7.10.17 Plastic

I left the kitchen, taking with me the small plastic bin that holds the recyclable plastics.  I emptied it in the large plastic wheelie bin and then went to get a lottery ticket.  I first needed to use the cash point because I had no real money.  The local bank closed down on Friday, as did its cashpoint machine outside, so I was obliged to use the large lump of plastic situated inside the Co-op that serves as an ATM.  I stuck my plastic card in the thing and took out £50.  I got two real noted, and a £10 that is now basically plastic.  I didn't need a plastic basket, as I would be shopping properly later on.  I got a TV Guide and went to the till where I would buy a lottery ticket as well.  I decided to offload the plastic £10 note.  As I got to the till, I noticed on a floor a pair of plastic knitting needles in a plastic wrapper, so put them on the counter.  The assistant suggested they had fallen out of the needlework magazine that was propped up to one side, a magazine that was encased in plastic to (unsuccessfully) hold the wool and needles.  I presented the £10 plastic note and was frustrated to receive in my change a plastic £5 note that was adopting a shape that would not change.  It was folded in a way that suggested a change of chemical structure had fucking occurred.  Pissing fucking plastic.

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17.9.17 Field of Dreams? Asda Nightmares!

Can there be any supermarket worse than ASDA?  This is a rhetorical question because of course there is no establishment that is as annoying or useless.  I suppose to some small degree my views are shaped through having a relatively small store closest to my house.  'Small' is a relative term, because the footprint of this blot on the landscape is rather large - enough to have decimated the green field that was minding its own business before the planners came along and acted like cunts.

"Build it and they will come" is the line from Field Of Dreams, and in similar style, the cunts-in-charge adopted this approach in the belief that shoppers would swarm to the stadium of mayhem.  They were right; from far and wide, people flock to be fucked.  The lies about pricing have spread to thousands of people in a catchment area that denies them any real alternative.  The Cunt-op may well have improved its pricing policy, but you will still be hard pressed to find more than a handful of things you can buy without being truly ripped off.

After just about three years of the green monster having devoured a pristine coastal field and offered us a sweeping social downgrade, there is work underway to add to Asda's assault on the landscape. The "Build it and they will come" line may well apply to shoppers, but the mantra also applies to other retailers.  Like flies around shit, the hangers-on are now mobilised, aided and abetted by the cunts at the council who have decided that more green fields can be decimated.  Why?  Because apparently we are in need of yet another fucking McDonald's and all the accompanying litter.  On the opposite side of the inadequate mini roundabout is a massive shell that will house three or four more retail outlets.  The diggers have dug, the brickies have laid their shit, and the mud has taken over.  From the site office (two shipping containers) the CIC are no doubt happy to look out and be smug. The vandalism is half-way completed.  Soon, the others (a Marston's pub, B&M, Aldi and more) will join in the obscenity.

Asda's own exploits are best described as a corporate con.  There are hundreds of red and white signs shouting "Rollback".  Yes, everywhere I look, I see flagrant disregard for any retail honesty or integrity.  Rather, I see manipulation and lies on most tickets and pricing displays, complementing well the actual products, whose sizes and weights have been tweaked insidiously by manufacturers.  Thus, it is more like "Two rolls forward and one rollback".

I entered the store three weeks ago to a display of Sprite, bring sold at £1 under the 'Rollback' bollocks.  The Cunts In Charge had raised the price from £1 to £1.85 per 2-litre bottle two weeks earlier, for absolutely no reason.  The stock markets had not been jittered into raising world prices for this commodity; there was no scarcity that could have any way suggested a need to introduce an 85% price increase.  Then, two weeks later, I am supposed to be impressed that Asda has put the price back down to a level where I could again buy the fucking stuff instead of boycotting it!

There IS NO ROLLBACK!  Peperami packs fluctuate between £1 and £2.50. Pot of Joy four-packs fluctuate between £1 and £2.40.  Summer Fruits High Juice is up to £1.20 after a year at £1.  Was the 20% hike related to the product's withdrawal for three weeks, and reappearance with a new label design and screw cap?  I hope not because the plastic top is now of a worse design and it is more fiddly to line up the thread than the perfectly functioning previous darker green cap.  Last week, the Hot 'n' Spicy Chicken Breasts went from £1 to £1.50 for no reason.  This is not the only issue with chicken at Asda.

