Sunday 31 July 2011

31.7.11 Estate Agent

I thought estate agents were quite keen to take many thousands of pounds for selling a house.  Most often, the criticism is that they take a rather large fee for a rather limited amount of work.  However, my gripe is nothing to do with the fees; if someone can sell my house at the right sort of price, then I'll pay them the percentage as per the deal.  To my amazement, though, it's not always straightforward to get one of the agents round to look at the house and suggest a deal.  Apparently, there's room enough in the market for certain fuckers to be 'picky'.  Cook and Forth, for example, rang to cancel the appointment that had been arranged by Mrs MWSC.  Apparently, in order for Mr Cook to deign to leave his cubby hole, we were required (said his assistant) to guarantee that we would give him the business.  Yes, that's right - without his having seen our property, or considered its true worth or discussed the price for which it might be marketed, and without his having discussed the terms to establish the percentage cut he would be taking for providing some sort of service, we were expected to guarantee that he would be given the job of selling our house.  Fuckin' half wit!

The assistant informed Mrs MWSC that there had recently been a spate of 'lost business', where people would call out Mr Cook only to award the business to someone else.  This was obviously inconveniencing Mr Cook and unnecessarily increasing the mileage on his car for no gain.  Not surprisingly, Mrs MWSC expressed disbelief at the suggestion that we would be guaranteeing the business, and grilled the assistant about the lunacy of such an approach.  "Don't have a go at me, I'm just relaying the information to you," she said, trying to avoid having to defend her boss's approach with anything like a proper argument.  Mrs MWSC suggested that there was most likely some very good reason or reasons why people decided not to proceed with using Cook and Forth.

For the record, a drive from the offices of Cook and Forth to the residence in question takes on average 15 minutes.  To my mind, that's a reasonable enough undertaking to encourage some speculation, towards accumulation of around £6000 for sticking a house on the market.  Oh well, never mind, I have enlisted the help of another estate agent, and Mr Cook has of course saved not just an hour of his time for the round trip and look at my house, but £3 worth of petrol.  That will no doubt give him the peace of mind to keep the second bar of his electric fire going a bit longer.

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Saturday 30 July 2011

30.7.11 Nauseating (No.1)

Jonathan Ross

[ His latest guise is a cross between Charles I and Guy Fawkes - and makes him look like more of a twat than usual ]

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30.7.11 Fighting Back

A 72-year-old pensioner is under arrest on a charge of murder, after a robber was stabbed to death at his family's shop.  All I can say is that if masked raiders attempt to rob a shop at gunpoint, then they forego any right to soft treatment or sympathy.  So, of the two robbers, one is in hospital with a knife wound, and one is dead.  By my logic, if they had not chosen to put on masks, and use a gun to threaten a shopkeeper in an attempt to rob the store, then both would be in the pub now, no doubt.  I also think that the pensioner deserves to be released as soon as possible, because he acted in self defence, and in my opinion was entitled to rebuff the intruders who one would have thought had the upper hand.  It's their own fault that they came off worse.  Clearly they had no knowledge the pensioner is an ex-boxer who still works out at the gym!

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30.7.11 Soft & Mild

What is Mild Language?  There are so many films around which contain this form of communication, but I am not quite sure of the definition.  I suppose we have all become accustomed to the phrase 'Strong Language' as a euphemism for shit/fuck/piss, and 'Very Strong Language' paves the way for cunt.  But how on earth does one define 'Mild Language'?  Could such words as bother, bloody, bastard, bugger, arse, or wanker be included in this category?  I think this is impossible to answer.  'Mild Language' is a pointless, vague, useless and confusing term; language cannot itself be mild.  Should it instead be re-labelled as "Mildly Offensive Language", which would at least make some sense and turn the useless phrase into something that could exist.  It would not however help determine what might fall within the category.  So a film described as containing 'Mild Language' could be any film at all, depending on one's personal levels of tolerance.  The C word does not offend me, so the classification is pointless.  However, bad grammar offends the fuck out of me, but nowhere are there warnings about a film's tendency to abuse the English language and promote thickness and/or ignorance. 

Then we are warned of Mild Sex, Strong Sex, Infrequent Sex, Moderate Sex References, and a whole load of other useless terms that do nothing to indicate what we are to be served up.

