Monday, 26 June 2017

Plain Australian speak - what else...

The importance of accuracy in your tax return:
The Australian Tax Office has returned the Tax Return to a man in Townsville after he apparently answered one of the questions.
In response to the question, “Do you have anyone dependent on you?”
The man wrote:
2.1 million illegal immigrants,
1.1 million crackheads,
4.4 million unemployable scroungers,
80,000 criminals in over 85 prisons,
450 idiots in Parliament,
thousands of ‘retired politicians’
and an entire group that call themselves ‘Senators’!
The ATO stated that the response he gave was “unacceptable”.
The man’s response back to ATO was, “Who did I leave out?”
Aussie rules - yup!

Monday, 19 June 2017

Tower of Babel...

I can't think of any commercial enterprise more regulated than the building industry. There are so many hurdles to jump with just about every item of a contract, so why on earth is it so difficult to point the finger at the sequence of events which eventually lets a builder on site to do the work.

The Client briefs the design team, they follow the rules, and the builder tenders for the work.

Eventually, it's job done, so it's not beyond the wit of man to realise that probably the architect and maybe the engineer needs good talking to.

Forget silly old berks like Corbyn and that idiot Lammy, trying to blame it all on someone in government and poke political fingers at all and sundry, it's the 'professionals' who are at fault.

I hope there are building inspectors and council officials having uncontrolled bowel movements everywhere, especially up in London.

Friday, 9 June 2017

On feeling let down by politicians...

Not good for me, nearing seventy.

No recognition of the terrorist upsurge, no relief from taxes paid to foreign despots, no chance of getting away from Kinnock inspired Brussels.

Crap time really, and I need intensive gardening to lift my soul.

Maybe I'll fel better in a few days time, but until then, sod everything.

Monday, 5 June 2017

London Bridge...

My little girl travels to London Bridge every day, and I'll be thinking of her all the time.

Thank you for nothing Blair. You let all these bastards fester among true Brits with your smarmy welcome and handouts and ignorance of the future of our beloved country.

Thankfully, Corbyn won't be allowed to do any more of the damage after Thursday, and with Brexit firing on all cylinders, we'll get some revenge against more Blair/Brown failures as well.

And you can fuck off too Campbell, you toxic poisonous little shit.

Monday, 29 May 2017

Useful arrogant lefty Yank...

Why cannot real people try to better themselves?

Friday, 26 May 2017

Second Lieutenant Election...

I know I couldn't give a flying feck for our pathetic politicians these days, they'll all thick, manipulative liars, so just as this 'election' is looming, I'll stick in my two-pennorth for good time's sake.

Just for the record, I'll put my cross against Greg Clark, as I have actually met him, and although Tunbridge Wells will turn Labour when hell freezes over, he does seem a nice enough bloke. The others don't seem to be anywhere, so I'll conveniently forget them.

I've got so many more important things to do! The leeks need re-potting, and a chum down the road needs some tomato plants. I need some more exercise on my electric bike, and we need some more wine soon (that's my day  job)!

I'm glad we don't live in Manchester, or Oldham. I've been there on occasions, but it's a different world, so I'll stay safely here thanks.

Friday, 19 May 2017

I know what I like...

I know what I like...


As just a few chums here know, I'm still a big fan of  Genesis, and when I can't be arsed to read a book, or anything, I grab the Ipad, clunk in a few digits, and revel in a few of my favourite songs!

This song was regularly on the radio in the early seventies, and we were living in Hastings at the time. There was, back then, a super record shop called 'The Disc Jockey Plus Two', near The Memorial (older inhabitants will remember that), and as I'd heard this fabulous song on the wireless, I went to enquire as to whether I could afford to purchase the said song...

Too late, it was on an album 'Selling England by the pound', and £3.40 was way above what Mrs Scroblene would have allowed, so I didn't buy it and left.

A few years later, I saw a forty-five version in a cheapo sale and snapped it up (more money in those days), and it's still a favourite!

Elder Daught and I have watched Phil Collins cavorting around the stage live on several occasions, and this version still reverberates...