30.12.12 News This Week

Bentley

On Christmas Eve it was reported that the luxury car maker Bentley had laid off its vicar just before Christmas - as he might upset non-Christian workers.  After serving in the position for 10 years, Rev Francis Cooke was axed on the basis that the company needed to take a multi-faith outlook.  Staff are campaigning to reinstate him.  This is a perfect example of the skewed fucking country that we live in now, and the pathetic 'decision making' that goes on among idiots in positions to do more damage than good.

Ulrika Jonsson

She recently came out with a statement regarding Nigella Lawson in her column, as follows:

"Hard to believe, but Nigella's latest Italian cookbook is apparently not selling like hot biscotti.  I have to admit finding her stunning to watch but impossibly irritating."

I have to disagree with Ulrika on one of those two counts; she's NOT stunning to watch (and the creepy smug grinning does nothing to help her cause).

Bestsellers

A scan of the paperbacks on the shelves of Asda revealed a pathetic twist in the make-up of the books on sale.  It seems that "Fifty Shades of Grey" has encouraged numerous copycat books, and there were, on display alongside the aforementioned, no less than nine books all seemingly doing the same sort of job (blow, hand ?) for the previously ill-informed but rampant nymphomaniacs, studs and giggling aunts who have now been given a green light to read this 'soft porn that must be okay because it's in Asda'.  Are we so literarily desperate that we need this tosh to fill shelves?  I suppose it makes a slight change from the Knights Templar stuff and codes, and the unending supply of stories about child abuse, with each story behind the cover of a crying child trying to outdo the one before.

The Sun Bizarre Awards

These are so well-named, because 'bizarre' is certainly the case.  The Bizarre Man of the Year is apparently Robbie Williams.  Tragic.  The Bizarre Comedian of the Year is unbelievably Jack Whitehall.  He's simply not funny.  These are indeed bizarre awards.

The Sun

Further disappointment regarding The Sun newspaper came on Boxing Day, with an edition comprising 80 pages, of which the space equivalent of 32 were adverts!  WTF?  40% of a national newspaper given over to adverts?  Criminal.

Disgusting Display of the Week

This was the awful ranting and raving of one Alex Ferguson, the pompous and arrogant manager of Manchester United.  His display on the touchline during the match with Newcastle was woefully short of acceptable, let alone any sort of example to set to the rest of the football world.  Who does he think he is?  The referee should have sent him to the stands, no question.  Perhaps, though, the funniest element of his performance was that during his rant at the 4th official, the camera caught him losing his chewing gum.  Yes, that horrendous and monotonous jaw movement (chewing AND talking) was interrupted when in his keenness to moan, he forgot to retain control of the gum, and it popped out and fell to the grass. 

Give it a year or two, and his poor gum control might be superseded by awful dribbling, as he considers retirement (oh please!).

Demba Ba

It seems that the £7.5million 'get out' clause in Ba's contract with Newcastle allows him to take £2.5million of it for himself.  If that's so, then quite clearly he's going to want to leave the club in January because he'll get an instant windfall, and his new club will pay get a good player for a reasonable price in today's market.  Whoever siggested this clause in the contract was: (a) An idiot - if working for Newcastle Utd, (b) A good negotiator u if an agent doing deals, or (c) A clever sod - if called Demba Ba.

Drinks Tray

Carrying four drinks on a tray is apparently an act that now requires Health & Safety training.  At a restaurant in Southampton, a customer was barred from carrying the tray himself just a few yards to his table.  Madness, as ever, associated with H&S matters. 

Strictly Grammatical

At last Strictly Come Dancing has ended, proper version and celebrity version.  So, hopefully I will not have to endure hearing "Strickly" from thickos for at least eight or nine months.  Still, even that annoyance was trumped big time yesterday, when a commentator was reporting for Final Score.  He decided to use the term Annus Horribilis, thinking that Latin would show him to be educated and clever.  A shame then that he pronounced it so that it rhymed perfectly with 'fabulous', as though spelt 'Horribulous'.  Thick twat.

Celebrity Mastermind

The qualification for participation seems to be that the majority of the population has to mutter, upon seeing the contender in the chair, "Who the fuck's that?"  As for the questions, they are embarrassingly easy.  The general knowledge questions are designed to ensure that everyone gets a reasonable score.  As for awarding a trophy to the winner of each contest (between just four people), totally laughable.  On the last programme I saw, I know that the woman whose specialist subject was Harry Potter, my daughter in law would have got them all right; and, on the winner's general knowledge round, even I got all bar two correct.  Dumbing down is everywhere.

Superstars

On Saturday, it made a change to see Superstars, after a very long absence from our screens.  Sadly, this was not an enthralling contest and there was little of note about the whole thing, other than being good at one sport does NOT mean you are good at other things.  I have learned one thing, though, from this pointless programme.

Denise Lewis can talk complete drivel, and would win a Gold should 'Drivel Talking & Inanity' ever become an Olympic sport.

Big Fat Quiz of the Year

I have a sneak preview for you of one of the questions that might feature in tomorrow night's programme, to round off 2012.

Which of the following is a self-serving freeloader (allegedly) who has been given an award in the New Year's Honours List for some unfathomable (or legitimate) reason, and which one rides a bike?

Cherie Blaire CBE
Sir Bradley Wiggins

...

30.12.12 The Art of Goalkeeping

Catching the Cunt

Once upon a time, many years ago, there was an expectation that with the a goalkeeper being the only player in a football team allowed to handle the ball, he might (on a fairly regular basis, while preventing the ball going into his net) catch the fucking thing!  Alas, this approach died out in the late twentieth century.  Only in archive footage can one now see proper goalkeeping, by the likes of the great Pat Jennings or Bob Wilson.  Pat 'The Cat' Jennings was perhaps in the top three goalkeepers of all time who played in the top flight [Division One/Premiership] in this country. 

In days gone by, goalkeepers were expected to catch the ball whenever possible; it was thier prime objective, and obviously meant that whether a goal was saved or not in the process, possession was retained.  Nowadays, the complete opposite is true.  The ball is to be feared, and pushed away at every opportunity.  Keepers are now allowed to earn their money and claim glory by spectacularly tipping balls over the crossbar or to the side of either post.  Sometimes this is achieved with a follow-on roll, or an acrobatic 'ninja' display.  Sometimes keepers choose to reach more awkwardly with the arm/hand that's furthest away from the ball (?) which either adds to the spectacle, or means a failed attempt at saving.  One of the many consequences of the non-catching is that more corners are conceded.  This adds to the pressure on defenders and further tests the keeper.  A catch is a 100% save.  A tip away is a temporary save.

