21.8.2020 The Top Of Your Lungs?

"Singing along at the top of your lungs" said the woman on the advert for the V Festival, sponsored by Virgin Media.  I understand singing at the top of my voice, but I am struggling to comprehend the concept of the top of my lungs being relevant.

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18.8.20 Thanks, Martha

On Radio 4 this morning, Martha Kearney was in discussion with a guest and in commenting on the size of something, had to introduce an element of scale.

"So about half the size of an A5 sheet then" was her utterance.  That is an A6 sheet, Martha; the paper sizes follow a logic, which is more than your own approach.  Why pick A5 and then halve it?

Thanks.

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13.8.20 How Not To Buy A Cunting Oven

The simple comment/answer to this is.............. try to buy from Currys PC World.

One might be forgiven for thinking this large company can get its act together sufficiently well to see a fucking oven.  Alas, I could not succeed in this task, and I was forced to abandon the purchase of a fan-assisted oven.  I 'fannied about' for a while on laptop and phone, trying to gain some input that might be mildly useful.

My existing inbuilt oven has ceased working, and as I bought it from CPCW I thought I'd get the same one.  Pleasantly surprised to find it available, in stock and at the same price, I was all for clicking and paying and collecting tomorrow - as presented to me as the option (delivery not available).  My roast pork dinner tomorrow was assured.

Well, my roast dinner is definitely assured, thanks to Argos/Sainsbury's, and no thanks to CPCW. The heading for this post might equally be written as "How To Not Buy An Oven" as long as you can tolerate a split infinitive; I believe it is justified insofar as "Not Buy" is acting as the verb.  Both interpretations/statements lead to the same thing - no cuntin oven.

I thought I would call the store, but the main number given was not for the store, but a generic message service.  A second number yielded the same fucking thing.  I tried to buy over the phone, pressing option fuck-knows-what-number, and it directed me back to the website.

At my laptop, I thought I'd try Webchat.  This served to rile me further, with a 'Virtual' assistant and this was not virtually anything but useless.  It could not cope with a question at all.  A generic picture of an operator with CUNT tattooed on his/her forehead would have been apt.  Whoever programmed this facility must have had an IQ of about fifty.

Back to the website, and a search for any fucking availability of the oven.

I put in a postcode and store, and the message appeared about nothing available in the nine nearest stores.  I clicked for a further afield search, and after 18, 27 and then 36 stores, fuck all.  So it is cunting out of stock then!  I know this because I entered Birmingham and other locations, and established no availability.  The brand of the intended purchase was Logik.  There was no logic to this fucking online system for buying anything.

Sort yourselves out, you people in charge of CPCW!

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12.8.20 Curly Wurly Concerns

Something is going on at Cadbury.  Tampering has begun, after many years of stability in Curly Wurly world.  Until now, the standard until of measurement has been 26g.  That's right, 26g has been the weight of a Curly Wurly for as long as I can remember.  I appreciate this is hardly a nice round number, but that aside, the stability was something I was able to appreciate.

Multi-packs have been sold for many years; five in a packet, commonly available at £1.25 or, when on offer, £1.00.  Yesterday in Asda, I was flabbergasted after clocking the new multi-pack, which announced it contained six bars.

I was pleased that there were now 6, for one pound, but was immediately suspicious, expecting there to be foul play involved.  There had to be a catch, so I checked the weights, convinced that there would be some tampering, to reduce the size/weight of the sacred Curly Wurly.  I was correct; no longer was 26g the standard - instead they were 21.5g each.

On what cunting planet is 21.5g a sensible portion size?  Who the cunting fuck at Cadbury decided that it was time, arbitrarily, to piss about with a Curly Wurly?  The CIC* are clearly bored as fuck and thought they would mix it up a bit.

I actually think this is little more than phase one of a plan to fuck the consumer, as ever.  The 5-pack of 26g CWs totalled 130g, and this reconfiguration reduces the weight by a single gramme.  It does nothing to reduce the plastic wrapping, though, as one extra wrapper is now having to be disposed of.

It is only a matter of time before the 6-pack reverts to a 5-pack and the CIC have wangled a net 22.5g reduction in goods for no reduction in price.  That would mean a 17.3% reduction in weight for the same sale price, or an effective 20.9% increase in price.  This is my prediction - let's see how long it takes to come true.

* Cunts In Charge

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10.2.20 Awful Utterances

I have collected some more examples of pathetic English, grammar and fuckwittery.  Yes, that last word is made up, but considering what so many cunts get away with, I feel I have the right to create a decent way of referring to the culprits.

At this present in time - Dione Dublin

MI5 have published its own version .... Evan Davis R4

It's interesting to note the words choosed - John Sopel

You have to execute accurately - Rugby pundit

When they got the ball they really utilised it - Pundit Kathy (Women's Rugby)

In and around his feet - Alan Shearer (in his feet ??)

In and around the keeper - Martin Keown (in the keeper ??)

You deserve to be in the later half of this competition - Ashley Banjo (meaning latter)

Temperatures still mild - BBC weather .... weather can be mild, but not temperatures

With the wind direction coming from the North East - Louise Lear (the wind comes from the North East, not the wind direction, Louise)

With a cold wind sinking its way in - Lucy Verasamy

The odd bit or piece of rain - BBC1 weather

The costs of wages and rents are cheaper - total claptrap

One of these have got to get it - Stephen Mulhern

The garden is entering into the house - Monty Don

Game over, to all extents and purposes - Chris Sculley (meaning "intents")

Cematoriums - John Irvine ITV News, utterly failing to say "crematoria"

Ausvitch - John Irvine, twice unable to pronounce where he was on ITV News - WTF?

