Aarrgghh!! Stop the World, I want to get off

2011-09-15T16:33:00.001+01:00

Well, it's been a while. Just wondering if there is anybody still out there. I must admit, I have been absent for a while. Four years but who's counting? Any of my old listeners feel free to drop me a comment, rude or otherwise. I don't care.

Lewis Hamiton deserts his country

2007-10-31T16:55:00.000Z

Our up~~start~~ and coming Formula 1 star is leaving our shores (just after his local council named a road after him). This piece from the Telegraph nearly had me in tears.

"You lose your ability to go to places. You really struggle to live a normal life. It's been a really tough year. I've not been able to spend a lot of time with my friends, my family. You come home and everyone knows you, it makes it so much harder to do normal things," Hamilton said. "I can't go to the cinema. I go to the bathroom in a petrol station and people come in there for autographs. It's tough but I knew that was going to be the case."

Isn't life so tough for the soon to be, if not already, millionaire.

Switzerland eh? Nothing to do with paying next to no tax then. Or is this me just being a tad cynical? Perish the thought.

TRAITOR

Proud to be English

2007-10-21T11:52:00.000+01:00

Biggest reaction of last nights match in my local boozer.

1. Our brave England lads running on to the field at the start of hostilities - No

2. Belting out our National Anthem (all pussy footballers, take note) - No

3. The 'Australian' official who made us wait three agonising minutes before disallowing that try - No

4. Jason Robinson sadly ending his career with a damaged shoulder - No

5. Our plucky lads final defeat by an admittedly superior side on the night - No

Do you know what made them raise the roof at the Flying Saucer last night?

Gordon Browns smug, fucking Scottish mug, that's what.

Standing there in his suit and tie (does he ever wear anything else?) next to that equally slimy French git, Sarkozy. What the bloody hell was a haggis eater doing supposedly supporting the English rugby team? Who invited him? And I bet he didn't pay for his ticket, either. Probably came just to gloat. Ditto for his Gallic mate.

Priceless quote of the night from a pretty blonde thing who spent most of the evening proudly thrusting her 'new boobs' under any testosterone filled males nose.

" What colour are our side playing in?"

I kid you not.............Bless!

(Well I had to look. It would have been rude not to.)

We lost, but we lost with dignity and pride. Isn't it great being born an Englishman?

"Where's me spinach"

2007-09-17T20:22:00.000+01:00

I think I am a reasonably fit bloke for a fifty something, but why do they make petrol pumps so bloody hard to squeeze? By the time I reach the top of the tank, veins are bulging in my neck and my arms are pumped up like Popeye.

Pity the poor people with arthritis.

"Now move along please sir"

2007-09-15T13:47:00.000+01:00

Oh how many times do we hear this.

"Travelers have today moved onto a site close to residential areas and the local council and Police have received complaints about noise, mess and abusive behaviour from these temporary residents.
The council is applying for an eviction notice which will take several days to be enforced"

This happened in Rainham this week in a car park of a disused building. Several pikey scum decided in their own subtle way, that they were going to call this place home whether anybody liked it or not.

Now we all know how hard it is to shift these bastards, well shock horror, they were gone the next day.

How can this be? You may well ask yourself.

The place in question was a disused Police Station car park.

Nuff said?

Treason afoot

2007-09-12T16:13:00.000+01:00

The words 'Queen' and 'scrapped' should not even be in the same sentence, but that is what those faceless bureaucrats in OUR Foreign Office want to do to our passport.
It was bad enough that we lost our beloved blue book recognized all around the globe, to that insipid little pink (well nearly) booklet we have to lug around these days, but to even think about removing Her Maj from the front page is tantamount to treason. And those wankers in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, should be paraded down Whitehall whilst being tarred and feathered by all and sundry.
On a good note though, common sense has prevailed when the Europricks announced that they would no longer pursue us Brits over the use of Imperial measurements. That's worth having a good ol' British pint for.
You know. I do believe we are gradually getting them around to our way of thinking, despite all their huffing and puffing. We should take a leaf out of France's book. Tell them to 'foxtrot oscar', as it were.

Beware Bouncy Castles

2007-09-09T12:01:00.000+01:00

Two weeks ago, we went to a friends son's 21st at their house. A Bouncy castle was wobbling in the garden, so of course I had to act the kid and have a go.

Consequently, my neck has been aching ever since.

Obviously it isn't as supple and flexible as I thought. Now where's that 'Deep Heat'?

Who needs football?

2007-09-08T10:42:00.000+01:00

Oh what joy to behold.

'Les Bleus' got their arses whipped by the Argies.

Isn't it refreshing to watch grown men acting like such.