I have lost count of the goals needlessly conceded by teams because the goalkeeper chose to pat the ball away rather than catch the cunt.  How on earth can it be preferable to push the ball into the path of an oncoming attacker rather than try to catch it?  When I was eleven years old, I played in goal, and was pleased as punch when one day, I was luckey enough to get a pair of goalie's gloves as a present.  They were red and white, and were covered in minute suckers.  These aided grip, and were designed to encourage me to hold on to the ball for all the reasons mentioned.  Is it the case that goves nowadays have a coating of fucking Flubber?  If so, I can understand the misguided view that it might be worth trying to deflect and pat at the ball.  However - I know this not to be the case.  Instead, the keepers of today are obsessed with a couple of things: first, looking good and getting applause for a magnificent save which allows them to feel pleased with themselves for doing something good; second, not risking a howler by failing to catch the ball and taking full blame.  In effect, they think it's better to reach and make a valiant effort to deflect the ball or make an initial save (and reduce any 'fault' should the ball still go in the net) than to try and catch the thing and then have to accept 100% of the blame if they drop it.

The spinelessness has crept into the role bit by bit, and the establishment has allowed goalkeepers to adopt this approach.  These heroes are often nothing of the sort.  Yes, there are of course hundreds of excellent saves made that could only be reached with tips of fingers, and yes, there is indeed a time when punching the ball away is the right thing to do.  However, the percentage of saves now made where the ball is caught is so very low compared with bygone days.  Keepers are not now expected to do this - it's a bonus if anything is fucking caught.

Fucking Trigonometry

A long time ago, it was deemed sensible to "narrow the angle" and this guideline for goalies was, in its most basic form, a sound principle.  However, it was never an edict that HAD to be followed, and there were always circumstances where this was not the right course of action.  The prevalence and frequency of such circumstances in the modern game is much greater than in past times.  Attackers are under pressure to score, and are often greedy as well.  Depending on their skill levels, it may or may not be wise for a keeper to advance.  Some players are hopeless and are intimidated by a keeper rushing towards them.  We've all seen hurried shots, scuffed attempts on goal, and panic.  We have all, though, seen attackers sidestep a keeper who's committed himself far too early, or seen a simple chip leading to a goal.  In fact, keepers seem to "go to ground" just as often as they "make themselves big". 

There are so many examples of a keeper conceding a goal, and the replay showing so clearly that if he'd not come running off his line (or out of his box) like a banshee, then a goal would not have been scored.  Flinging your body desperately in any direction is not good goalkeeping, and it's lame to assume no one will blame you afterwards because you were alone in trying to prevent a goal.  Keepers should be better!

The singlemost unnecessary action of a keeper is to "come out" when the defenders have yet to relinquish all hopes of either preventing a shot or intimidating an attacker during the shooting process.  Again, there are too many instances of keepers not leaving a defender (or defenders) to continue in his (or their) efforts before storming out of the goal mouth.  There seems to be a weird attraction for goalies to come off their lines and find a ball goes over them or around them.  Choosing where to stand is a key component of good goalkeeping.  Running to get into the wrong position prematurely is sadly a common occurrence.

Penalty Kicks

I suggest that a third of all penalties should be saved - minimum.  Let's consider the options for a penalty taker.  1 - Kick the ball to the left.  2 - Kick the ball to the right.  3 - Kick the ball down the middle.  Mathematically, then, there's perhaps a one in three chance of a save, so that would endorse my claim.  One could argue that a kick from just 12 yards towards a goal that is 8 yards wide is likely to result in a beaten goalkeeper for more than 66% of the time.  I disagree.  For a start, a keeper standing centrally with his arms outstretched will mean the space offered to the kicker is just three yards between the keeper's fingers and the inside of the post, on each side.  Let's be generous and say that a 50/50 chance regarding the left and right options is reduced further by allowing the central line to take up a full third option.  So, despite the keeper not having to move at all to effect a save, we need to account for his suicidal tendancies and the need to fling himself out of the way so the ball can enter the goal via his position during the run-up.  Perhaps the keepers are desperate to maximise their chance of a glorious save by assuming the kicker will aim for a spot just inside the post, which means a kick of 14yds and 1ft rather than the central line distance of 12 yards.  The extra distance for the ball to travel (seven feet) means a chance of moving across in time.  This doesn't work out in practice, because the wild dive left or right takes no account of ball height, curl or power, let alone consideration of a chip, or a kick to either the other side or down the middle.

So, it is best for keepers to consider the kicker, the conditions, the possible pressure on the kicker (because it's never really on the keeper) and to avoid moving too early.  The kicker has also to avoid slipping while kicking, putting the ball the wrong side of the post, or over the crossbar, or hitting any of the woodwork.  All in all, I would expect a penalty taker to have no more than a 2/3 chance of getting a goal.  Sadly, keepers adopt the wrong approach far too often, and the percentage where a goal is scored is higher.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

At set pieces, too many keepers make poor choices.  Decision making is generally poor, leading to futile attempts to reach a ball crossed into the box, or pointless presence on the line when a ball could have been plucked from the air before a striker got to it.  In the old days, the keeper commanded total authority and total respect from defenders.  The confidence gained by defenders through having a strong keeper was massively important, and it was demoralising for attackers to deal with a keeper who owned the goal area.  These days, there are fewer expectations on keepers, and they ponce about, trying to look good and make saves seem better than they in fact are.  If some attention was ever paid to proper positioning, they might find they could catch the ball rather more often.

The Wall

It is the goalkeeper's responsibility to decide on whether to have a wall, how many players need to be in it, and where it ought to be positioned.  In the modern game, there is less need for there to be a wall, especially when the attacking side has a free kick that's a fair way outside the box.  Far too often, the goalkeeper sees the ball fly past after it has risen over the wall and dipped below the bar.  Instead of blocking one side of the goal, leaving the other to be covered by the keeper, the wall means the keeper concentrates on the side which is not relevant.  These days, footballers are able to do more things with a ball, and it's flawed thinking to assume a wall will stop the ball going that way. 

There are too many players used in walls, and they are often not keen to get in the way of the fucking ball!  They duck, twist, sidestep or even jump, and so many goals are scored through the complete ineffectiveness of players lining up to supposedly 'get in the way'.  In fact, there are as many deflections that lead to a goal as there are complete blocks by someone in the wall.  Commonly, it's the case that a goal only came about because of a deflection, and that a keeper with full sight of the ball and the kicker's run up would have been better able to effect a save!