Yesterday, I went to get chicken wings, and some salad.  There were chicken goujons, chicken breasts, chicken legs, chicken thighs, and of course chickens.  Now, I know chickens don't fly, but I believe that anatomically, they still have cunting wings, and Charles Darwin suggested change over thousands of years, not fucking overnight!  Not a cunting wing in the cunting shop!  Not even a bag of them in the freezer.

Two weeks ago I was forced to use the self service area for a box of beer. There were only two normal checkouts in use, both of them oversubscribed. I could not face a long wait for one item, and the days of an manned express checkout for up to 9 items have long since ended.  With trepidation I approached the zone . . . . no fucker to hand in an Asda uniform.  I of course pressed to confirm that I had no need of a bag - as if a fucking twat-of-a-5p-bag would be any good for 20 cans in a box!  I scanned and waited, instantly angry that I was now in the limbo stage of retail.  This is where I want to buy something that I have selected, I have the money and simply wish to proceed . . . BUT . . . I am not allowed to do so because I need 'clearance'.  I stood in limbo, awaiting input.  I had been instructed to do so my the machine, and the voice command that told me what was going on.

"Please wait for assistance; a colleague is on their way".

This was more cunting infuriating than the system that denies purchase of some fucking cans.  How the cunting fuck does a machine have a colleague? The only part-acceptable explanation would be a robot that might assist me further.  The petrol pumps have stickers suggesting that a colleague might be able to assist, so inanimate "colleagues" are apparently working at Asda. More severe was my annoyance at the abuse of the English language.  A colleague . . THEIR way . .  fucking disgraceful!

A young chap appeared and with some sort of weird flourish, attended to the machine, allowing me to spend fucking money.  "There you go," he said, as though he had achieved something in life.  I decided not to thank him for his divine intervention; that would mean Asda inconveniencing me so that I could then be grateful for the inconvenience being removed.  "Bring back the CONVENIENCE" I say . . . . . fuck the Rollback Bollocks.

A few days later I had shopping that was in a trolley, and I spied a checkout with just one person 'on the belt' (not literally).  I loaded my stuff behind the remaining items of the customer in front, but I soon regretted this.  There was an issue with an item of clothing.  The wait for an "override" as excruciating. Finally, a waddling cunt in a "Happy To Help" sleeveless yellow vest arrived, jangling like a Prisoner Cell Block H guard, unhappy as fuck to deal with 'scan-gate'. Without any checks, she stuck a key in the till and tapped a few numbers, muttered something, and prepared to fuck off.  I toyed with the idea of ramming the unwanted hanger up the arse of the twat with the keys (or should that be up the twat of the arse with the keys?).  The ignorance was astounding, and she was in a world of her own.  What is the point of giving a twat at the far end of the store a key, and then having her eventually perform an override without any checks?  The checkout woman may as well keep the cunting key in her own pocket!

Field of Dreams?  No, more like Normal Asda Nightmares next to a Field of Mud.

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30.7.17 ITV Only 3.25% New Content

A week ago I was pissed off with ITV, which had decided that prime time Saturday viewing was best catered for with a dollop of shite lasting 3 hours and 15 minutes.  The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey put paid to any viewing on that channel for the whole fucking evening, and it is a sad state of affairs when ITV struggles to find something to do when it has no X-Factor, BGT or The Voice to fill space.  I was hoping for some progress for this weekend and I can report that the cunts in charge have excelled themselves once more.

Yesterday, the CIC opted for The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug,coming in at a meagre three cunting hours!  Disgraceful scheduling.  Things could not get worse, could they?  Well yes, actually.

I have looked at today's offerings on ITV and have discovered the CIC are taking the cunting piss. Consider the full day's content, and you will see an horrendous abdication of any sense of responsibility for providing entertainment.

09.25 Judge Rinder (repeat)
10.20 Long Lost Family (repeat)
11.20 Love Your Garden (repeat)
12.25 James Martin's French Adventure (repeat)
12.55 Rebound (repeat)
13.55 Tipping Point (repeat)
14.55 Bear Grylls Survival School
15.25 A View To A Kill (repeat)
18.30 Diana, Our Mother: Her Life And Legacy (repeat)
20:00 Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix (repeat)
22.50 Judge Rinder's Crime Stories (repeat)
11.50 Take Me Out (repeat)

I have omitted from the above the news and weather input, as ITV has not yet sunk so low as to schedule repeats of the news (albeit that if you watch every news bulletin you'll go mad with the inherent repeated shite).  So the ONLY cunting thing on TV today that is not a repeat is Bear Grylls Survival School.  30 fucking minutes of tips that might help you survive the repeats on ITV and no go cunting crazy!