No histrionics when injured.

Respecting and talking, not screaming, to the referee.

No cheating..........

No views of 'WAGS' posing for the cameras

Fans of both sides sitting together without taking lumps out of each other and the piece de resistance is the complete lack of foul language from players and fans alike.

Who needs football?

Am I looking forward to the rest of this World Cup.

Bodiam Castle

2007-08-26T17:09:00.004+01:00

This was the glorious scene confronting us at the beginning of today's six mile jaunt around some of England's finest countryside.
Bodiam Castle is the epitome of what every schoolboy imagines a castle should look like. It's got the ramparts, portcullis and the obligatory moat surrounding it. You can easily slip back through the mists of time and imagine yourself manning the ramparts and raining arrows on the poor unfortunates below. The only hordes that swarm over it now are tourists eager to capture some of that sense of history that pervades from every stone.

This view was taken about ten minutes into the walk up a track leading away from the castle. On days like today we truly do live in the 'Garden of England'. And yes, that is a vineyard you see on the right. Unfortunately, the fruit wasn't ripe as yet, but we did manage to scrump some delicious blackberries en route.

We stumbled across this beautiful 14th century manor house at the end of a grassy track. I always marvel at some of the little gems tucked away deep in the countryside away from prying eyes. This place is called Great Wigsell and it has been owned by the Culpeper family over the centuries. We briefly met the owner on the drive exercising her two black labs'.

Barney the wonderdog was his usual pain in the arse. Whining half the time in the car and when we do get out, he thinks he's pulling a sled judging by the way we were dragged along half the time. Funny how he would only pull us down hill, but never up.He managed to find a couple of ponds on the way in which to cool off. I was tempted myself 'cos it was bloody hot out there. Resisting the temptation of 'The Curlew' public hostelry we eventually staggered back into the castle car park three hours later. A beautiful mornings walk ended with a delicious picnic in the grounds of the castle. And what will we be doing tomorrow on this Bank Holiday weekend? We will be doing bugger all, that's what.

We get our walks from walkingworld.com which is a treasure trove of walks for all parts of our sceptered isle. If you're a seasoned walker (I hate the term, 'rambler'), this site is certainly worth a peek at.

Insurance, the white mans burden

2007-08-24T14:46:00.000+01:00

How do I know that the car insurance is due?

Because the Amazon rain forest has this week been seriously depleted to provide all the paper for every insurance company known to man to line my hallway with their "exclusive offers to a safe driver like me".

It appears that once the half century has been reached, a transformation occurs. No longer are you that naive, thrill seeking boy racer with ne'er a care in the world as you unflinchingly splatter hedgehogs and drench old ladies with kerbside puddles. Once over fifty, you become sensible and plodding and therefore less of a risk.

HAH!! I've fooled 'em.

Hedgehogs still quake at my approach and octogenarians of either sex don waterproof gear once I wheel spin out of the drive.

Who am I trying to kid? I am what they think I am. And yes, I have looked at the SAGA quote. Aren't they bloody expensive? I may be over fifty, but I cannot afford to lose either an arm or a leg to pay their premiums.

No, I shall do what every upstanding citizen does and go for the cheapest one.

Whatever happened to taking risks?......sigh

------------------------------------------------------------

N.B. The title is an episode from the Goon show and not some underhand racist remark. So stop all hopping about, it just seemed appropriate to my whinge.

Don't sail in this Captain's ship

2007-08-06T16:26:00.000+01:00

On Saturday, we made a last minute decision to charge down to the sea and splash about, catch crabs, get sunburnt and do all the stuff that goes into a good ol' fashioned English trip to the seaside.

Being miserable bastards, we searched for a quiet unpopulated beach to sprawl on. Not for us the great unwashed with their screaming rug rats running riot amidst great globules of shiny pink flesh slowly frying to a turn in that strange phenomena called the sun. No beach balls smashing into crisps and warm orange juice. Just a reasonably quiet beach where we could chill. Hard to find in Kent, although we have the longest coastline in the country.

Kingsgate Bay came up trumps. Small, quiet and safe swimming. Unfortunately the nearest place for the motor is in the car park of the 'Captain Digby' pub. They charged us a tenner (yes, a bloody tenner) on the understanding that if we bought a meal inside, the charge would be waived. Perfect, we thought.

After three hours fun on the beach we returned to the pub for some scran, only to be informed whilst ordering the grub that there is in fact no policy to refund car parking fees to non-customers. I politely pointed out to the youth who was masquerading as management that as we were ordering food, surely that entitled us to be called, customers.

"It doesn't work like that" was his oft to be repeated answer.