Everyone has lost the plot, and these days the decision making by teams and coaches regarding the approaches of goalkeepers is simply poor.  I have generalised a lot, and there are of course many great saves made, and many keepers who are far better than others.  Nevertheless, every week I see Premiership goalkeepers who fail to catch the ball - in fact worse than that, don't even try to catch the ball - and make decisions that are misguided.  They do not always insist on a man on each post, they position themselves poorly, fail to command, and generally hope to look good without taking blame. 

The worst, though, in all of this, is the fear of trying to catch the ball.

...

29.12.12 International Viewers

At the beginning of the year, I posted a list of countries from where people were, and still are, viewing this Blog site, and was pleased with the spread.  I updated the list in April, and so I am overdue an update.  Despite the diminishing list of potential additions, more countries have joined in, and I do stick get a buzz when I see a new one pop up.

Thanks to viewers from various countries around the world.  The countries which make up the top ten for viewing are:

1   United Kingdom
2   United States
3   Russia
4   Germany
5   France
6   Australia
7   Singapore
8   Netherlands
9   India
10 Spain

Other interest has come from (in no particular order):

Canada
Poland
Italy
Denmark
Sweden
Switzerland
Thailand
Croatia
Bulgaria
Japan
Mexico
Iraq
Colombia
China
South Africa
Philippines
Latvia
Ireland
Serbia
Greece
Ukraine
Egypt
Taiwan
Bosnia and Herzegovina
South Korea
Brazil
Hong Kong
Trinidad & Tobago
Malaysia
Venezuela
Indonesia
Romania
Vietnam
Lebanon
Isle of Man
Lithuania
Georgia
Moldova
Nigeria
Slovakia
Gabon

New countries since April:

Saudi Arabia
United Arab Emirates
Bangladesh
Cyprus
Turkey
Hungary
Belgium
Chile
Kenya
Argentina
Indonesia
Slovenia
Morocco
Estonia
Finland
Uruguay
Greece
Pakistan
Peru
Guernsey
Jordan
Azerbaijan
Macau
Portugal
Czech Republic
Myanmar
Mongolia
Norway
Jamaica
Ethiopia
Belarus
Nepal
Cambodia
Israel
Malawi
Nicaragua

...

27.12.12 Call of Duty

It says so much about society - or at least the people round my way.  Initially I wondered whether there was some intended sarcasm on the part of the wearer, but on reflection, decided there was simply an ignorance that allowed Junior and I to marvel at the irony of the situation.

Outside the kitchen window late in the morning on Christmas Day, outside the church opposite, we saw a young chap who'd emerged from the gloom and the terror.  This was not the gloom and the terror of the game 'Call of Duty' of course, but the gloom and the terror associated with an hour sitting in a pew rather than a gaming chair.  This chap had come out of the church, unscathed physically but no doubt damaged (more than he already was) mentally by the water torture [or is it only Catholic priests who chuck water over you with a strange handheld device?].  He did look a little shell-shocked, as he stood and smoked with a trembling hand.  He was wearing combats and "Call of Duty" was emblazoned across the back of his jacket - so appropriate for a service on Christmas morning.

Was his presence demanded by a wife, girlfriend, mother or sergeant major?  We will never know, but in some sense it seemed so fitting that his attendance was likely to be a call of duty rather than a voluntary thing, with eagerness overflowing.  Was he making a statement about being dragged along for the service?  Was he simply obsessed with the game, and thought it was trendy to wear his favourite gear? 

The priests (for there were three) came out after the sinners had all departed, and they swapped notes about their dresses/cassocks/ornate bomb disposal protective gear.  They were serving some higher being, having answered a call.  Their call of duty was to relay orders from above - from high command.  These three 'generals' were hardly wise, though.  One was a grumpy geezer with a face like a monkfish, another looked like he was related to the guy in the chair from Father Ted, and the third looked like something Hitler would have been pleased with - blond hair, blue eyes etc.  Hmm . . . wonder whether that explains anything.  Maybe this was a reconnaissance mission.

...

27.12.12 Peanuts Chosen By Me

The labelling on food is now all rather silly.  I give you, in evidence of this, the details contained on the reverse side of a tiny packet of peanuts obtained from Asda.  The front of the packet has little of note, other than confirmation that the nuts were chosen by me - not at random, as might be the requirement on Deal or No Deal - on purpose, because I wanted some nuts.  In case I am a thick cunt or am suffering from Alzheimer's Disease, Asda has helped me out; when I went to open the nuts, I saw the "Chosen by you" confirmation.  I was pleased to read yesterday the other note on the pack's front side - "THE PERFECT SNACK PACKED WITH CRUNCH"

The reverse side was crammed with information that helped me understand so much more than simply how many calories the nuts contained.  In fact, there was NO information on the calorie content at all!  I was amazed, because I thought that this piece of trivia was one of the main elements of the assault on us all with information.  As a result, I've had to Google the answer, and for your reference now, I've cut and pasted the following:

There are:

• approx 166 calories in 30 large dry roasted peanuts
• approx 166 calories in 60 small dry roasted peanuts
• approx 166 calories in 3 tablespoon (1 oz or 28g) of chopped dry roasted peanuts
• approx 854 calories in 1 cup (5.1 oz or 146g) of dry roasted unsalted peanuts
• approx 846 calories in 1 cup (5.1 oz or 146g) of dry roasted salted peanuts
• approx 585 calories in 3½ oz or 100g of dry roasted peanuts
• approx 164-166 calories in 1 oz or 28g of dry roasted peanuts
• approx 6 calories in 1 dry roasted peanut.

The packet of nuts is the smallest available - 50g.  Using the various tips, I have (without counting the cunting things) decided that the calorie consumption was (for the nuts were consumed well before now and any of this post mortem work) around 300.

Nutritionally, I can see the various percentages and grammes of fat, sugar, salt etc.  There are two sets of numbers.  The first relates to 100g worth of nuts, and the second to the 50g within the packet that constitutes, in the eyes of Asda, "One Serving".  So, after consuming my one serving, and checking all the numbers logged on the reverse of the packet, my nutritional benefits (or damage) equated to the following:

Energy 1232kj/297kcal, Protein 13.75g, Carbohydrate 6.85g, of which sugars 3.25g, Fat 23.1g of which saturates 3.7g, Fibre3.4g, Sodium 0.40g, equivalent as salt 1.0g

In line with the culture of the twenty first century, there is a warning on the packet, backed up with an exclamation mark!  "Please remember that small children can choke on nuts."  This was so helpful, as I'd completely forgotten that this was the case, and I made sure that they were placed temporarily in the safe, alongside the other various items that contain small parts and are not suitable for children under 36 months.  Just think, without this warning, I might have allowed kids to play with them.  I was saved from this risk by my mum, who at an early age told me - "Don't play with your food!"  As some kids are toying next door with a bunsen burner and a vat of amyl nitrate [ CH3(CH2)4ONO2 ] I will continue with the nuts story, safe in the knowledge that they won't choke, and that I am the one that carried all the risk in this house.

