save what you have because the shops that are open are expensive and you know you'll have to wait for the cheaper ones to open. So all there is, is you and your memories of how it was and how you wish it could be. Imagine how lonely that must feel.
It doesn't matter whether you're ill, a drug addict or an alcoholic or just homeless. No one should be alone at Christmas it's a time for family and friends. It's not a time to be on your own thinking of the could have beens and the maybe's. It's the same all over the world for the homeless and the lost at Christmas but just imagine what could be achieved with a little bit of hope and compassion? Not just here in the UK but all over the world. What a sight it would be if everyone just went out and handed a blanket or a sandwich and hot drink. What a few days this Christmas would be and say if you spoke to someone say at that hostel or place you don't really know to much about. You know about it because of its reputation. I think you'd be surprised how normal people are.
I think it would be an outstanding Christmas if it happened because it doesn't have to be gifts at Christmas. It just has to be a bit of humanity. Anyway that's my wish list for Christmas as stupid as it may sound.
==================
Amen to that Jamie ....
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Merry Bullshitmas
An excellent post on this blog I found, summing up my feelings exactly:
http://www.ihatebullshit.com/2005/11/merry-bullshitmas.html
TV adverts have increasingly pissed me off this last week, with schmaltzy commercial taglines such as "Christmas is for families" and "Because giving feels so good .... give more!" and "Feel the Magic of Christmas". WHAT MAGIC? The magic of running up credit card debts because little Timmy wants a £200 XBox and won't be happy until he gets it? The magic of feeling pressured to cook huge meals "just because it's Christmas dinner" then throwing away 50% of the food? The magic of ramming yourself through crowds of po-faced shoppers who push past you and drag the bags out of your hands with their impatience to get past?
Why is Christmas for families? What about every other day of the year? Why should you only GIVE at Christmas? All these things should count ever day of the year, not just some commercially-dictated spending frenzy. Think of your family every day, be generous every day to everbody .... visit Grandma Bessie or old Arthur down the road more often, don't just think about relatives and loved ones at Christmas. They are there 365 days of the year not just during Crimbo week.
On Sun morning I was listening to the radio (at bloody 5.30am when I woke up) and listening to this preacher dude talking about Christmas. He recited the usual Crimbo story of the Shepherds and the stable and the angels, and he *really believed it*. I thought "how can anyone believe something that has absolutely no foundations or evidence, apart from what's written in an old book" - a book that has been rewritten and twisted to suit various powerful people's aims throughout the centuries.....
No one knows what day Jesus Christ was born on. From the biblical description, most historians believe that his birth probably occurred in September, approximately six months after Passover. One thing they agree on is that it is very unlikely that Jesus was born in December, since the bible records shepherds tending their sheep in the fields on that night. This is quite unlikely to have happened during a cold Judean winter. So why do we celebrate Christ’s birthday as Christmas, on December the 25th?
Christmas has pagan and roman origins, I'm not going to go into it here, just Google it. Even the red-faced fat jolly Santa we know and love is bullsh*t - The Civil War cartoonist Thomas Nast drew Santa Claus for Harper's Weekly in 1862; Santa was shown as a small elf-like figure who supported the Union. Nast continued to draw Santa for 30 years and along the way changed the color of his coat from tan to the now traditional red.
He then made an appearance in Coca-Cola advertising in 1930. Artist Fred Mizen painted a department store Santa in a crowd drinking a bottle of Coke. The ad featured the world's largest soda fountain, which was located in the department store of Famous Barr Co. in St. Louis, Mo. Mizen's painting was used in print ads that Christmas season, appearing in the Saturday Evening Post on December 27, 1930. And so it continued, the image was cemented. For the real Saint Nick, click here (http://www.stnicholascenter.org/Brix?pageID=38).
So what exactly are we celebrating apart from a hodgepodge of fabrications? And the demise of our bank accounts?
