Monday 30 July 2012

The Big Move!

Finally, the big move has now completed and good god I am utterly shattered.

My girlfriend and I have finally got a place together, just 5 minutes walk up the road from where we were staying before, in a little double room with a shared kitchen and bathroom.

So lovely to have our own place: a 2 big double bedroom flat, with very modern kitchen, big bathroom and very large lounge and dining area. And the storage is wonderful!

Being built in the 1960s, it doesn’t suffer from the claustrophobic modern disease at all. Plenty of everything.

And it is fully furnished too!

The move itself began at 9am on Saturday with the signing of the contract (which I had to pay 100% for because somebody forgot her purse… lol), followed by the picking up of the van.

What happened next way 7 hours of sheer hell, with the moving of what appeared to be dozens of boxes full of heavy lead-lined shoes and breezeblocks. And that was just Clare’s house.

Then that lot was dumped rather unceremoniously at the new place, and then a panicked run around to my old place, which is on the 2nd floor, to pick up my stuff which also appeared to consist of dozens of boxes full of heavy lead-lined shoes and breezeblocks.

And we didn’t manage to finish it all and return the van by 5pm, so had to rent it for Sunday as well. At least it wasn’t quite as mental, as only 1 trip to our old abodes each, and then an expensive trip to Tescos to go buy the necessities.

Tonight, however, everything is put away, the PC back up and connected to teh interwebs courtesy of a dongle for the time being; beds all dressed; lovely home-made dinner waiting for me when I got in around 19:40.

Ahh bliss!

Thursday 19 July 2012

Olympics : A Complete Farce

I mean, you just cannot make this stuff up:

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To be honest, you can’t really blame the Unions really. I mean, they have London over a proverbial 2012 Gold-plated barrel and are busy rubbing Vaseline all over their cocks….

But you have to wonder exactly what the visitors will think, assuming they actually get into the country!

  • Immense queues and immigration, with 1 desk open and staffed by a blind spastic with a severe hatred of foreigners, and work.
  • Crippled transportation links, with strikes and signal failures galore. Bus drivers who don’t know where they are going, and Zil lanes stopping the traffic moving.
  • Death and disorder with the police, ambulance and fire services unable to get anywhere because of the ZIl lanes.
  • Non English-speaking security guards provided by G4S, the people who are favourites to have police outsourcing contracts awarded to them from the ever impartial Tom Fucking Watson.
  • Not being able to buy anything on-site with anything other than a bloody Visa card.
  • And don’t forget chips.
  • Constant pissing rain.

Is this what you and I are going to have to pay tens of billions of pounds for?

It’s a national fucking disgrace!!!!!

Sunday 15 July 2012

Olympics : I am speechless!

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****sound of no words****

Thursday 12 July 2012

Olympics : Death Guaranteed!

According to sources in the know, these wonderful Zill lanes (or Olympic Lanes as we have to call them) are for Olympic Athletes, Officials and Sponsors only.

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NOBODY else can use them.

And that includes the Emergency Services, who will now need to queue up with the rest of us monkeys in the other available lane.

Let’s hope there aren’t too many deaths caused by ambulances and police cars being tied up behind buses and pizza delivery vans then.

Olympics : Utterly Shite

The latest balls up with the wonderful and monumental waste of money that is the London 2012 Olympics is the chaos around security.

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According to the Telegraph, Group 4 Security, the muppets who were awarded the contract to put thugs in bright yellow jackets and remove people’s illegal water, snacks and so-on, can’t fill the roles.

Oh and we didn’t see that fuck up coming, did we? No.

Ok, so here’s what we do to them. Get the army in. And deduct 1.5x the cost of the soldiers from the G4S contract payments. If it ends up they pay in the end, then so be it. HOWEVER, I seriously doubt there are any robust penalty clauses in the contract.

Saturday 7 July 2012

Sunday Dinner–Reserved and Paid For

I am treating my gorgeous Clar Ni Broin to a dinner tomorrow at the wonderful Taste of Cyprus restaurant in Elmer’s End.

It is a wonderful place to take your loved ones.

It gets 10/10 from both of us.

Even my lovely girls would like it, if I ever get the opportunity to take them here……. which I will. GB.

Friday 6 July 2012

Lazy Teachers – Useless Cretins

Well, with the so-called Government now embarking on a horrendous test to see how well our 11 year olds grasp the FUNDAMENTAL points of the English language, looks like the teachers are all now up in arms because their pathetic crappy teaching is now going to be shown to be the sham that it is:

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Yes, it’s really an attack on teachers, isn’t it? They are supposed to be teaching our children how to read and write; how to properly construct sentences; how to spell words correctly. Oh no. What a fucking shocker that is.

Teachers are the most underpaid and overworked members of the public service. They spend 18 hours a day marking, setting lesson plans, etc.

Yes, of course they fucking do.

They do absolutely fuck all.

Try telling that to my girlfriend, who today is working 3pm to 3am. That’s work that is. Not talking Marxist shite in the coffee room for 2 hours.

Teachers can’t teach because they themselves haven’t been taught. It’s the cumulative 20 or 30 years of leftie wank that has lead us to where we are today. Where children leave secondary school at the age of 16 and can’t even get a job in a shop without having to undergo remedial training by their employers.

Fucking hell.

If testing children to see if their teachers have done their job is “an attack on teachers” then please give me a baseball bat with nails in it. These useless sacks of meat need to be taught a lesson.

Something that they have not done themselves.

Tennis Elbow

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He’s British now, because he’s not lost, but if he loses in the final then he’ll just be a sad Scot.

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Ah. So the sad Scot loses again.