What is Soft Drug Use?  Not being an expert on drugs at all, I have no idea regarding the scale of substance abuse, rituals for the intake of drugs, or the consequences of taking various amounts of drugs.  So, I cannot really say what might constitute 'Soft Drug Use', nor could I set the dividing line between soft and hard.  A trailer for a film just advertised on the TV included a warning that it contained 'Soft Drug Use'.  Does that mean people are filmed smoking.  How do we know what is contained within the cigarette(s) or what the nature is of any tablets swallowed?  The very fact that drug use can in some cases be described (legitimately, it seems) as soft means that we are all condoning drug taking.  It's okay to take drugs, just stick to the soft variety, not the hard stuff.  So, in this world, it's all right to dabble in soft drugs, and use mild language (whatever that is) and if you want to feel free to watch or pass porn around, it's okay if it's the softcore version.  Equally, soft or petty crime is not a real issue.  This explains why antisocial behaviour is not really counted as crime.  There is also the resultant tag of 'rogue' that applies to someone who is in fact a criminal.  If the person's offences and actions are at the 'mild' end of the scale, apparently there's a degree of tolerance afforded. 

Somehow society creates new terms and interpretations, to excuse all sorts of behaviours.  It's all complete shit, and the creators of new rules provide, by increments, excuses for people to be cunts, or get away with promoting lower standards of everything.  Meanwhile, the rule makers and commentators can feel good about themselves and think that all is okay.

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30.7.11 Amazing Argos

Of the 2300+ "Hot Deals" that are available from today until 17th August, I thought I'd share with you the details of one particular offer, which demonstrates an unusual approach to retail.

Catalogue Number: 652/2740 Aluminium Cafe Set
Table and four chairs
Save 1/3  £149.99  £99.99

The text beside the dimensions for the table and chairs noted is, and I quote - "Has previously been on sale for £63.74"

So, we have a catalogue containing super deals where apparently a table and set of chairs was £149.99, but we're now supposed to be overwhelmed to the point of rushing to purchase because of a reduction to £99.99, when in the recent past, the price was in fact just £63.74.  What a complete farce.

Note: the 'Atlantic Four Seater Patio Set' is on a deal as well - Save £10  £79.99  £69.99 (although it "was previously on sale for £59.49" !?!)

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30.7.11 Golden Balls-Up

Ten years ago, Gordon Brown, the man in charge of the nation's finances, made a decision that has turned out to be the biggest and best of his many fuck-ups.  He ordered the sale of half of the UK's gold reserves, just when the market for gold was at a 20-year low.  Now, I am no financial expert, but most people know that when there is a crisis in the world markets of any description, gold is the thing that acts as a 'safety net' for investors, and the price/value of gold rises; this is a pattern that is well established.  So the gold that would today be worth £12.4billion was dispensed with in return for just £2.1billion.  Oops!

Ditching it was so stupid, but using the proceeds to buy foreign currencies including the Euro was even more mad.  The guy was an idiot, is an idiot, and spent many years wasting resources, plus secretly raiding all manner of other reserves.  He raided pensions, and squandered enormous sums, so that when a crisis loomed, the cupboard was bare.  Guess what?  It turns out that his advisors at the time were Ed Miliband and Ed Balls.  I wouldn't trust Labour to put a pound coin in a shopping trolley let alone manage the country's finances, but I've no doubt that in the future, when Gordon's balls-up has been conveniently forgotten/eradicated from public awareness, there will be an election result that sees Labour return to government, to fuck things up a bit more.

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Friday 29 July 2011

29.7.11 Body Suit

In the paper this week was a story of a 41-year-old woman who has 85% of her body covered in tattoos, and the remaining 15% is due to be covered quite soon.  It was a mildly interesting feature, and I am all for people doing whatever they like regarding tattoos.  At the end of the piece, there was a quote from the woman herself, in relation to funny looks and opinions, and it is perhaps the daftest comment she could make to try and 'justify' her appearance.

"My eldest say's she's not too keen on it, but she's had two tattoos herself, so she can't object that much."

That's right, luv.  Let's get things in perspective - there's clearly no difference between having two tattoos and having a full body suit, including facial tattoos.  Ha!

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29.7.11 Pointless (No.17)

Prince Charles

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29.7.11 Fifteen Words

I read in the Sun newspaper a small article on the woes of Birmingham City FC, and my attention was caught by one small paragraph containing just fifteen words.

And the club have finally admitted they are in trouble and need to raise cash.

The 'sentence' should of course have read:

The club has finally admitted it is in trouble and needs to raise cash.

So, of the fifteen words, five are wrong.  That's a third of it!  In line with most tabloids, a third of everything is shit.