Apparently, if we had walked directly into the pub and ordered a meal after paying the exorbitant amount they charged us, we would be discounted when we ordered some food. I not so politely (I was getting seriously pissed off by now) told this twat, that "If I wanted to use his poxy pub, I certainly wouldn't pay a tenner to park my car as I would be a 'customer', wouldn't I?"

"It doesn't work like that".

It does drag on much more, but I had met the jobs worth from hell, so I told him to stick his food where the sun don't shine and that "Thanks to his helpfulness, I will never darken his door again".

The moral of this sad tale is that because of this wankers attitude, instead of getting twenty to thirty quids worth of trade from a happy customer, he was quite happy to make do with a tenner from a distinctly unhappy customer who will never return and will certainly tell all and sundry what mean spirited prats they are at the Captain Digby.

Remember the name, for the worst reasons.

Needless to say. Thorley Taverns (their parent company) received a snotty e-mail. As yet, I have received no reply.

This is England.

Should I hold my breath?

The sun has got his hat on.

2007-07-30T08:37:00.000+01:00

They forecast a sunny week at last. Coincidentally, I have five fabulous days off work.

Yippeeeeeee....

How long before the drought orders and hosepipe bans?

My Simpsons debut

2007-07-29T14:48:00.000+01:00

Yes, I am now a movie star.

This is me strolling through the carnival.

Maidstone River festival

2007-07-29T11:55:00.001+01:00

We strolled along the banks of the Medway yesterday watching people messing about on the river. The fun raft race was a sight to behold and it was a joy to see so many people relaxed and enjoying themselves.
The Maidstone River Festival is held annually and gets better every time. Boats come from all over the south-east and beyond and judging by the amount of booze we saw stashed on these floating bars, they all partied well into the night.
The event culminates in a firework display over the town which we unfortunately couldn't stay for.

Here are some more waterborne idiots.

Send in the clowns

2007-07-28T08:12:00.000+01:00

I'm fifty three years old and I'm getting excited about going here for pity's sake. I think my brain was wired up in reverse.
I now know why the circus is in decline. They charged me £57 for the three of us (two big 'uns and one littl'un). That's a lot of dosh to watch people falling over and generally acting the goat. Mind you, the russian girl who ~~robbed~~ took my cash had lovely eyes.
Can't wait.

Ex boxer shot in face for asking a bloke to put his fag out.

2007-07-24T17:24:00.002+01:00

After reading this, I wonder where this country is going.
But didn't the government in the aftermath of the Dunblane tragedy ban all hand guns to stop this sort of thing from happening?
It appears that is de rigeur to go out for the evening 'tooled up'.

The "Great Flood"

2007-07-24T17:01:00.000+01:00

It makes me want to puke when I see those sanctimonious, condescending wankers on the early evening news reporting at the scene of the "Great Flood". The presenter on last nights ITV appeared to be creaming his jeans at the thought of this tragic event.
Why do they have to state the obvious?
"Here we are in Tewkesbury where it is eerily quiet".
Well of course it's bloody quiet. There's no power, drinking water and people, unless they have grown gills. And to think, these tossers are probably on fifty grand plus a year. And of course, our 'caring' PM hops on the first passing helicopter to survey the poor bastards homes floating down the Thames, Avon etc. What good is he? Making those usual promises politicians make to appease the masses. Seven years ago, Lewes in Sussex was hit by devastating floods and our government 'promised' them that they would get defences built to prevent a repeat washout. Seven years on and Lewes is still waiting.
Maybe we should give Bob Geldorf/Bono/Madonna a call. Get them to organise 'Flood Aid', 'cos the unfortunate victims of Mother Natures wrath sure as hell shouldn't hold their breath waiting for the government to cough up.
My heart goes out to all those poor people whose homes have been devastated. Thankfully, 'darn sarf' we have been spared their plight and I live on high ground also. If I get flooded, the 'Big Smoke' would have to be several feet under the oggin and the politicians would never allow that to happen.

Changing my name to Noah

2007-07-15T09:50:00.000+01:00

It's raining - again.

Why do I have this urge to find some high ground, build a boat and fill it with animals?

Bouncing camera

2007-07-15T09:37:00.001+01:00

We found out on our recent holiday that cameras do not perform so well after being bounced. The little preview screen on my trusty, but rather tatty, 'Olympus brio' is now blank and refuses to function. At last, an excuse to buy a new camera. What a nightmare. Have you looked at what is on offer in the digital camera world? It is mind boggling. Unless you have a degree in quantum physics, there is no way you can decide on what you really want. I finally opted for an Olympus FE-170. Why? Because I liked the look of it and I could get it £40 cheaper on eBay.