Away from the storage information, the bar code and the best before date, and the confirmation that these dry roasted peanuts were in fact "Peanuts coated in dry roasted seasoning", I learned something about the bag itself.  The bag was and still is made from "MIXED MATERIAL not currently recycled".  So, for the time being, nuts are bad for the environment (unless sold loose).  Going back to the best before date, I notice that as well as 26/04/2013 there are a few letters and then 18:07.  I hope this relates to a batch number during production, rather than a specific time on 26th April after which my innards will explode if I eat the peanuts.

The Allergy Advice was rather perplexing, with two bullet points as per the following:

• Contains peanuts and celery/celeriac
• May contain traces of nuts and sesame seeds

This is rather contradictory because the first point confirms that the packet contains peanuts, and that's no real surprise.  I suspect that anyone allergic to peanuts would choose something other than peanuts to buy.  As for the celery (which seems to contaminate all processed foods these days) I am ambivalent towards it.  The second point manages to introduce some serious doubt to the situation, with use of the word "may".  I seriously hope that what I've eaten DID contain traces of fucking nut because that's what I was expecting.  As for the sesame seeds, I am ambivalent towards them. 

So, I consumed my peanuts, celery, traces of nuts and sesame seeds, and a whole lot of other stuff which I will avoid listing.  I am pleased to know that during the consumption (in which no animals were harmed) I took in no artificial colours, flavours or hydrogenated fat.  I am not too sure what an artificial colour is though!  I think they mean 'colouring' because there is no such thing as an 'artificial colour' unless we're going to get all tree-huggy about what occurs in nature.  I reckon, though, that the people at Dulux will have charts that cover just about every colour, and that somewhere on the planet, every single one exists.  So, 50g fuller for having eaten some nuts (a mixture of nuts conforming to Pantone 18-1250 Bombay Brown, and a weird shade of dusty brown that looked a bit like a worn broom handle - but not artificial) I decided never to buy them again - tasted awful.

Still, as I look at the empty packet now, I can see one further piece of good news:

Packaged in a protective environment

WTF?  Does that mean there's a first-aider on standby, that the workers have padded seats, and that there's soothing background music?  There's probably a red cord for people to pull, to call the warden is a bit of dry roast gets too damp.

Yours ambivalently,
TMWSC

...

26.12.12 Quirks of the North

Earlier this month, I spent a couple of days with Mrs MWSC in North Yorkshire and West Yorkshire.  During our various travels, we observed on the side of a building the following sign.

Paint Your Own Pottery Studios

We both considered this offer and then jointly decided that we didn't really want one pottery studio let alone many, and that if we ever did, we'd employ some painters and decorators to get the studio(s) ready and/or do the refurbishment.  If the sign had included some helpful hyphens between the first three words, it would have helped with the conveyance of an appropriate message.

We also came across a sign that said "Original Fish & Chips".  We considered what other options could have crept on to a menu, and after discussion, were left with the following other versions of fish and chips that might exist:

Replacement Fish & Chips
Faux Fish & Chips
Substitute Fish & Chips
Imitation Fish & Chips
Reproduction Fish & Chips
Fake Fish & Chips
Copycat Fish & Chips
New Menthol Fish & Chips
Werther's Original Fish & Chips *

[ * The last one would only work if the owners had the surname 'Werther' ]

We were also surprised by the signage when we arrived at a very small place that we initially hadn't realised we'd entered.  Our attention was caught by a rather large sign over the premises to our right, which read:

Bocking Car Centre

There is no way to take this in without also considering "Fucking Car Centre".  Similarly, we saw the Bocking Working Men's Club was open for business.  As an aside, it is a fact that the most frequent vistors to any WMC are those who do no fucking/bocking work at all.

In Skipton, it was market day, and the place was bustling.  We wandered around the high street (after having visted the castle) and had a look in a few shops.  I cannot begin to relay the numerous snippets of conversation that wafted our way, but here are a couple.

Two women in the market, looking at some clothes

Woman No1:  "Ooh, that's a nice one."
Woman No2:  "It's the same as the one you're wearing."
Woman No1:  "Oh yes."

Two women in a furniture shop, one (Julia) clearly the boss

Assistant:  "Ooh, Julia, I've had an idea."
Manager:  "Congratulations."

Northern humour is so good, and the put-downs that float around are simply mint.

...

26.12.12 Sainsbury's Brand Match

On a recent visit to Sainbury's, I took the small trolley to the checkout while Mrs MWSC continued to gather a few extra small items.  She put her stuff on the conveyor belt but decided to pay separately for her half dozen things.

I spent £36.60, and as Ms Smiling Inanely handed me my change and receipt, she included a 'Brand Match' coupon that was a pointless piece of paper - to match her pointless comment:  "Oh, your branded shopping was the same price as Tesco and Adsa," delivered with a tone that displayed a weird fusion of glee in giving news, smugness that Sainsbury's was no dearer than the other two supermarkets, and smugness that Sainsbury's was doing rather well.  I pushed the trolley away slowly, as Ms Smiling Inanely rang up the items for Mrs MWSC.  A few seconds later, Mrs MWSC was relaying to me some further inane comments.  Apparently she'd been served with: "Oh, isn't that amazing; you're brand match shows your shopping is the same price as Tesco and Asda as well!"

"Amazing", luv?  No, I do not think so.  The detail on the coupon/slip awarded with each receipt showed nothing more than the statement:

Your branded shop was the same price here today

This is hardly surprising, although it clearly was to Ms Inane on the tills.  I think she has not yet grasped the concept or the terms of the brand match approach.  It applies only to 'branded good'.  The reason that £36.60 worth of shopping just happened to produce an outcome of 'neutral' was that I'd not bought any cuntin' branded goods.  The loose fruit and vegetables were all excluded from the comparison, as were the newspapers and everything that was a 'JS' item.  The twat on the till did not click that there was fuck all to compare.

Mrs MWSC had exactly the same situation - no branded goods in her shopping at all.  So when Ms Inane exclaimed how amazing it was that this was so after my having had such a result, there was clearly nothing going on in the brain department. 

I was not bothered by any of this - if I'd wanted to actually save money, I would have chosed to drive to Asda (further away) or Tesco, or Morrisons.  I think, though, that the lack of staff training is something the Sainsbury's management might like to tackle. 