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29.7.11 Coach Party

Not so much a conversation, as a brief exchange with the barmaid, close to what seemed a rather busy restaurant in the Holiday Inn, Leeds/Bradford.

TMWSC:   Why's it so busy?
Barmaid:   Coach party
TMWSC:   Why would a coach party stop here?
Barmaid:   En route to somewhere else

Priceless . . .

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Wednesday 27 July 2011

27.7.11 Basildon Buffoons

Political correctness has reached ludicrous levels.  The latest farce relates to the decision by Basildon Council to delay evicting travellers and gypsies who are camped illegally.  An £18Million operation has been put on hold because the council has decided it needs to arrange "cultural awareness training".  Have you ever heard such a load of cuntin' crap?

100 bailiffs learning about traveller heritage, and how to avoid using offensive slang is hardly a worthwhile expense, and it's a complete joke that with millions having to be spent to deal with the problems, all is now in jeopardy because a few nobs at the town hall have decided to sort out this shit 'training' before the end of August deadline to move on the travellers.  This country is fucked.

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Tuesday 26 July 2011

26.7.11 Table Manners

I read in today's paper a quirky story under the heading of "Sexy lion eats man".  Drawn to the small article by the unusual headline, I read on:

A man was eaten by a lion apparently searching for a new mate.  He was attacked by the beast as it roamed close to his home in Zambia.  A source said: "This man was badly eaten by the lion.  This is the mating season for the lions so they move a lot."

I am not sure if "badly eaten" means that the lion had poor table manners, or whether it chewed with its mouth open. 

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Monday 25 July 2011

25.7.11 Pointless (No.16)

Shane Warne

[NB: In his Poker advert, he says, "We play different" - not We are different, or We play differently.  So, pointless and illiterate]

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Sunday 24 July 2011

24.7.11 Blue Badge Parking

What a complete piss-take!  I have just had a minor altercation with someone whose attitude dumbfounded me.  For some completely fucked-up reason, she seemed to think it was all right to leave a vehicle across the entrance to my property.  So, I could not get out, I could not get in (nor could my neighbour who shares access) and the narrowness of the lane was reduced by the Grand Voyager to the point where only a cyclist could pass by en route to other houses further along.


What gave her the right to do this?  The blue fucking badge.  After a couple of hours, the woman returned to the vehicle as I waited.  After she confirmed the vehicle was hers, I enquired: "What on earth makes you think it's all right to park across my driveway so it's impossible to get in and out?"  Her response was that there was no room further down.  I retorted that that was hardly relevant or an excuse for leaving it here.  Her wittering of "All right, all right" did nothing to explain her perverse view, but her comment of "I thought you'd be able to squeeze through" served to annoy the fuck out of me.  "I shouldn't have to!" 


"You don't have to say anything; we know what it's like 'cos we get it at our house."  This was the thing that left me dumbfounded.  If she knows what it's like, why is she doing it to others?  Obviously I made such an enquiry and expressed amazement that I should have to put up with such shit, and I was told I don't need to be nasty.  Twat!  Anyway, I walked away before I called her a stupid inconsiderate cunt, although I did highlight that a blue badge does not give her the right to abandon a car like that, and that she was in effect abusing the badge.


As it happens, my neighbour was just returning, and had in fact been waiting in the road for a few minutes, getting wound up while his young daughter sat still in her booster seat.  I left him to enlighten the biddy, who was actually quite able, and only disabled in her ability to apply common fucking sense to living her life.  The view above is not quite the access through the open gate that my neighbour was expecting!  She sat in the passenger's seat, and then a guy in a wheelchair appeared.  He managed on his own to go up a side ramp, and get into the driver's seat.  The whole vehicle rose a bit, and then they were off.


I've nothing against disabled people, and I appreciate their need to have better access to places etc.  But, the terms of use of the Blue Badge do not allow holders to cause an obstruction.  I hear you considering whether I am over reacting.  All I can say is that this is not an isolated incident.  No, there have been issues week in, week out, for years.  So, I am all out of tolerance.

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24.7.11 Police Interceptors

Amazing what counts as entertainment these days.  Police Interceptors on Channel Five decided this week to include a section on a fantastically demanding topic, with the film crew at hand to capture the input of two policemen.  So, a police vehicle, two expensive officers, a sound man, a camera man, and probably someone else to support them.  Then, the narrator did his stuff to present how the major incident panned out.