I've felt strangely separated from Christmas this year and I'm glad. The house is still too full of DIY stuff to warrant a tree and decorations, a lot of my friends aren't sending cards because they are as disillusioned as I am; we're also not buying needless tat but instead stuff we will USE and appreciate, or we just get together and have a few drinks instead. I gave two charity shoeboxes to Romanians, and this week I've applied for some vountary work for various organisations. It helps me to feel less pissed off by what I see around me. I'd rather spend Christmas making other people smile and feel less alone than indluging in an orgy of overeating, overspending and overcommercialisation.
http://www.ihatebullshit.com/2005/11/merry-bullshitmas.html
TV adverts have increasingly pissed me off this last week, with schmaltzy commercial taglines such as "Christmas is for families" and "Because giving feels so good .... give more!" and "Feel the Magic of Christmas". WHAT MAGIC? The magic of running up credit card debts because little Timmy wants a £200 XBox and won't be happy until he gets it? The magic of feeling pressured to cook huge meals "just because it's Christmas dinner" then throwing away 50% of the food? The magic of ramming yourself through crowds of po-faced shoppers who push past you and drag the bags out of your hands with their impatience to get past?
Why is Christmas for families? What about every other day of the year? Why should you only GIVE at Christmas? All these things should count ever day of the year, not just some commercially-dictated spending frenzy. Think of your family every day, be generous every day to everbody .... visit Grandma Bessie or old Arthur down the road more often, don't just think about relatives and loved ones at Christmas. They are there 365 days of the year not just during Crimbo week.
On Sun morning I was listening to the radio (at bloody 5.30am when I woke up) and listening to this preacher dude talking about Christmas. He recited the usual Crimbo story of the Shepherds and the stable and the angels, and he *really believed it*. I thought "how can anyone believe something that has absolutely no foundations or evidence, apart from what's written in an old book" - a book that has been rewritten and twisted to suit various powerful people's aims throughout the centuries.....
No one knows what day Jesus Christ was born on. From the biblical description, most historians believe that his birth probably occurred in September, approximately six months after Passover. One thing they agree on is that it is very unlikely that Jesus was born in December, since the bible records shepherds tending their sheep in the fields on that night. This is quite unlikely to have happened during a cold Judean winter. So why do we celebrate Christ’s birthday as Christmas, on December the 25th?
Christmas has pagan and roman origins, I'm not going to go into it here, just Google it. Even the red-faced fat jolly Santa we know and love is bullsh*t - The Civil War cartoonist Thomas Nast drew Santa Claus for Harper's Weekly in 1862; Santa was shown as a small elf-like figure who supported the Union. Nast continued to draw Santa for 30 years and along the way changed the color of his coat from tan to the now traditional red.
He then made an appearance in Coca-Cola advertising in 1930. Artist Fred Mizen painted a department store Santa in a crowd drinking a bottle of Coke. The ad featured the world's largest soda fountain, which was located in the department store of Famous Barr Co. in St. Louis, Mo. Mizen's painting was used in print ads that Christmas season, appearing in the Saturday Evening Post on December 27, 1930. And so it continued, the image was cemented. For the real Saint Nick, click here (http://www.stnicholascenter.org/Brix?pageID=38).
So what exactly are we celebrating apart from a hodgepodge of fabrications? And the demise of our bank accounts?
I've felt strangely separated from Christmas this year and I'm glad. The house is still too full of DIY stuff to warrant a tree and decorations, a lot of my friends aren't sending cards because they are as disillusioned as I am; we're also not buying needless tat but instead stuff we will USE and appreciate, or we just get together and have a few drinks instead. I gave two charity shoeboxes to Romanians, and this week I've applied for some vountary work for various organisations. It helps me to feel less pissed off by what I see around me. I'd rather spend Christmas making other people smile and feel less alone than indluging in an orgy of overeating, overspending and overcommercialisation.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
COUPLES
Couples suck - well to be precise, the type of Couple that Bridget Jones described as "Smug Marrieds". She is spot on and I hope I never turn into one or you will have free license to shoot me.
Some Couples are cool, they are fun, they do stuff together and seperately, they don't live and breathe off eachother, you can tolerate their presence. Other Couples do EVERYTHING together - and refuse to do ANYTHING apart. And if one person doesn't want to do something but the other does, they still stay together but one looks miserable while the other has a whale of a time. They turn into a single unit - a two-headed monster, so stupidly dependent on eachother that they have to ask permission just to go down the shops and buy some milk.