I toyed with the idea of advising Sainsbury's of its pathetic ability to convince the public that it is cheaper than other supermarkets.  I was also sure that the Customer Service desk would not welcome my confirmation that strong foil disposable oven dishes on sale for £1.50 in the meat aisle were exactly DOUBLE the cost of IDENTICLE ones in the supermarket 500yards due west.  No doubt the only thing I'd have got back is that Lidl is not included in Brand Match, only Tesco and Asda.

...

25.12.12 Really TV

Today's viewing on the freeview channel 'Really' is quite simply odd.  Scouring the TV guide to see what's on, I cam across what can only be described as the weirdest entertainment.

8.00    Make My Body Younger
9.00    The Ellen DeGeneres Show
10.00  One Born Every Minute
11.00  One Born Every Minute
12.00  One Born Every Minute
1.00    One Born Every Minute
2.00    One Born Every Minute
3.00    One Born Every Minute
4.00    One Born Every Minute
5.00    One Born Every Minute
6.00    One Born Every Minute
7.00    One Born Every Minute
8.00    One Born Every Minute
9.00    My Big Breasts and Me
10.00  My Breasts and I
11.00  My Small Breasts and I
12.00  My Big Breasts and Me

I am struggling to understand a number of things regarding this schedule:

a) Why Ellen DeGeneres features amongst so many birth and boobs
b) Who could possibly want to watch eleven hours of 'One Born Every Minute'
c) The significance if the 'I' in the programmes at 10pm and 11pm, which suggest unfinished sentences in the title; "My Breasts and I . . . . . what?"  "Ride a bike?"  "Get On Well?"  There is no room for such grammatical contradictions in the last four programmes, and there should be some sort of scale for judging things (other than the unmentioned cup size).  How about a programme at 1am called "My Half-Full Glass" or should that be "My Half-Empty Glass of Milk", do you think?

...

24.12.12 It Asda Be Hell

Christmas shopping in Asda is not a nice experience at this time of the year.  In the last couple of days, people having been milling around and buying shit for the sake of it.  In fact, anything worthwhile has long since been removed from shelves by desperate shoppers, so that there is now only desperation in the aisles.  Anything you may have wanted from the clothing sections is now only available in sizes 'Anorexic' or 'Fat Fuck'.  Anything that a normal sized person might want to wear has been bought.

I have been 'treated' to the signt of a woman in per pyjamas.  She was shopping in her brushed cotton pyjama bottoms and moon boots.  The pattern and the material proved conclusively these were Primark ones, and there wasn't the slightest room for doubt.  I also overheard a young mother as she moved along the central aisle, looking over her shoulder at the small kid following.  The "I'll win you" comment was a challenge that extended far beyond the youngster's ability to understand flawed grammar.  I suspect the only excuse the thick mother could have mustered, if I'd asked for an explanation, would have been that she could not have said "I'll beat you" because that is reserved for when they're all at home and playing unhappy families.

The place was strewn with pallets and trolleys used for supplies to refill shelves.  This meant an obstacle course was created for all who entered, through the 6-foot gap of a store entrance.  Things that are essential purchases are rarely reduced, things you fancy buying are not on offer, things that you don't really want or need are on offer at a level that convinces you to rethink your requirements and needs, and there's always at least one gap on the shelf for an item you particularly wanted to buy.

"You are approaching the end of the walkway.  Please step off carefully."

When I was a small boy, I remember my parents telling me to be careful when I was for the first time getting on to an escalator (in British Home Stores, I think).  I also recall the advice for getting off the escalator.  I can confirm that after having received that advice, I was aware that it was perhaps not sensible to sniff the floor within an inch of the appearing and disappearing metal at each end, nor was is advisable to bend down and listen to the contraption recycling itself.  I also realised that wearing a hippie fringe on clothing was not sensible as it might trail and get caught.  I considered that being mangled was likely to make me very slightly less attractive, and that my future mobility could be compromised.  So, for many good reasons, I have always exercised common cunting sense when using an escalator.  In Asda, there is either a complete absence of common sense among shoppers, or the management cannot trust anyone to act sensibly.  As a result, anyone within earshot (let alone those with their ear to the ground, listening to the contraption recycling itself) has to endure the above message that is itself on an eternal fucking loop.  Why do I have to be told to step off carefully?  I'm hardly going to attempt a fucking forward roll!  This mindless homage to unnecessary H&S concerns is awful, and nearly as nauseating as Tess Daly telling me to "Dial carefully" when casting a telephone vote.

Back to Asda, where the two conveyance facilities are termed 'walkways' and I suspect this is because there are no steps, as in a conventional escalator, but instead a flat metal surface that is supposed to grip the back wheels of a trolley - something it struggles to do when you join the loop to come downhill.  It takes a second or two for the grip to be secure enough to stop movement, during which time it is often possible to find you've nudged a noseless kid in front.

I am told to drink responsibly, while looking at a case of twenty cans of beer for a tenner.  I am then buying a lottery ticket whilst bearing in mind how important it is to be 'aware of gambling' via the 'Gamble Aware' mantra.  I find that I cannot escape further advice, as the tannoy blares out music until an interruption that for some reason completely failed to announce the rather necessary "Cole Aware" warning.  Without such a warning, my poor ears [for I have two of them, as I've never listened to escalators] suffered an attack by the voice of Cheryl Cole.  She came on, touting some claptrap between two covers that she referred to as 'My Story', on sale in the book aisle.  That directional tip meant a lot of thickos who wanted to buy one did not accidentally head to the turkey aisle.

Just in case anyone is in any doubt, and as an aid to anyone who might be thick, Asda has included extra advice on the labelling of its own brand water.  The blue circle contains three words in white writing (although one is a long one, and might not be understood) to help with wellbeing:

 GOOD FOR HYDRATION

Now, I know that some people have to be told not to sniff escalators, or stick their fingers into plug sockets, but surely it's madness to put this guidance on a bottle of fucking water?  Basically, water is good for making sure your body has enough water.  Per-leeese.  If I had my way, and could influence some control over the purchasing policy at Asda, I might well advocate a new product line to go on sale, as shown in the following picture.

I am convinced it would be a best seller, and it could be part of an offer whereby a can of the stuff could gain the customer two free bottles of water.

...

23.12.12 This Week's Observations

How Thick Can You Be?

Keith Lemon was asking the questions, and Joey Essex was responding.  His level of anything resembling intellect was so low that it escapes anyone's radar.  Judge for yourself.

Keith:  How many sides does a square have?
Joey:   Six.
Keith:  What country does Danish bacon come from?
Joey:   Germany
Keith:  Which country borders Wales?
Joey:   London.  No, Russia.