What was the nature of the issue requiring so much attention and expense?  A taxi driver had not been paid £11 by two people he'd dropped home after their night out drinking!  Through this programme, we were able to witness the fantastic skills of the two officers, as they managed to relieve two slightly inebriated people of a tenner (a compromise amount) while the Channel Five crew caught it all on camera, to serve up as entertainment.  Riveting!  Hmmmm . . . . Police, Camera, Action it certainly was not.

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Saturday 23 July 2011

23.7.11 Sauna

If you are considering a sauna, then you may like to learn about the options available in the Leeds area, where I recently shed a couple of pounds.  I should highlight, however, that I did almost pass out a couple of times, but that was a small price to pay for the benefits.  The health spa in question?  I'll tell you in a minute.  First, I'd like to identify a couple of particular facilities.  The first is "The Snake".  This is a weird human chain, with numbers varying from 10 to 15, and in what can only be described as a humid and oppressive atmosphere, the participants wait for an unknown period of time, slowly making their way forward.  The session ends when you have nearly fainted, and then you need to pay for the treatment at the end of the line - which is the till at a retail counter.  There's only one person serving, so it helps those in line endure a bit more of the treatment than necessary. 

Upstairs, there's "The Funnel" which is really a step up from The Snake, in that it involves a dual ordeal.  First there's a repeat of the 'snake' experience, followed by a brief session of lifting.  It's not too demanding, just a one-handed lift of 10 kilos, putting the item in a metal cage, and then lifting it back out again.  The real test, though, comes straight after that, when you have to join a queue of 100 to 200 people all contained within a funnel-shaped waiting area, surrounded by glass.  Ventilation is nil, so clearly there's the opportunity for irritation, nausea, fainting, sweating and losing weight.  If you don't actually collapse before the door at the end of the funnel is opened, you might find you're trampling on someone else who has in fact succumbed to the awful environment.  This whole ordeal leads to anxiety as well, as all those involved get nervous about getting a seat at the end of the process, and those who are with friends are desperate to find seats next to one another.

At the end of the experience, it's possible to exhale, chill just a little bit, but by no means stretch out your arms or legs.  No, the result for all is limited to passive endurance of a cramped position for a few hours after the mayhem of the Snake and the Funnel.  So the 'warm down' is denied.  Still, all those who go through this experience certainly come out of it knowing just how tough everything is; yet, they so often come back again for another go.

Where is this place?  Leeds Bradford Airport.  Next time you're there, join the heaving masses in the bar/cafe area for some gentle frustration and claustrophobia, followed by a go on The Snake, in front of WH Smiths.  Then go upstairs for a Ryanair boarding experience.  Finally, sit in a cramped position for three hours.  But, despite all this, I know you'll do it again, and again, and again.

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23.7.11 Auto Pilot

Yet another traumatic experience with Ryanair last week.  Both ways, the landings were really heavy - but that was the least traumatic element of my journeys to/from Spain.  The most annoying aspect was the incessant gabbling of the cabin crew; it seems their job descriptions, without exception, require them all to emit a stream of useless information, committed to memory for regurgitation whenever the mood takes them.  It is all relentless.  After making my way down the plane (apparently I needed to be told to do this, during the boarding process) I found what was described as a "free and available seat" rather than one already occupied by a hot fat sweaty cunt.  After the usual cliches and safety instructions (which include a diagram showing a brace position which is impossible to achieve between seats that seemed rather closer together than back in April) I was invited by the noisy Donna to "sit back, relax and enjoy the flight".  This was a short-lived phase, because three minutes later she was back on the tannoy explaining the forthcoming efforts of the cabin crew to administer to our needs (and rip us off).  Her voice went up and down in all the standard places, as little bursts of useless info were forced through the speakers at 'disturbing the peace' sound levels.  The public-speaking expert then said, "The use of the toilets are not permitted" . . . !!!

A couple of things are worth noting, to demonstrate the amazing parallel universe of 'Ryanair World'.  The first is the price of Pepsi.  A small can (150ml) was 1.80 euros.  At the exchange rate on board the 737-800 aeroplane, this equated to £3.65 for the equivalent of a normal can (330ml).  That is daylight/airline robbery!  By the way, Heineken was equivalent to £7.14 per pint!

The second ludicrous factor was reading the Ryanair "Amazing Deals on Tickets".  For various attractions (eg. Madame Tussauds) it was possible to buy tickets in advance and save a few quid.  But there was a curious inclusion of The London Eye within the offer; apparently the 'savings' were worthy of our time in considering whether to spend loads of money well in advance, to make a saving.  Buying from Ryanair is possible at:

Adult - £18.00     Child - £9.50
These prices compare with the price you would pay on the day you decide to visit, at:
Adult - £18.60    Child - £9.54

So, 60p off for an adult, and 4 fucking pence for kids!  Bargain of the century, eh?