As a fiercely independent girlie I will never understand this. I've seen equally fiercely independent girlfriends of mine meet a guy, and suddenly they transmogrify into Coupledom, and suddenly they no longer want to go out anywhere unless he comes, they're happy to just sit around and watch TV instead, as long as he's watching it too. If he goes out with his mates they sulk and pout and whinge and get paranoid in case he's talking to other girls....she can't attach herself to him while he's out having a lark so instead of saying "sod you then I'm off out on the piss too", she stays in and whines and shrivels the night away.
Luckily the guy I'm with at the moment doesn't expect this element of Coupledom from me, I think he knows that if he tried it I'd tell him where to stick it. However, we do socialise quite a lot with some Smug Marrieds, and every time we've been together as a foursome (ugh I hate those couply nights out) the Smugs NEVER FAIL TO MENTION MARRIAGE. Phrases such as "when you two get married...." and "You may as well be married cos you bicker like you already are....." and "You've got a house now so you should get married..." leave me waning to scream at them. Why do the Smugs always want everyone around them who is unmarried or single, to get hitched? Why? So we can all turn into them? Such fun!
I can't understand why some girls don't want to keep seperate interests up...it's nice to go off and do your own thing for a day, leave him to do his, then meet up later on. Keeps things fresh. You have something that's still just for you, despite sharing everything else. I would get so bored and frustrated living in someone's pocket and I'm sure he'd get bored and fed up of me too!
But I'm 34 in January and a lot of my mates are getting hitched .... I don't feel left behind, marriage has never been a Life Goal Reason Why I Was Put On This Earth, but I do dread having to see all my friends at gatherings if they turn into Smug Marrieds and constantly ask me why I'm not married like them yet, and teasing me about being a spinster. Rather a Spinster who is independent, than a two-headed monster!
Some Couples are cool, they are fun, they do stuff together and seperately, they don't live and breathe off eachother, you can tolerate their presence. Other Couples do EVERYTHING together - and refuse to do ANYTHING apart. And if one person doesn't want to do something but the other does, they still stay together but one looks miserable while the other has a whale of a time. They turn into a single unit - a two-headed monster, so stupidly dependent on eachother that they have to ask permission just to go down the shops and buy some milk.
As a fiercely independent girlie I will never understand this. I've seen equally fiercely independent girlfriends of mine meet a guy, and suddenly they transmogrify into Coupledom, and suddenly they no longer want to go out anywhere unless he comes, they're happy to just sit around and watch TV instead, as long as he's watching it too. If he goes out with his mates they sulk and pout and whinge and get paranoid in case he's talking to other girls....she can't attach herself to him while he's out having a lark so instead of saying "sod you then I'm off out on the piss too", she stays in and whines and shrivels the night away.
Luckily the guy I'm with at the moment doesn't expect this element of Coupledom from me, I think he knows that if he tried it I'd tell him where to stick it. However, we do socialise quite a lot with some Smug Marrieds, and every time we've been together as a foursome (ugh I hate those couply nights out) the Smugs NEVER FAIL TO MENTION MARRIAGE. Phrases such as "when you two get married...." and "You may as well be married cos you bicker like you already are....." and "You've got a house now so you should get married..." leave me waning to scream at them. Why do the Smugs always want everyone around them who is unmarried or single, to get hitched? Why? So we can all turn into them? Such fun!
I can't understand why some girls don't want to keep seperate interests up...it's nice to go off and do your own thing for a day, leave him to do his, then meet up later on. Keeps things fresh. You have something that's still just for you, despite sharing everything else. I would get so bored and frustrated living in someone's pocket and I'm sure he'd get bored and fed up of me too!
But I'm 34 in January and a lot of my mates are getting hitched .... I don't feel left behind, marriage has never been a Life Goal Reason Why I Was Put On This Earth, but I do dread having to see all my friends at gatherings if they turn into Smug Marrieds and constantly ask me why I'm not married like them yet, and teasing me about being a spinster. Rather a Spinster who is independent, than a two-headed monster!