15 hours and 25 minutes between the start of the first programme and the end of the last.  30 minutes of actual new content means a paltry . . . . .

3.25 per cent !

Unbelievable, except for the fact that it is completely true.  However, ITV is littered with adverts and trailers, and this included the before, during and after, in relation to the one new programme.  The reality is that whilst the schedule devotes 30 minutes to the programme, it only actually airs for 24 minutes . . . .  so I can argue that the true percentage for new content is actually

2.6 per cent !

Next week, watch out for Harry Potter and The Meeting With The Hobbit: The Desolation Of Life, A Smorgasbord And The Prisoner Of Azerbaijan - Part 18 (7 hours and 45 minutes)

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22.7.17 Saturday Night TV - WTF?

What the cunting fuck is going on?  Surely the stations between them have got enough spunk to summon up a Saturday offering that's worth the bother! There is what might generously be described as a 'lull' in the entertainment level, but what would be more accurately described as a cunting great chasm.

BBC1 has decided to rollover and die, giving licence fee payers an audio nightmare by showing Pitch Battle that swallows up one hour and thirty-five minutes of prime time television, from 7.25pm.  This is the sixth of six such scheduling outrages, and I've avoided them all.  This is not least because the host is Mel Gridlock/Giedroyc/Guidecock/Ging Gang Goolie.

In desperation, I looked at the options on ITV and was cuntin affronted by the ridiculous three-and-a-quarter hours block-booked by The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey.  This is taking the piss, ITV!

Ignoring the BBC2 golf coverage, I hoped for something from Channel 4. Sadly I was left furious by Fast & Furious 6 which is simply unnecessary, well all eight are - or is it up to nine now?  150 minutes with adverts!

Channel 5 is always shockingly shite, and with Big Brother, some other celebrity nonsense and a repeat of some allegedly 'shocking moments' (20 of them) in the evening schedule. it was of course no surprise for me to find the offering shockingly shite.

In some sort of vague hope that I might stumble upon something watchable on the other minor channels, I turned the page.  ITV2 was lining up nearly three hours of Spiderman on his 13,240th repeat.  ITV3 executives at a recent meeting concluded that we'd like to see Mamma Mia again - wrongly of course.  ITV managed a clean sweep of utter shit and outrageous piss-taking with its last effort - the ITV4 listing for Police Academy 2: Their First Assignment.  This has been aired permanently since the dawn of time, well, since it was made in fucking 1985.  Worse, the follow-on film (Passenger 57 with Wesley Snipes) dates to 1992 and at 11.40pm, Death Wish 3 (from 1985) kills off any remaining viewers.

Dave thinks Demolition Man (Stallone) from 1993 is worthy of relentless attention, while E4 management is on drugs (speed?) because at 9.00pm we have Speed from 1994.

True Entertainment is a channel so poorly named that I think Trading Standards ought to be involved in a review.  Three films (all gaining two stars) swamp Saturday night viewing, and take us back to the nineties in every case.  The Stranger Beside Me, Loving Evangeline and Between Love and Hate.  Honestly, have you heard of any of them?

Old films from the nineties prevail elsewhere - An American Werewolf In Paris on the Horror channel, and on the Sony Movie Channel, First Knight with Richard Gere and Sean Connery fucking about on horseback.  On Film4, they've made it to the eighties (just, 1980) with Darkman, "starring" Liam Neeson.  This is one of the worst films of all time!

Dire indeed.

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22.7.17 Take Me Out - Dire Indeed

Is this the most horrendous 'show' made by ITV?  Well, it's got to be one of the front runners.

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14.6.17 Stage Musicals

DEFINITION:

People who can't really sing, singing songs that aren't really songs, about stuff no one gives a shit about.

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11.6.17 Three Women Fuck-up

It is clear for all to see that the fuck-ups in recent weeks have seen the UK inflect self-harm at a phenomenal level.  The election result was a surprise to the arrogant Mrs May, and most Tories.  The view was (no doubt) that she could march ahead and get a massive majority, and that she had the leeway and freedom to piss off pensioners, the disabled and the vulnerable along the way. That level of arrogance had to be punished - and it was.  Theresa May, useless twat, fucked it big time.  She is a woman who fucked things big time.