The Maths Don't Work

Sorry, Garnier, but your TV adverts are a fucking joke when it comes to endorsement by those given new products to try.  Whatever "Olia" is supposed to do for someone, it seems to get the thumbs up on the mathematics side.  There are two adverts on the go.  In one, 85% of 860 women agreed with some piontless claim, and in the other, 93% of 441 women agreed that Garnier's product was doing what it claim on the pack/tin/tube.  In both cases, the sample was not too bad and the percentage endorsing things was okay.  There is a third Garnier advert on the TV this last week, where for whatever reason, a separate product is promoted.  This time, however, the endorsement falls rather short of anything of help.  74% of 71 women agreed.  WHAT?  Let's be clear on this; to be persuaded that this overpriced product is worth buying, women are supposed to based their purchasing on what just fifty-fucking-two women said they liked?  There are over three billion women on the planet and because 52 agreed with some-or-other claim by Garnier, that's supposed to be reason enough to buy it?  Bollocks.  Especially when the other 19 were unimpressed.  Pathetic marketing!


Bake Off - Timing Is Off

I had the misfortune to see Mary Berry making a cake a week ago.  It was a Christmas Cake, which she covered with icing that didn't even make it to the cake board around the side.  Poor attention to detail.  Less so than the attention paid by the twats that decided to air this programme about 11 days before Christmas, considering the whole exercise was a waste of time for all viewers - seeing that she announced, during the decorating, that the cake should be prepared at least three weeks before Christmas!  It was no doubt a repeat (for that is the only part-excuse that the BBC could come up with to make any sense of things) but nevertheless it was a faux pas.  It reminded me of what my mum used to do many times over the years - call me the day after someone's birday and ask if I'd remembered to send a card.  Timing is everything.


Not Dead Horsemen

Yesterday at 1pm, there was television coverage of some show jumping from London.  The Daily Mail TV Guide chose a curious way of describing this in the schedule - as follows:

Live Equestrian: Olympia 2012

Now, the word 'equestrian' can be used as an adjective (the most common usage) or as a noun, to mean a rider on horseback.  If it was being used as an adjective, then the programme should be 'Live Equestrian XXXX' but there was nothing to follow the word.  If it was being used as a noun, then clearly the riders on horseback would be alive rather than dead.  Whichever way one looks at it, the programme name is flawed.


Comedy Comment of the Week

This came to us today, courtesy of Roy Hodgson, who has apparently indicated that England could win the World Cup in Brazill, in 2014.  The funniest joke of the year, surely, just creeping in to win in the week before CHristmas.  That's a good one, Roy.


Emergency Shopping

I know what nuclear supplies are - well, in my house anyway.  I have long used the term to mean things with a long shelf life that I purchase when they're on offer.  Nuclear shopping can be fun, save money, and throw up some weird hoards of things in the pantry.  Watching the early evening news on TV yesterday, a reporter was interviewing a woman in Carlisle from the high street.  The woman confirmed she was doing some emergency shopping.  I discussed this concept with Mrs MWSC, and we could only come up with one answer on the merits of (and need for) this style of shopping.  If the woman was shopping, probably for presents, then it was still just shopping.  It may have been shopping in desperation, shopping with no consideration of quality or price, shopping in a panicked state, but it was not really 'emergency shopping'.  Only if it was her brother's birthday and he was due at her house in an hour, could she claim to be shopping in an emergency.  But it was unclear whether the shopping was deemed 'emergency' adjectivally, with 'shopping' being a noun, or adverbially, with 'shopping' being a verb.  The only sensible basis for classification like this that Mrs MWSC and I could agree on was for presents that would be suitable for presentation in a future emergency.  In other words, a generic present - an item that could be handed over in an emergency to give the impression that it had been purchased with thought and care well in advance for the exact occasion that was arising.  The genericism of the items would mean flexibility for various people to be receipients, as dictated by circumstance.  An unexpected visitor bearing a gift could be catered for quite easily, with reciprocation.


Cash Converters

What a weird and wonderfully bizarre place!  The mix of items for sale, and the values attached to them, make for challenges to the intellect that outdo anything on Mastermind.  There was far too much rubbish in the shop for me to comment on now, and I am not going to report that I rode away on a mobility scooter, nor that I purchased one of the 84 Wii boxes that were available.  I did buy three DVDs for a pound, but not a DVD player - I don't need one.  I did however notice that there were a couple for sale.  One of the slim silver contraptions had the standard tiny label affixed to the front, but without figures for the deposit amount or the six further payments necessary.  The asking price for the item was just three pounds, but it was the tag-line underneath that perplexed me, and I struggled to consider what other attribute this device could have that might make it still an attractive purchase!

DVD Player

Doesn't play DVDs

Can you think of anything that would be a worse sort of hint in aiding the sale of a DVD player?


Christmas Films

I see we're in for some long old slogs.  Spartacus is beaten by Cleopatra, and Ben Hur beats The Lord of the Rings.  I don't mean literally, of course.  I am talking about the length of films and the slots they fill in the TV schedules.  The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is allowed four hours on Channel 4, and with the film being 201 minutes, there's 39 minutes of adverts and padding.  For Ben Hur on Channel 5, given four hours and ten minutes for the 212 minutes of film, there are 38 minutes of adverts and padding.  Over on ITV4, the three hours and fifty minutes for the 184 minutes of film mean padding and adverts of 46 minutes.  So for the channels with advertising, we have the following results, and can make the following deductions:

For the 'commercial' channels, the shorter the film, the more time is devoted to advertising.  I suppose that's mildly generous of the channels, and it's quite clear to me that these 'epics' have caused them to take the piss to a lesser degree than normal, when it's not uncommon for there to be as little as 3 minutes of programme per minute of advertising (especially on Channel 5).

What is perplexing, though, is the showing of Cleopatra in a time slot of 3hrs 55mins on BBC4 today.  This means that with no adverts, the maximum available time for the film is 235 minutes, although there's always some touting of programmes and unofficial advertising at the end of the marathon.  So, 230+ is bound to be realistic.  The confusion comes from the film itself, which has lengths of over six hours in the original amount filmed, 320 minutes for the Director's Cut, a standard running time of 248 minutes, 243 minutes for the version originally shown after filming, and the 192 minutes of the eventually released version (Theatrical Cut).  So, what version does BBC4 have in its library?  This is not adding up, and I sense the flawed influence of Garnier here!

...

22.12.12 Strictly Come Dancing Final

Please, please, please [which according to Bruce, rhymes with Denise !!!] can someone at the BBC confirm that Bruce Forsythe will be sent to a donkey sanctuary for his well-overdue retirement.  I am not sure that I can endure any more input from him.