P.S. AArrgghh.... I have since discovered that my old faithful camera still works perfectly well. Apart from the little screen that is. Oh well.

P.P.S. My new toy takes good piccies though. Don't you think?

The wonders of management

2007-07-14T16:12:00.000+01:00

A month ago my department (they are actually called "cells". What's that all about?) had a change of middle manager and like all prats with a very high opinion of themselves, he wanted to make "alterations" to "improve productivity and efficiency".

Yesterday we had five rows of two work benches and today we now have three rows of four work benches.

Brilliant.

This cost the company the loss of a mornings work by myself and five of my colleagues due to the upheaval, plus the expense of outside contractors to the tune of £10,000 (yes, £10,000) because Health and Safety dictates that there is no way that we could do it ourselves. Apparently we are not insured to get involved in manual labour.

Monday we will all be altering said benches to something to what they were before this brainwave occurred. Another mornings work lost.

British management.

Don't it make you want to cry.

P.S. The two extra benches didn't slip past you, did they?

Gorillas have feelings too

2007-07-14T15:41:00.001+01:00

Yesterday I had a very humbling experience. Mrs K, little K and I went to visit Port Lympne wildlife park in Kent. Now, I am no lover of animals kept in captivity, be it a 'wildlife park', zoo, whatever. As far as I am concerned, the best place for wild animals is in the wild. Yes I know endangered species have a better chance of survival in captivity, but that is another story. If I could sow that seed for conservation of our animals in their natural habitat to an impressionable twelve year old, then it would be worth the trip.

Port Lympne, in its defence does a lot to introduce species back into the wild. Part of the Howletts parks, they are well renowned for their conservation ideals. So, I wasn't feeling too guilty.

It was when we came across the gorilla enclosure that I experienced something that I will never forget in my life. Mrs K and littl'un had moved further around the cage whilst I stopped to look at a large silverback sitting quietly on his own and it got me wondering what he was thinking about sat there behind bars without any supposed worries in the world. I mean, food wasn't a problem and nobody was going to shoot him for bush meat or just as a trophy. He had tyres and ropes and several levels of the enclosure to explore and stimulate him, but I couldn't help thinking, "but he isn't free, is he". And then our eyes locked. Those huge beautiful brown eyes looked straight at mine and I couldn't help but feel a great sadness for him and his like. It made me ashamed to be a member of the human race to see this fine beast subdued within a cage.

I felt moved to speak to this proud animal and actually apologised for his predicament.

He looked at me with his sad eyes, scratched his arse and farted.

Nuff said really.

Paradise.............

2007-06-23T12:36:00.000+01:00

Please, please, pleeeeeeeeease let me win the Lotto.

I want to live here.

Bliss: Going to sleep in perfect quiet.
Ecstasy: Living in a village with NO teenage hoodies intent on being a pain in the arse.
Utopia: No traffic, 'cept for the odd tractor.
Valhalla: Local shop 1 minutes walk and more importantly, the local boozer only 2 minutes walk.
And to cap it all, an abundance of wildlife on your very own doorstep.

This is Winster.

Mum. I want to go back

That's some chicken

2007-06-23T12:23:00.000+01:00

This is not what I was expecting whilst out walking the Derbyshire Dales last week. Bet you could get a few omelette's out of that egg.

Derbyshire, here we come

2007-06-08T19:55:00.000+01:00

This time next week, we will all be settled in a pretty cottage in a small village called Winster within the Peak District.

If I'm honest, the main reason for visiting this beautiful area of our green and pleasant land, is to experience the Alton Towers phenomenon. Little Miss k has been banging on about going for sometime now. We were all set last year until I discovered that she wasn't tall enough for the real rides by about half and inch. I refuse to talk in tongues. Metrification has yet to enter my conscious, sub or otherwise.

I wouldn't be totally truthful if I didn't say that I want to go just as much. Being an adrenalin junkie, I love the thrill of being thrown around at seemingly impossible speeds and angles whilst keeping the contents of my stomach where they should be. Coupled with the fact that we have two days visit for the price of one, so it just has to be done.

The walking boots are packed for some serious yomping amid the Peak District and of course a visit to the Chatsworth estate is a must. Some friends of ours who live just a couple of miles from Winster don't know it yet, but they are getting a visit. Probably at their local boozer - I hope.

Anybody with any further suggestions of places to see, don't hesitate to let me know.

One rule for us......

2007-06-08T18:56:00.000+01:00

I see that freeloading airhead Paris Hilton has managed to last a whole three days in the nick.

It transpires that the poor lamb is suffering from an undisclosed 'medical condition' and may spend the rest of her sentence under house arrest. Wonder what all the other cons think about that then?