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Monday 11 July 2011

11.7.11 Route Sixty Six

Driving along the A66 this morning, I couldn't fail to note that work is set to commence, what with cones everywhere along a two mile stretch.  It is impossible not to feel fucked already by awful traffic problems that are looming.  I am puzzled by the signs that seem to want to explain why the work is being undertaken.  To my mind, councils do from time to time spend money to repair crappy road surfaces, and widen the odd road.  Then, when the road is in better shape, the police and council toss a coin to decide by how much the speed limit should be reduced on the new/better road (Heads = deduct 10mph, Tails = deduct 20mph, the coin landing on its edge and staying upright = leave the fuck alone).  Apparently the reason for sorting the A66 out, east of Middlesbrough, according to a yellow sign with black writing is:

Improving the A66 to create
business and job opportunities
in Redcar and Cleveland

What a complete load of bollocks.  I think it's designed to try and gain some sympathy and understanding for the horrendous disruption that's to come, and counteract the effects of a separate sign that indicates the work will last six months!  It will create a fucking nightmare and hinder business, and create not a single job.  The sign that is supposed to justify the pending mess is thus a stupid lie. 

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Friday 8 July 2011

8.7.11 June Quotes of the Month

1st Place    - "Slugs are hermaphrodites by trade"           (Josh)

2nd Place   - "Crisps are dry for a reason"                         (Jarrod)

3rd Place    - "I do like a secondary meat at Christmas"   (Josh, again!)

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8.7.11 Tokyo Laundry

Junior arrived home yesterday with some new clothes, after a mini-spree at the shops.  The trainers were excellent, and even TMWSC could tell the brand - aided somewhat by the small Puma logo.  He then put on a shirt with a hood (these constituted a single item, not two garments) and it looked smart.  To my mildly trained eye I suggested/questioned Superdry? on the basis of some very limited exposure to the brand.  I was not correct, as it turned out.  Junior had purchased it without properly clocking the actual name, so we both looked at the thick cardboard tag that had been removed from around the second button.  It was relatively pleasing to note the closeness of my guess - it said 'Tokyo Laundry'.  Chuckles all round.

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8.7.11 Alistair Darling

What a completely horrendous decision.  In fact, it was not so much a decision as an act of sabotage, made out of spite.  It has been confirmed that less than two days before leaving office, and after the Labour Party was on the way out after losing the election, the Chancellor signed up to an EU agreement that he could (and should) have put to one side until the incoming Chancellor (George Osborne) could decide what to do.  Knowing Labour had lost, he went ahead and signed, committing the UK to billions of pounds in costs for Eurozone bail-outs.  Dis-fucking-gusting.  There can be but one word that's fitting to describe him, based on this atrocious display, and you all know what that word is . . . . !

TMWSC

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8.7.11 Common Sense Prevails

Four days ago, I noted within my post regarding Bravery Awards the stupidity that surrounds the lack of action often demanded because of Health & Safety legislation, and the country's preoccupation with moronic approaches to the simplest things.  As if by magic, I read in the paper yesterday that there's to be an application of common sense.  Apparently no member of the emergency services will now be investigated or prosecuted for breaching laws if in the course of normal duty, he/she acts 'heroically'.  Police, Firefighters and Paramedics can now get on and do the right thing.  Apparently there is also a will to stop school trips being compromised by teachers having to take account of stupid rules, and a whole range of stupid situations can be avoided.  I rather doubt that the blog had anything to do with the change of tack, but it's nice to rant about something and see a result within 72hrs!

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8.7.11 Labour Letter

The youngest son of TMWSC received a letter yesterday, from the local MP.  It was a patronising effort, calculated to secure the support and vote of someone now on the electoral role.  Obviously access to the electoral role information means that politicians can play the 'marketing game' through what is nothing other than a mailshot.  The content of the letter is fairly ghastly, as you'd probably expect.  Here are some extracts, in bold with my notes mixed in:

Congratulations on your recent 18th Birthday! [If you saw the photo of the guy, you'd realise that the congratulations could never ever be meant with any form of sincerity!]

Although you probably haven't thought about it before, this means you are now able to vote for the first time.  [The very first line of the first paragraph makes me immediately think the guy has no idea at all about my son's awareness of politics.]