Sadly for Dani Harmer this week, she was not as good and had to be the first to go.  The other three were pretty even.

At the restart, it was no great surprise to see a Charleston from Deneeze, or to see it get a score of 40.  Then Kimberley Walsh managed to score 40 as well for an equally good performance (a score that we received after some further formulaic input and questioning from Tess Daly).  Then it was the turn of Louis to score 40, and cause issues on how to make comparisons between a male and two female performers; not quite as difficult to do as it is for Dancing On Ice.  The fact that he chose the Charleston as well meant it was easy for me to compare it with Denise's effort and it wasn't as good except he's a gymnast and can do things that aren't actually dancing to gain extra applause and marks.  On cue, the judges produced the scores and . . . oh dear . . . Craig spoils things with a 9 to give a third score of 39.

I was about to phone my vote though when Tess provided some fantastic and helpful advice: "Remember, dial carefully."  Driver carefully, possibly, or use a cutthroat razor with care, but not dial a fucking phone number, for fuck's sake!  I joke of course - as if I was going to waste money with a call!

Sadly the BBC had to provide Robbie Williams with another opportunity to prove to us all he cannot sing.  His dire and strained bollocks was a low point in the music, which is generally rather good from the house band and singers.  Why does Robbie get this exposure when I can kick the dog to get that sort of awful whine?

Looking at the best bits was overdone.  We we-re-recapped and at last we got to the result, with the programme being in the region of 20 minutes too long , or at least past the point of respectability.  This wasn't the Olympics!

"It's that time we've all been waiting for."   Yes, Tess, thanks . . . . .

Louis wins, with Flavia.  Nice chaps.


[Bruce demonstrated repeatedly his bouncer skills with "Back off, back off, back off, back off" to the other dancers when they went to congratulate the winners]

...

22.12.12 Pointlessness

I had the complete misfortune to find myself watching Pointless Celebrities on BBC1, which came on after Final Score and the News.  I was amazed to find out what now qualifies one as being a 'celebrity'.  I was amazed to discover that not only is the term mis-allocated, it is never seemingly rescinded despite people being unheard of for years.

Lee MacDonald and Erkan Mustafa?  What the fuck?  Two people talking about Grange Hill from over thirty years ago!

Sarah Greene and Mike Smith?  Alistair Armstrong's introduction included "We know you best for . . . " as the preamble for some bollocks about their TV pasts, but I remember him for a helicopter crash (???)

Peter Duncan and Mark Curry?  Yawn . . Blue Peter tosh from many years ago.

Jamie Theakston and Jayne Middlemiss?  Well, at least I've heard of them and seen them this century.  Just as well they won.

Alistair Armstrong came out with some dire dialogue:

"We're going to show you five pictures of culinary fruit and vegetables."

"After round one let's have a look at the scores as they stand."

"Well done, Jayne, a very good start to your pointless career."

All pure pointlessness.

...

22.12.12 The UK Is Not A Democracy

Despite what we are told, and despite what we may think, the UK is most definitely NOT a democracy.  For a long time now, there has been no freedom of speech, and for an equally long time, democracy has not ruled.  Even on small matters, there is now a complete fear by far too many of 'upsetting' people.  Institutions, companies and individuals all pander to the concerns [most are theoretical rather than real] of do-gooders, and liberal arseholes.  'Campaigners' and 'Activists' are always fucking up something or other and ignoring both common sense and the will of the majority.

Instead of the wishes of the majority counting for much, the whinges of the very few can trump everything and anything.  In the last few day, a complaint by ONE mum stopped teachers including a song in a carol concert.  The children agreed that singing the US novelty hit Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer would be fun.  After receiving just one complaint [that the lyrics are too upsetting for seven-year-olds] the head of the junior school in Rotherham decided to remove the song.  I am struggling to work out which of the two women is the most idiotic and anal.  Is it the mother who needs to get a life?  'Yes' - her offspring are going to lead sheltered lives, I fear.  Is it the headmistress?  Double 'Yes' - someone in charge of a junior school who bows to the call from just one parent and ignores the views of all the other parents is surely not fit to guide youngsters, eh?  What do you think?

Meanwhile, over in Kent, democracy has been flipped, again on the flawed basis of having to cater for a minority rather than allowing common sense to prevail.  Parents had to sign consent forms before their kids could go to a Christmas carol service - for religious reasons.  This came about because of some complaints from families who didn't want their children going because they aren't Christian.

The vast majority of the children [557] joined in the service and provided proof that there was no issue for the majority.  However, for consent to have to be given is a perverse requirement, and this was explained perfectly well by one parent, who said:

"Surely families who don't want children to attend should be signing something, not us?  This is a Christian country which is slowly going to the dogs with all this political correct [sic] nonsense - it's offensive."

Yes, sadly it's the case now that the majority does not rule, the majority view is too often ignored, and causing offence is now the worse crime one can commit.  Cunting madness!

...

22.12.12 News Stories & Daftness

Comparisons

There are some oddities in the world that cannot easily be explained.  Sometimes the approaches adopted by people, companies and institutions are so wildly variable that no one could argue our society is consistent and sensible.

McDonald's - a worker has been sacked for sprinkling too much chocolate on a McFlurry.  This action was classed as giving away food and deemed 'gross misconduct', for which the 19-year-old lost her job.  She has received between £3000 and £5000 compensation in an out-of-court settlement after she claimed unfair dismissal.  Meanwhile, the sizes of chocolate bars and tins of chocolate sweets have been shrinking, as manufacturers play games and rip off consumers; not a crime, apparently - not even misconduct, but definitely grossly immoral.

Football Tweet - 19-year-old Spanish footballer Suso has been fined £10,000 by the FA for tweeting: "What the fuck is he doing. This guy is gay" alongside a picture of his teammate Jose Enrique who'd had his teeth whitened.  Enrique was hardly upset and confirmed it was just a joke.  I can't say I have much sympathy for footballers and their antics, but this over-the-top censorship is pathetic.  Meanwhile, as I previously posted, the appalling racism issue in Serbia, involving thousands on an international stage led to a fine of just £65,000. 

Stupid Comments

Perfume - the EU wants to ban the use of allergy-causing ingredients.  French luxury perfume maker Frederic Malle said: "If this law goes ahead I am finished.  The impact will be like an atomic explosion."  A slight exaggeration there, I think, Frederic!