What utter tosh and balderdash (don't you just love that word). This boring, self obsessed twat has greased a few palms with her old mans untold wealth to get herself some preferential treatment, but the good old judge who sent her down in the first place screams....whoooaaa.

He's all for sending her back right now. The man gets my vote.

"We are dining"

2007-06-07T18:55:00.001+01:00

Well here they are in all their glory.

'Charles & Camilla' have entered the garden.

Aren't they beautiful?

The skirt around the table is an anti squirrel device which works pretty well and it has taken me twenty years to come up with something to thwart those bloody tree rats.

Watch the birdie

2007-06-06T18:45:00.001+01:00

For the last couple of weeks we have had a couple of strangers visit us on a regular basis.
Usually they pop in about three times a day to gorge themselves stupid. No I don't mean some old tramp and his tart, our visitors are of the feathered variety.
A pure white dove accompanied by her escort, a very handsome racing pigeon now use the krip residence for their breakfast, dinner and tea. They are inseparable. Where one is, the other is never far away. I know somebody around our area keeps racing pigeons because I often see them wheeling around overhead. They are quite skittish, but I will attempt to take a picture, next time they call.
Mrs k has named them 'Charles and Camilla'. They do look quite regal.

What the Dickens.............

2007-06-05T18:41:00.001+01:00

Yes it's that time of year again, whereupon several normally sane and upstanding citizens of these fair towns decide to dress up as characters from the books of Charles Dickens.
His association with the City of Rochester is well documented and our local council try to cash in on his popularity by organizing the Dickens Festival.
There's a small fair the likes of us fifty somethings remember. You know, Hoop La, Coconut Shy, Crooked House etc. Lots of craft stalls and the ubiquitous burgers and hot dogs stinking the atmosphere out.
Several events go on through the day e.g. readings from Dickens and some scenes played out by the local 'am dram' groups and of course there is the Grand Parade. Over a hundred people with a couple of pipe/brass bands thrown in makes for a stirring sight indeed.
But really, that is it. After a couple of hours, despite the fair weather, we had had enough and legged it back home.

The creature stirs.....

2007-06-03T10:47:00.000+01:00

There is the faintest of chances that I may get off my recumbent arse and write something fairly soon.

2007-01-21T10:40:00.000Z

I nicked this from here. Couldn't resist.

Christmas: Crucified by do - gooders

2006-12-09T10:58:00.000Z

I read a superb article in yesterday's Telegraph advocating the decline of the traditional Christmas card.
Now correct me if I am wrong, but shouldn't Christmas cards portray Christmas greetings? Often I am confronted with "Season's Greetings" on a card. So am I meant to be having a happy winter then? It seems that the PC brigade are at it again, in their efforts not to upset ANYBODY unless of course you are a white, English law abiding citizen. I truly believe that we are now an ethnic minority within this country, therefore why are we not entitled to all the benefits offered to all other ethnic minorities?
I gave up enjoying Christmas years ago. Ask most kids of what they think Christmas is all about and they will scream at you, "PRESENTS" and not just two or three either. Doing our weekly shop this morning was a pain. Got there nice and early (I thought) about 8.30 but already the shop was filling up with Christmas shoppers pushing trollies with mounds of food of which most will get ditched. And there is still two weeks to go.
The stomach churning adds depicting a CD with some little angels singing Christmas carols for only £10.99 make me want to vomit. No correct that. Projectile vomit.
I am going to have to stop now, because I am winding myself up to a full blown rant and I don't think people are ready for that. Maybe after fucking Christmas, eh?
Bah bloody humbug.

more here....

Sad rail death

2006-12-09T10:37:00.000Z

On my local news last night there was a tragic story of a young girl who lost her life while taking a short cut home along a railway line.
The inquest gave a verdict of accidental death.
But no, the family are not happy with this. They are trying to sue Railtrack for allegedly not showing any warning signs indicating that the live rail was on the outside of the track.
I realise that the family are wracked with grief and are lashing out in their time of despair, but they have to understand that this girl was half pissed and walking beside a live railway line in the pitch darkness. A recipe for disaster if ever I saw one.
Everybody knows that you are taking a risk by walking along the track and there are always adequate signs indicating the hazards at level crossings.
The sooner they accept the fact that she took a risk whilst under the influence, the better for all concerned.
It saddens me that society has slipped into this compensation culture where it seems that everybody looks for someone to blame and to gain financially from it.
Accidents happen and always will.
Deal with it.

2006-12-05T17:04:00.000Z

Nowt really worth writing about at the moment, so I succumbed to one of these on-line 'What type are you?" thingies. If you're equally bored, have a go.