You probably don't need me to remind you that we now have a new Government, a Conservative-Liberal Democrat coalition whose savage cuts are going to hit young people in this area the hardest.  [These will be the savage cuts forced upon the coalition by the crappiest form of financial care imaginable, as demonstrated by the appalling efforts of the Labour government which squandered billions before trying to blame everything on the rest of the world.]

This ConDem coalition is going to affect us all.  I am getting in touch with as many young people as I can so that I can gain a full understanding of the issues that you care about.  Whether you want to chat about applying to University and our position on tuition fees, or if you're going into an apprenticeship, please don't hesitate to contact me.  [Strangely my youngest is rather disinterested in all of this, as he is autistic and couldn't give a shit about voting Labour.  I am sure, however, that the facilities available to him will be cut at some point, and it will be debatable whether that's necessary because of the mess labour caused and left the coalition to deal with, or because the coalition is over zealous.  More likely, the local authority (Labour controlled) will jump on the bandwagon to cut everything in site and blame the Tories.]

The creepiness of the approach is quite horrible, and misleading.  I resent the letter and invitation to join the Labour Party.  I hope the letter was paid for by Labour and not as part of the MP's outgoings chargeable to the government.  I suggest that if an MP is trying to secure new votes, that he/she first checks whether the recipient is suitable to receive a shit letter.

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8.7.11 Sky's the Limit

I received yesterday a telephone call from James.  James works for Sky, and is a tenacious little chap - clearly young and suited to his telesales role.  However, as with all nuisance callers, he doesn't take a hint very well.

He asked if he could speak to Mrs MWSC, and I said she was out.  "When will she be back?" he asked.  I asked who was calling and established James's identity.  As soon as he said "I'm calling from Sky" I knew this was a pointless call, and every further second wasted on the line was non-reclaimable.  "I'm sorry but she won't want to speak to you, she had a call a while ago from someone at Sky and we don't want Sky, thanks."

I thought that would be good enough, but it seemed I'd overlooked my wife's longstanding relationship with James, and was speaking out of turn.  After all, I've only known her for 24 years, and he'd called her "back in June".  So, on 7th July, he announces he'd become acquainted with her somewhere between 7 and 37 days beforehand.  If we go for the middle ground, that's one day passing after a phone call for every year that I've been with Mrs MWSC.  "She would have told you that we don't want Sky, not least because we're moving."  So, I'd told James we don't want Sky, that Mrs MWSC won't want to speak to him, and that on top of that, we're moving.  In my book, that's a "hint".  He didn't take it.

"Yes, she said that you're moving, and I was phoning to check if you had a date yet."  I considered for a second the relative priorities.  James's priority was to sell me a dish and package.  In fact, that was not his priority as such, it was his single mission in life, just as a fish in the sea goes along sucking in plankton without realising what it's actually doing.  My priorities in life do not include installation of Sky in a house from which I'm hoping to move, nor discussing anything Sky-related for the foreseeable future.  I decided to fend him off with "No, and we're probably renting, so until we know where we're going, or when, and whether the house we go to has Sky already, there's really no point in even thinking or worrying about it."

"Oh, you're going to rent are you?"

When he said this, I was tempted by the appropriate response, which was "No, you stupid cunt - I just lied to you!  What's the point of me telling you something so that you then turn it straight back round as a question?"  However, I chose not to go down that path but instead decided to remain calm.  "Yes, so the last thing on my mind is whether to have Sky or not."  This was another hint, or so I thought.

"Well I just wanted to look at what packages might be suitable."

"No thanks."  The call ended then, because I put the receiver down.  Actually, I mean back into the stand to cut the connection, as opposed to simply 'down'.  Mrs MWSC quite often adopts that technique, placing the receiver on the table and letting the caller ramble on while she goes about her business.  On one such occasion, the caller was the subject of a wind-up, because the verbose individual was so entrenched in the blurb and a script, that Mrs MWSC and son of TMWSC were massively amused to extend the length of the call with the very occasional 'ah' and 'right' when picking up the handset for a second or two here and there.  Twelve minutes, and for eleven and a half of them, the phone was on the table.

Anyway, we have no Sky.

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Wednesday 6 July 2011

6.7.11 Car Stickers

Today I followed a Ford Focus.  The main focus of my attention was the signage in the back windscreen; two stickers announcing to me who was 'on board'.  Obviously the use of 'on board' for a Ford Focus is misuse of the term, in my opinion.  Still, let's allow that one to pass, and concentrate on the main point - the discrepancy arising from two claims regarding those apparently on board.