Hot Chocolate - the world's hottest bar has gone on sale.  It's called Instant Regret and is infused with the heat of 2500 jalapeno peppers.  The 6.4 Scoville units make it three times hotter than police-issue pepper spray.  A spokesman for the makers (Firebox.com) said: "It's extraordinarily hot."  Really?
Other Stories

Forged Coins - there are 44million fake one pound coins in circulation!  That's 3% of the total in the country.  Treasury officials and the Serious Organised Crime Agency have warned the public to be wary of their change.  How fucking mad is that!  As we supposed to bite them, raise concerns over coins given in charge after every transaction?  If a till operator runs out of fivers (a common occurrence) are we supposed to reject seven or eight coins in case they are forged?  Being 'war of my change' and being able to do much about it are rather different things.

Pathetic Question

The week's most pathetic 'quiz' question featured in Who Wants To Be A Millionaire last night.  The amazingly shitty question that cost £1.54 to answer was:  "What is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer's most famous feature?"

A:  Big Ears
B:  Long Tongue
C:  Curly Tail
D:  Red Nose

RSPCA

I discovered today that the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals has squandered a colossal amount of money.  After posing as a charity with honourable and noble intentions, it seems that it is able to waste £300,000 on prosecuting an Oxfordshire hunt for killing a fox.  Even the judge questioned whether the staggering amount of money was well spent.  So one dead fox is still dead; meanwhile, thousands of other animals that could have been protected are being completely ignored, and could possibly die.  I've only heard of one other organisation that is happy to squander money given to it - the BBC.  The latter is of course relatively safe from financial pressures because the licence fee guarantees income.  The RSPCA, however, is playing a silly game; I for one will not be giving a penny or advocating anyone gives a penny to an entity that will waste it.

21.12.12 Afghanistan In Colour

Eyes, Faces, Children, People

I don't know enough about many things, and this includes the realities in Afghanistan.  What I do know is that pictures can be amazing, and pictures from this part of the world are definitely so, especially those featuring children.

...

20.12.12 Christmas Lights

I can understand how putting up lights can be addictive, and it's not a great step from that to it becoming competitive.  There have been films and TV episodes which have featured this as their theme, usually to silly levels and obsession.

I dabbled a few years back with small lights around the four front-facing windows, but that was a short-lived thing, I think for just two consecutive years at Christmas.  By then, the green wires had knotted, odd bulbs had blown and the whole process of taping them to the window frames seemed onerous and pointless.  If I were to bother once more, it could well be along the lines of the following photo [courtesy of Ann] if wound up by a neighbour.

I think I'd very much enjoy living in Australia - there's simply no pissing about or holding back, and I rather like that!

...

19.12.12 Gender Directive

Equality is something that in the most general terms is a laudable aim.  In most things, there seems no basis to warrant inequality.  So, making sure there's no discrimination on pay and terms of employment is clearly reasonable.  In the past, discrimination has been totally reprehensible and a facet of society which was embarrassing.  However, there are some scenarios where treating things with complete equality makes little sense.

There are of course the less concerning examples, like Wimbledon prize money.  Five years ago, the Men's and Ladies' Singles Champions each received £700,000.  For the first time the prize was the same, despite the fact that the men all had to work rather harder for their money.  This is not in line with equality or merit for effort.  Nevertheless, let's overlook that because in the entertainment and sporting worlds, value is subjective and what the general public wants to watch is not an exact science.

Let us now consider the change that's to happen in a couple of days, after the European Union decided to fuck up something else - the insurance market.  Insurance cover for females is to jump by as much as 30%.  It is quite clear that women live longer; yes, it's a sweeping generalisation, but it is a fact that they are a safer bet when the maths are considered, and a premium is being set for life cover.  So, it is ludicrous to ignore that fact after this Friday, and charge women as much as men.

I will try to be flexible with my outlook, and agree that for the benefit of cheaper rates, women did not actually have to DO anything - just 'not die', which is a rather passive thing.  So, by simply existing, they benefited from a broadly adopted approach by the establishment and by companies which offer life policies.  With inate qualities of longevity, the lucky women saved a few quid while doing nothing.  If that is deemed unacceptable, and that there ought to be some 'averaging out' for the greater good, then I suppose it is an argument that could be made - to some degree.  However, there can be no such flexibility when considering car insurance.

Staying alive is rather lower down the list of actions requiring positive input than driving a vehicle.  For the latter, a certain degree of attention is needed, as well as the ability not to be a cunt behind the wheel; well, actually, it has been (until Friday at least) better to be a cunt behind the wheel than a prick!  Let's switch terms to "responsible driver" and "risk taking nob".  Women are quite simply more careful than men.  Being careful and not taking silly risks is surely rather relevant to the premium on a car insurance policy.  The EU has simply pulled the rug from under the insurers by demanding a level playing field that treats all risks equally despite evidence that confirms there is variation.

Finally, I'd like to note a comparison with the gambling industry.  Yes, that's an appropriate term ('industry') because in the UK, gambling is most certainly promoted, endorsed and participated in on an industrial scale.  There is nothing that cannot now be the subject of a bet, or a competition (one and the same thing).  The premium for having a go, whether entering a competition for £1 plus the cost of a text, or buying a lottery ticket, or putting money on a horse, is for the chance of getting something more back.  I recall a story a few years ago where a family was worried about having twins; the expectant mother and father 'insured' themselves against the risk, and they did this by placing a bet at a betting shop.  It meant that in the unlikely event of the mother giving birth to two offspring, they'd scoop some money that would help them with the higher than expected expenses.  This is the essence of insurance.  I suspect that they would have got better odds for the most spectacular payout if they'd bet against the husband giving birth, but as it was, gender retained its relevance.

So, a bet and taking out insurance are really one and the same thing.  Consider, then, that bets should not be allowed if there is any semblance of inequality within the gamble.  This is stupid, of course, because that's the nature of a bet.  What we are really saying is that in betting which nightingale sings better, we will have to have even odds for the male and female, even though it's the male that sings beautifully.  I'm sure the EU would direct us otherwise!  In a 100m race between Usain Bolt and Jessica Ennis, you wouldn't get longer odds for Ennis!  Forget whether a punter has tits - we may as well all play 'red or black'.

Men and women are not the same.  Whilst a typical 22-year-old woman may be sensible and careful, and her male counterpart a boy-racer, I appreciate it could be the other way round.  However, considering the first offence or crash will have significant (and penal) consequences for both sexes, and that insurers have extensive records and stats on all aspects, the differences that have been in place till now have some sort of merit.  To flick a switch on Friday and put up costs for all females is simply madness, and more proof that the EU does fuck all of real value.  Be assured that if there is any drop in charges applicable to males, it will most definitely NOT be equal to the rise for females.

...