On the other side of the political divide, Jeremy Corbyn, a deluded wreck of a person, has managed to create a manifesto that was dreamland in economic terms, but was a tactical masterstroke.  The young were bribed, and the slogan of 'for the many, not the few' was equally well considered.  JC winning a majority would have been a disaster for the UK - and yet there is some weird romantic view being peddled that he was the real winner, and but for a couple of thousand well-placed votes, would have taken office as PM and saved the day.  Sorry, but this is a farcical notion.

The thing that saved the UK from a Corbyn victory was perhaps his belligerence regarding the retention of the dubious services of Diane Abbott. His decision to keep her on board displayed a definite error of judgement to match many of his other poor decisions over the years, to support all manner of dangerous and awful people.  Make no mistake, the diabolical human that is Diane Abbott brought nothing but damage to the Labour Party.  She single-handedly  managed to reduce the Labour vote by enough to keep the Tories in power.  So, she is the second woman who fucked things big time.

The third in the trio of fuck-ups is the Scottish Faux Pas.  Yes, if it were not for Nicola Sturgeon's obsession with touting the independence issue and another referendum in Scotland, then there is absolutely no doubt that the Tories would not have gained 12 seats in Scotland.  Tories will be glad of Nicola's obsession, while the SNP and Labour will be frustrated at that approach.  The whole Scottish Independence palaver has ensured that the Tories have the chance to create a majority if the DUP plays ball.  That option should not be open to the Conservatives at all, but it is, because of |Nicola Sturgeon, who is the third woman who fucked things big time.

The irony here is that Arlene Foster fucked up big time a while ago, with the fuel scheme in Northern Ireland, and the bill that topped half a billion pounds.  On her watch, there was a fuck-up.  Now, as the Tories try to step the nightmare of a Labour administration, she is the woman who fucked up, but may now be a desperate solution for May, one of the trio of women who fucked up!

This country is FUCKED - Never has FUBAR been more appropriately ascribed to the situation.  In the coming weeks, we are as a nation expected to make a case to the EU negotiators for some recognition as an economy that is worth keeping links with.  Having dropped from 5th to 6th, the UK is now deciding it should cut its foot off before engaging in pointless discussions that will see the alleged "will of the people" carried out.  I say this with a tinge of regret, not least because the referendum vote on the EU issue one year ago was the most flawed proposition put before voters that could have been conceived.  Sadly, not enough younger voters bothered back in June 2016 - perhaps if they had rallied round to the levels that Corbyn seems to invigorate, the outcome would have been rather better.

I have stolen the above from a friend (thank you YH) because it demonstrates the real situation.  The 'young' may well applaud JC, but if we had enthused them enough at an earlier stage, they'd not be facing a departure from the EU and a waiting pile of grief.  The younger voters will have to suffer the longest. They are not aware of the consequences that the EU referendum outcome will have, nor are they suitably aware of the pain that a Labour administration under Corby would mean for the economy, or the fortunes of the United Kingdom.  It is perhaps worth drawing a parallel - the £350 million per week that was touted as a potential contribution to the NHS if the UK left the EU was a joke; the figure was £160 million, and that level of cash benefit is irrelevant if the country loses many billions in terms of economic fortune because of a silly outcome.  It's like getting a pay rise of £1 per hour, but having your mortgage increased by £50,000 or your rent upped by £100 per week.

The UK is a joke, and we will spiral yet further before we hit rock bottom. Theresa May was a poor, poor representative of the Conservatives, and they are all now paying the price.  Corbyn ran a good campaign, aided and abetted by the BBC and its usual bias towards the leftism that it covets and strokes. Sturgeon fucked it as badly as May.  The Scottish Conservatives did well, and saved the skin of the blues in this election.  Abbott was (as ever) a disaster.

The desperate time that are now in full swing will see instability, delusion from the left, delusion from the right, and despair from the masses who have engaged politically at great levels for one, and yet will be frustrated.  It is the right of the Tories to limp on, and this is probably the best thing to do in the circumstances.  If Cameron had not been o keen to call the vote on Brexit, then his fuck-up would not now linger as a main issue in tactics being considered by the Tories.  The Brexit talks are colouring things in a way that the UK General Election could have done without.

Stopping a Labour win was essential.  Bloodying May's nose was essential. Confirming the UKIP irrelevance was essential.  Telling Sturgeon to shut up about independence was essential.  It is now essential that the UK gives proper consideration to Brexit and the negotiations.  It is also essential that instead of gaining a pathetic and flawed Labour administration, the younger voters are rewarded with a Brexit that is sensible and not so cunting fucking hard that May could sharpen a tooth on it!

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