There is of course on file (by way of my post dated 12th February 2011) a comprehensive analysis of the 'Child On Board' phenomenon, so I will try to avoid repetition of the inappropriateness highlighted in that long post.  Instead, my attention will be directed more to the pairing of signs in the Focus.

Mummy's Little Princess On Board

Mum To Be On Board

The first thing that struck me was that the Mum-To-Be sign suggested the driver (who was at least female) was pregnant.  If so, then in theory, the sign could be fitting.  However, the presence of the Little Princess sign rather messed things up because that would mean the driver was already a mother, and that she had no right to claim some sort of sympathetic approach from me (to excuse shit driving, for example) and perhaps encourage me not to ram her car up the arse in case the shock caused a miscarriage.  The fact that one sign claimed the on-board Princess was "Mummy's" meant that the other sign should have read Mum On Board.

I considered whether the Princess was the offspring of someone other than the driver, but dismissed this as unlikely.  There are not too many small females who provide their own signage to put up in other people's cars, to be chauffeured around and fool those in the car behind into thinking they are possibly the daughters of random female drivers.  After deciding my logic was totally sound, I concluded that it was the mother/driver who was at fault. 

A mile further on, I realised that there was actually no passenger, let alone a supposed 'Princess'.  It made me wonder: if the driver could lie about having a Princess on board, then she could probably lie about being pregnant as well!  "Where will it all end?", I asked myself.  The answer was actually 'at the top of the hill', as it turned out, because the driver turned left and I was left to drive on without dubious statements/claims dangling in my field of view.

In summary, the signs were contradictory, and whether a car has 'on-board' occupants who qualify as Royalty or some-cunt-expecting-a-baby-to-pass-through-in-the-near-future is completely irrelevant.  Even hazardous goods don't get words, only an orange square now.  A further sign in the Focus would have been appropriate, I thought, as I pulled up at the lights; Liar On Board.  But as I pulled up a minute later at the end of my journey, I realised that this sign could itself be confusing for anyone other than the Focus driver, who was clearly lying.  As the 'Liar On Board' claim could be a lie, then any of us could display just this sign and having it dangling or stuck to the glass would in effect be meaningless, because it's in effect a double negative.

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Monday 4 July 2011

4.7.11 Bravery Awards

Today's newspaper contains the stories of some of the nominees for the Police Bravery Awards.  The few examples given vary in their nature, and it raises a couple of points.  If someone applies to work in a role that is by its very nature likely to involve danger, it does seem quite strange to highlight people who do their job for an award.  I do not begrudge recognition to people who put themselves at risk, but it starts to become a strange world when we are supposed to compare acts of bravery and decide on who deserves a gong.

Stopping a car because the driver was using a mobile phone was clearly a routine thing for a policeman to be doing.  The priority for policing these days is to make sure that most resources are targeted at car drivers, whether to catch them speeding, parking in the wrong place, or doing anything that can lead to a ticket and fine.  Anyway, using a mobile phone is obviously wrong.  The fact that the driver decided to ram the police car putting both vehicles out of action was no doubt shocking, but the policeman gave chase and caught the passenger, using spray CS gas to restrain him.  Now, not to take anything away from the efforts of the copper, I am struggling to see how that deserves nomination for bravery (?)

Still, there are other examples of the police doing things less associated with their actual job specification, and it is actually nice to see that in any event, efforts are made by those employed to do the right thing.  They are of course best placed in most cases to act, because they have been trained to a high level to do the right thing.  In fact, I would say that police officers have a duty to take action in a lot of challenging circumstances; it is part of the job to take some risks and be brave.  In a similar way, courage and bravery are needed to be in the armed services.  Making comparisons between various acts is weird, though, to establish whose efforts were best deserving of a gong.

The other point, though, is how from time to time we read about other really stupid incidents where no action is taken by those charged with protecting the public, or providing an important service.  Are there other awards, not for bravery but for Non Action?  These could include the times when someone is struggling in water and for supposed health and safety reasons, people stand and watch the individual drown.  There are some really stupid approaches taken these days, which demonstrate how those in jobs that are supposed to have some significance and purpose manage to actually avoid the whole reason for their existence by not acting when it comes to the crunch.  That's like being a soldier and then refusing to join in when there's some fighting to be done.

I think that bravery awards are a step too far.  Yes, recognise bravery, but don't make it into a competition, or an annual event.  That actually belittles the genuine efforts of some.  I would also like to see those who have chosen a career/job in public service, often in uniform, promise to do something if the situation demands it, not just quote rule number 32a and loiter without doing anything constructive.