Swindon have retook the lead - Sohail Sahi on BBC1 Final Score

It's very difficult when a child kills themselves - unattributed

Ainsley Harriott's Special Menu

It takes between 10 and 15 years for a tree to bear their fruit

I'm gonna season that up

Just sauteing those off

They're cooking down beautifully

As soon as that starts to melt down (butter in a pan)

It's going to reduce down - let that bubble down

You can see that's reduced right down now

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25.7.20 A Place In The Sun - Pointless Prats

The usual formulaic approach was presented today, with two people looking for a place in Oliva in Spain.  Their budget was £80,000.  We plodded through the dissatisfaction shared during the viewings of four properties, at which point to bloke decides he is not going to get what he wants at that price, and suddenly the budget becomes £100,000.  So for the final property, the chances of getting them what they wanted were increased nicely.  Why on earth the budget was not £100k in the first place I don't know.  Anyway, it mattered not, because the fifth and final property was seemingly of great interest.  In fact, it was the only one which brought some smiles, and at the review chat afterwards, I learned that they were going to put in an offer.  This was a town house, less than five minutes walk from the central square, with three bedrooms, two living rooms, two decent bathrooms and a massive roof terrace with great views, including the town rooftops and the church.

This pair had taken advantage of the Channel 4 input, to try and help them find something to meet their brief, and after the budget adjustment, this was completely achieved.  So well done, A Place In The Sun.

Oh dear.  I had not warmed to the bloke at all, and should have known that it was all a fucking cunting waste of everyone's time.  I put this down to him, simply because she would be guided by whatever he said - this stood out a mile.  Anyway, having declined four properties, and agreeing to add £20k to the budget, the offer for this perfect match was............... £80,000.  This was the fucking budget they started with!  What was the cunting point of adding £20k and then taking the piss out of everyone - the property owners, Channel 4 and the viewers?

The owners rejected the offer and said the lowest they would accept is £87,000.  That is reasonable, I'd say.  However, it seems that the two perfectly good bathrooms were not to taste and would apparently need replacing, and there were some railings he wanted on the roof terrace (why, I don't fucking know) and there was a 'bit of decorating to do'.  I am telling you, there was fuck all needed and the property was fine all round.  So what response was there to the seller's suggested price?  A revised, FINAL offer of £82,000.  It was rejected, and I had willed the seller to reject these complete prats.

What bollocks!  Stay at fucking home, people, if you are on a time-wasting visit to Spain with no intention of buying if the perfect fit property is found, well within your cunting budget!

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13.5.20 Boris Isn't Winston

Not Winston

Yes, it has made its way
Here, and it's here to stay
The horrid ministrations are
Unwelcome and unkind
So, with a heavy heart
Tired, scared and pulled apart
I see the door that stands ajar
but not what sits behind.

Now, as we all review
Life, what are we to do?
The losses all around us are
So frightening and real
Stay, home and sit it out
Hold, tight as all about
Are wishing on a lucky star
Not sure of what to feel.

Cough, yes my throat is dry
Aches, some, I can't deny
And yes my chest is second best
With breathing not too great
Peace, stolen, given wings
Mind, it's on many things
I'm twisted and so much obsessed
My thinking isn't straight.

Or, is it on the mark?
Clear, in a world so dark?
Is holding on while so distressed
A pointless bitter sweet?
Warm, bodies turning cold
Lies, polished, kissed and told
A population unimpressed
With bluster and deceit.

We, see the UK fail
Lies, on a massive scale
A travesty, incompetence
And lives, so many lost
Why, are we so misled?
Spin, Tory blue not red
Delivered with indifference
To awful human cost.

Clap, for the NHS
Mad, Boris claims success
While giving no acknowledgements
That he is so to blame
Time, squandered at the start
Now, heartbreaks of the chart
Despite outrageous negligence
There is no Tory shame.

Gove, Sunak, Raab, Patel
News, briefings with a smell
Of Cummings and a dirty hand
And government conceit
Matt, Hancock shows his face
Proves, he's a waste of space
And no one seems to understand
the level of deceit.

Now, as the lock-down bites
Some, seem to think their rights
Allow them all to make a stand
And party in the street
Still, short of PPE
Staff, plead and all agree
That needless going out is banned
And yet they fear defeat.

Why, is the UK fucked?
So, many questions ducked
The testing's been an utter farce
Incompetence prevails
Now, as the virus spreads
World, leaders shake their heads
At Britain on its stupid arse
A coffin wanting nails.

Jobs, gone or on the line
Stress, levels won't decline
Who loses most? The working class
The people poorly paid
More deaths than wildest fears
Clear lies that no one hears
Integrity is so, so sparse
As Tory claims are made.

Still, Brexit rumbles on
Deal? Hope is almost gone
The UK's utter madness seems
Like suicide to me
Hell, bent on further harm
No, hint of any qualm
Without a care the PM schemes
To leave us all at sea.

Now, on the tenth of May
Proof, sense is thrown away
As Boris shares deluded dreams
Revealing all his flaws
Still, risks at every turn
Yet, with no true concern
He beckons grief and further screams
While science he ignores.

Yes, we are in a mess
No, Boris won't confess
To bringing Britain to its knees
Not leading from the front
Why, does he think he's great?
Please, someone, tell him straight
He isn't Winston Churchill, he's
A sneaky, lying cunt.


10th May 2020 ***