I knicked it from b. Go and visit her.

You are The Tower

Ambition, fighting, war, courage. Destruction, danger, fall, ruin.

The Tower represents war, destruction, but also spiritual renewal. Plans are disrupted. Your views and ideas will change as a result.

The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." You have been shaken up; blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Stormy weather

2006-12-03T13:35:00.000Z

What a howler last night. I don't know about you lot, but Kent had a humdinger of a storm. We lost a fence panel because of it. Well I say lost, when I actually mean flattened. So yours truly had to don waterproofs, boots et al and drag the thing back into the posts.
Considering our fence is over twenty years old, it doesn't do too badly. But would you believe it, the wind has dropped and the current bun is peering through the window. Batten down the hatches 'cos tonight they forecast some more of the same.

Where do they go?

2006-12-03T13:23:00.000Z

Whilst out walking Barney in howling winds and pissing rain, a thought struck me (right between the eyes, in fact). Where were all the squirrels that normally send my trusted hound bonkers taunting him to chase them up the trees?
Were they cowering in bus shelters?
Is there a communal Hobbit house where they all congregate and chat about the weather?
Had they gone away for the weekend to Ibiza, perhaps?
Maybe Secret Squirrel (remember him?) had enlisted them to track down some suspect radiation trails.
Wherever they were, it wasn't in our woods. Didn't stop Barney charging around like a dog possessed though.

Now this is what I call justice.

2006-12-02T14:20:00.000Z

A friend sent me this yesterday. Very interesting.

"TO THOSE OF YOU NOT FAMILIAR WITH JOE ARPAIO, HE IS THE MARICOPA COUNTY SHERIFF( ARIZONA ) AND HE KEEPS GETTING ELECTED OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

These are some of the reasons why:

Sheriff Joe Arpaio created the "tent city jail" to save Arizona from
spending tens of million of dollars on another expensive prison complex.

He has jail meals down to 40 cents a serving and charges the inmates for
them.

He banned smoking and porno magazines in the jails, and took away their
weightlifting equipment and cut off all but "G" movies. He says: "they're
in jail to pay a debt to society not to build muscles so they can assault
innocent people when they leave."

He started chain gangs to use the inmates to do free work on county and city
projects and save taxpayer's money.

Then he started chain gangs for women so he wouldn't get sued for
discrimination.

He took away cable TV until he found out there was a federal court order
that required cable TV for jails. So he hooked up the cable TV again but
only allows the Disney channel and the weather channel.

When asked why the weather channel he replied: "so these morons will know
how hot it's gonna be while they are working on my chain gangs."

He cut off coffee because it has zero nutritional value and is therefore a
waste of taxpayer money. When the inmates complained, he told them, "This
isn't the Ritz/Carlton. If you don't like it, don't come back."

He also bought the Newt Gingrich lecture series on US history that he pipes
into the jails. When asked by a reporter if he had any lecture series by a
Democrat, he replied that a democratic lecture series that actually tells
the truth for a change would be welcome and that it might even explain why
95% of the inmates were in his jails in the first place.

With temperatures being even hotter than usual in Phoenix (116 degrees just
set a new record for June 2nd), the Associated Press reports: About 2,000
inmates living in a barbed- wire-surrounded tent encampment at the Maricopa
County Jail have been given permission to strip down to their
government-issued pink boxer shorts.

On Wednesday, hundreds of men wearing pink boxer shorts were chatting in the tents, where temperatures reached 128 degrees."This is hell. It feels like
we live in a furnace," said Ernesto Gonzales, an inmate for 2
years with 10 more to go. "It's inhumane."

Joe Arpaio, who makes his prisoners wear pink, and eat bologna sandwiches,
is not one bit sympathetic. "Criminals should be punished for their crimes -
not live in luxury until it's time for parole, only to go out and commit
more crimes so they can come back in to live on taxpayers money and enjoy
things many taxpayers can't afford to have for themselves."

Wednesday he told all the inmates who were complaining of the heat in the
tents: "It's between 120 to 130 degrees in Iraq and our soldiers are living
in tents too, and they have to walk all day in the sun, wearing full
battle gear and get shot at, and they have not committed any crimes, so shut
your damned mouths!"

Way to go, Sheriff! If all prisons were like yours there would be a lot less
crime and we would not be in the current position of running out of prison spaces.

Sheriff Joe was just re-elected Sheriff in Maricopa County , Arizona"

Oh if only we could get away with that this side of the pond. The civil liberties groups would go apoplectic.

Daylight robbery

2006-12-01T15:05:00.000Z

We have just returned from the Post Office having sent off some Chrimbo pressies to the States.