Thursday, November 24, 2005
The Sue Society continues....
More news from the Ridiculous World of the "Sue Sue Sue" Society, where a Muslim office worker has sued his employees for "making him feel left out" after they passed around bottles of wine for Christmas gifts, but did not include him as he is Muslim and doesn't drink alcohol.
Erm fair engouh, a bit insensitive of them not to give him an alternative and more suitable gift. By all means go speak to your manager and say "Oi this isn't on mate". But there's no need to bloody sue him!!!!!! What good will that do your career now? Not much good if you decide to stay with the same company methinks! I envisage people plopping greenies into his coffee now, or drawing pins on his chair ....
Worst of all was the case of a chef who cut his finger and is suing a hotel for £25,000 compensation by claiming no-one warned him about the danger posed by an avocado.
Michael McCarthy sliced into his hand when the unripened avocado he was trying to cut slipped and he lost control of his kitchen knife. He claims he had been shown how to cut the fruit, but had not been told the avocado might not be ripe.
The writ states: "He had not been given any instruction that this may happen. The knife went through the avocado and sliced his finger. The knife was 10 inches long."
The chef, who lost less than £1,000 in wages, claims he cannot pursue his hoped-for career as a chef in the RAF.
FOR A CUT LITTLE FINGER?? And he used a 10" knife to cut a tiny avocado? FFS! Why wasn't he laughed out of court? If he was a chef you'd think he'd have cut avocados before .... just another case of a lazy youngster who wants an easy life of a fat compensation cheque rather than work for it like the rest of us. How will this affect the future when a hotel or a restaurant hire a chef? If he had burned himself on the oven would he have sued because "the hotel didn't tell me ovens were hot"?? I should hope the hotel would counter-sue because "he didn't tell us he was stupid when he applied for this job".
Are restaurants going to make employees sign a document saying they will not sue if they are injured thru their own actions? Are they going to have to take out insurance policies to protect themselves from people like Michael?
When is this all going to stop? Oh no, I'm so angry I've banged the keys too hard and now my fingers are bruised - who can I sue! MICROSOFT! It's their fault! They should have put padded keys on here for people like me who type angry!!! I want a million dollars please, I'm scarred for life!
Erm fair engouh, a bit insensitive of them not to give him an alternative and more suitable gift. By all means go speak to your manager and say "Oi this isn't on mate". But there's no need to bloody sue him!!!!!! What good will that do your career now? Not much good if you decide to stay with the same company methinks! I envisage people plopping greenies into his coffee now, or drawing pins on his chair ....
Worst of all was the case of a chef who cut his finger and is suing a hotel for £25,000 compensation by claiming no-one warned him about the danger posed by an avocado.
Michael McCarthy sliced into his hand when the unripened avocado he was trying to cut slipped and he lost control of his kitchen knife. He claims he had been shown how to cut the fruit, but had not been told the avocado might not be ripe.
The writ states: "He had not been given any instruction that this may happen. The knife went through the avocado and sliced his finger. The knife was 10 inches long."
The chef, who lost less than £1,000 in wages, claims he cannot pursue his hoped-for career as a chef in the RAF.
FOR A CUT LITTLE FINGER?? And he used a 10" knife to cut a tiny avocado? FFS! Why wasn't he laughed out of court? If he was a chef you'd think he'd have cut avocados before .... just another case of a lazy youngster who wants an easy life of a fat compensation cheque rather than work for it like the rest of us. How will this affect the future when a hotel or a restaurant hire a chef? If he had burned himself on the oven would he have sued because "the hotel didn't tell me ovens were hot"?? I should hope the hotel would counter-sue because "he didn't tell us he was stupid when he applied for this job".
Are restaurants going to make employees sign a document saying they will not sue if they are injured thru their own actions? Are they going to have to take out insurance policies to protect themselves from people like Michael?
When is this all going to stop? Oh no, I'm so angry I've banged the keys too hard and now my fingers are bruised - who can I sue! MICROSOFT! It's their fault! They should have put padded keys on here for people like me who type angry!!! I want a million dollars please, I'm scarred for life!
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