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Sunday 3 July 2011

3.7.11 Men's Final

It was a good match, and for a change, Nadal was slightly less efficient than normal.  The pundits came out with all the usual blurb, and over 4 sets we experienced some good tennis.  The microphone fiasco at the very end proved beyond doubt that the BBC licence fee really needs to go up pretty quickly so there's money in the kitty to sort it out in time for next year.

Some interesting stats have emerged, although not the ones you might expect.  Instead of the aces, double faults, first serves in etc, I have noted some other more interesting points relating to the Men's Final Towel Wiping Championship at Wimbledon.  These included the following:

Dkokovic - Nadal

Banana Eating: 4 - 0
Water Drinking (bottles): 6 - 8
Arse Picking: 1 - 142
Ball Bouncing: 3,122 - 523
Towel Wipes (face): 177 - 263
Towel Wipes (biceps): 9 - 132

Most bounces of the ball, before serving: Djokovic - 32
Most balls inspected before a serve: Djokovic - 5

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Saturday 2 July 2011

2.7.11 Balls, Grunts, Bouncing, Towels & Underwear

Bouncing
Novak Djokovic is adept at playing tennis, and whatever the result of the Wimbledon final, he will be No.1 in the world ranking on Monday.  He will also maintain his top position for ball bouncing.  Today, in his match with Tsonga, his ball bouncing ahead of serving was in good shape.  He was typically taking 15 bounces in his preparations, although this little ritual sometimes included more bounces.  I certainly clocked a 22-bounce lead up to a serve.  This is taking things too far.  In a five set match, he will serve for up to 30 games, and 200 points.  For a split of two thirds first-serve-success and one third needing a second serve,  and at 15 bounces per serve average, then the spectators will be watching someone bounce a ball 4000 times.  That's not entertainment!

Underwear
The game of tennis should feature excitement as players use racquets to hit a ball over the net.  The game is not really enhanced by having to watch players picking underpants away from a sweaty arse.  Rafael Nadal disagrees, of course, and insists on being the one player who has it as an essential part of his game.  No passage of play can be undertaken without the end result being a requirement to adjust his underwear.  He clearly needs some help; perhaps Gok should be called in.

Balls
Unfortunately it is the case that in many walks of life, people push things a bit further than necessary.  In the world of shaving, we have moved from a single blade to multiple blades - I think we are up to five now, with a battery and glide strip.  In tennis, ball boys and girls were once upon a time charged with retrieving balls and dispensing them to speed things up.  A server will require one or two balls to complete the manoeuvre (excluding the occasional net cord affecting things) and so players used to take two balls (although women often took/take one at a time).  These days, things have moved on.  For a while, the convention has been to get the ball boys to supply three, piss about deciding which of the three identical balls is of no use, and then to drop it and tap it away so that it has to be retrieved by the ball boy.  This abuse of the facility is annoying, and is simply a pointless ritual that shows the stupid little mind games that players adopt.  Today, the stakes were raised, when I saw players on more than one occasion raising their expectations.  Four were apparently needed a few times today, to give that extra bit of choice before going for the two that were the most attractive.  Where will it end? 

Towels
Years ago, the change of ends in tennis was a chance for the players to grab a brief rest, have a drink and wipe away a bit of sweat with a towel.  Then things moved on when players started to take a towel with them on their long journeys to each end of the tennis court.  They would leave it at the back of the court, whether on a vacant chair or on the ground.  It meant that in particularly long games, they could have a quick wipe; it was understandably a useful step for times when a game went to the 'deuce' stage many times.  However, today the game is a joke, as players are taking the piss and abusing the ball boys.  It seems it is now necessary for some players to have a wipe after each and every point.  What a pathetic ritual.  A quick 'point of the finger' or 'nod of the head' alerts the ball boy to come running with the towel so the player can wipe nothing from an eyebrow, forehead, mouth or bicep.  Today, Andy Murray and Rafael Nadal were both displaying very well the silly practice that is quite simply annoying and unnecessary for 90% of the time.

Grunts
The grunting at Wimbledon is intolerable.  What's amazing is that the men are expected to run around for hours in matches of up to five sets, yet their grunting is at a lower level than the women, who shriek, grunt and whine in a nauseating manner.  Sharapova will, in tomorrow's final, make a racket while swinging her racquet.  Something needs to be done about this pathetic practice.  Tennis has become an arena for players to display weird behaviours.  OCD is rife.

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