For a box around eighteen inches square, I was fleeced for the amount of £61.

Yes, that's right. Sixty one quid for goods that amount to half that value.

No wonder the Post Office makes huge profits.

I an now going to lie down in a darkened room, with maybe a bottle of Scotch to keep me company.

Christmas?

Bah humbug........

England for the English

2006-11-26T10:36:00.001Z

For those of you like minded and very wise souls out there, today's Telegraph makes for some interesting reading . I am sure my fellow members of the Witanagemot club will lap it up.

Will it happen?

I doubt in my lifetime.

Get your dragon meat here

2006-11-26T10:25:00.000Z

I read an interesting post on here today. According to the Trading Standards wallies, the labeling of 'Red Dragon' sausages may indicate to the less streetwise of us that there could be actual dragon meat inside, when of course we all know that dragon meat comes in burger form only.

So that being the case, surely hot dogs should come under the same jurisdiction?

And what does that say for any 'Birds Eye' products?

Spotted Dick???

Hound from Hell

2006-11-25T12:23:00.000Z

We had a bit of a scare yesterday when we took Barney to have his booster at the vets, aka licensed bandits.
This bloke was sitting with his Staffordshire Terrier when we entered, which immediately went berserk at Barney's expense. Now Barney is a happy go lucky dog, who loves everyone. He will get on with most dogs he meets, no problem. For some reason, this evil dog really wanted to rip his throat out and nearly did. The man could obviously hardly restrain the beast and then it busted it's collar and went straight for poor old Barney. Mr's K was holding him at the time that all hell broke loose whilst I was trying to book him in at reception. The dog from hell actually got a grip on Barney's leg before it was pulled off and hastily dragged into the examination room. Fortunately the top vet actually witnessed it all and examined the now shaken Barney for any obvious injuries. Thankfully, no damage was done although he was obviously a little out of sorts, as was Mr's K and a couple of ladies in the waiting room. One even burst into tears over it.
Once peace and tranquility was restored and Barney was called for his jab, the nurse told us that the owner of the Hades fiend had been read the riot act over his dogs behaviour. It transpires that it was a rescue dog and he had only had it a couple of weeks . The problem with rescue dogs (except Barney, of course) is that you rarely have any idea of their previous owners. For all this bloke knew, his dog could have been trained to fight by some Neanderthal who thinks it makes him look 'ard with a 'staffy' on the end of a rope.
Anyway, Barney got his jab and a huge fuss was made of him and I was relieved of £46. Hence the "aka licensed bandits" quote.
And do you know what? That bloke never even apologised about his dogs behaviour

Told you so............

2006-11-20T06:44:00.001Z

It was blowing a bugger last night.

Leaves everywhere.

Leaf blowers

2006-11-19T10:23:00.000Z

WHY?

Whilst taking Barney for his morning walk, I came across our local council road sweeper. You know, the lorry with the rotating brush that crawls along at 0.3 mph clearing up life's detritus from the gutter. Following just behind the vehicle was a chap brandishing a leaf blower. There he was wearing the ubiquitous 'high-viz' tabard blowing all this Autumn's leaves onto the grass verge. As he sauntered on his merry way, the aforesaid leaves, with the help of a little breeze, drifted back onto the pathway. You could hear the little blighter's giggling at this poor unfortunates expense. The annoying thing about this little expose, is that the council, funded partly by moi, is probably paying this guy double time for turning out on a Sunday, for absolutely no purpose whatsoever.
The guy who invented this utterly useless contraption should be awarded something for having the foresight to con people out of their hard earned dosh to buy one of these machines in the forlorn hope that it may in fact, improve their lives.
I apologise forthwith to any of you who own a leaf blower. You meant well. Bless.

Mad Hatter strikes again

2006-11-14T11:52:00.000Z

So, on one hand Tony ~~Bliar~~ Blair sends troops out to Afghanistan to eradicate the drug problems of the world with the Taliban controlled poppy production and on the other he wants to compensate convicted criminals who have to experience the ordeal of ‘cold turkey’ whilst serving their sentence behind bars, caused by the dependence of aforementioned drugs.

“Tell you what Tone, why don’t we leave the Taliban to their evil trade and give the proceeds to these poor tormented souls undergoing cold turkey and then everyone would be happy, wouldn’t they?”

Well, every crack head and Taliban tribesman would.

Sod the law abiding public.

“Next time you are passing Mr Blair, I will bend over so you may shaft me personally just like you are shafting the rest of us decent citizens.”

PRICK

We will remember them

2006-11-11T08:16:00.000Z

For the Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is a music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncountered:
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end they remain.

Laurence Binyon

Small minority?

2006-11-09T19:05:00.000Z

A television reporter used the expression "a small minority".

Has anyone ever heard of a large minority?

And he is probably university educated.

Red or White?

2006-11-09T18:40:00.000Z

Now that Remembrance Sunday is fast approaching, we have the liberal do-gooders out in force attempting to promote the wearing of a white poppy in preference to the traditional red one.
Their argument is that wearing the red poppy glorifies war, whereas the white poppy encourages people to think of peace.
What a load of bollocks. The red poppy initially symbolised the blood spilt on the fields of Flanders, Paschendale, Somme and the like. Millions of these RED poppies grew on many battlefields after the First World War. We should never forget the ultimate sacrifice these men (and women) made for our country.
As an ex serviceman myself, I feel very strongly that our war dead, past and present are forgotten too quickly once peace is restored and if wearing a RED poppy is all it takes to jog peoples memory, then that is a small price to pay.
I make a point of buying my RED poppy from a war veteran just so that I can shake their hand and thank them personally for the contribution and sacrifice they made towards this country remaining free.
Once again, the nanny state rears it's ugly head in trying to suppress us from expressing our true feelings about which to them, is a touchy subject. You cannot hide from the fact that there will always be wars fought for whatever reason and wearing a RED poppy does not in any way glorify it. It always reminds me of the horrors of needless conflict that thankfully I have never had to experience.

In Flanders Fields
By John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row by row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard among the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If yea break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Double whopper whammy

2006-11-08T21:54:00.000Z

The cracks are starting to appear. I wondered how long it would take before Joe Public started to rebel against the healthy food fad that is currently ever present in the media.
Jamie Oliver certainly fuelled the fire started by the "Health Police". It has been reported that already the numbers of children attending the revolutionised school dinners, has dropped. And now this story is turning these well meaning people livid with rage.

When will they ever learn?

To quote an old phrase.

"You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink"

November flowers

2006-11-05T15:53:00.000Z

Biggles, eat your heart out.

2006-11-04T12:56:00.000Z

I had some great fun yesterday. A good friend of mine has recently earned his 'wings' and kindly invited me to have a little flight around Kent. I grabbed the opportunity right away. Flying has always fascinated me since I first took to the skies, but rushing around the airspace in a small light aircraft is so much better. Conveniently, we took off from Rochester Airport which is where 'work' is situated, so I didn't have far to travel to get airborne. The weather could not have been better. Light winds (good chance of the stomach staying where it is meant to be, then) and perfect visibility creating a beautiful, crisp autumnal day. The flight plan took us down to Seaford on the East Sussex coast whereupon we turned left and followed the shoreline around to Lydd Airport. After a quick cup of tea and some crisps, we returned to the air to continue onwards over Hastings, Folkestone and Dover before doing another left turn homeward bound. We landed just as the sun was setting. What an exhilarating flight. I want more.......

Of course I took the camera. Unfortunately, they are not in the order I took them, but you get a general idea of the trip.

Pictures here

The annual chestnut harvest

2006-10-28T13:28:00.000+01:00

Oh how I love Autumn. There seems to be an abundance of chestnuts this year. Maybe that indicates a hard winter. Who knows? The squirrels loss is my gain and there are plenty for everyone. I will be munching on these tonight whilst doing a superb impression of a couch potato.

Shepherd Neame given the finger

2006-10-25T20:11:00.000+01:00

Here's an article in our local paper that made me chuckle.

"Shepherd Neame has removed 'risque' wording from one of its beer adverts following a complaint which has been upheld by the Advertising Standards Authority.
The advertisement for Bishops Finger Ale showed a woman in a low-cut medieval costume sitting provocatively on a bale of hay."

I don't know what they are complaining about, for years this delicious ale has been affectionately known as 'Nun's Delight'

Full story here...

Murder in Royal park.....

2006-10-25T19:56:00.000+01:00

This story today really touches the heart. There was this pigeon going about his business in St.James park. You know, meeting his pigeon mates, pestering tourists and shitting all over the place, like pigeons do, When all of a sudden this pelican waddles along, scoops him up and swallows the poor bugger whole.

Bloody foreigners. Even our pigeons aren't safe.

Full story here...

Gnome heaven

2006-10-24T16:23:00.000+01:00

Walking through the wood the other day, I was amazed at the amount and variety of toadstools/mushrooms that had pushed their way through the leaf litter. The conditions are ideal I suppose with this damp atmosphere. Unfortunately, I didn't have the camera with me. Next time I will and hope to get a few shots off.

Watch this space.....

Meal for one, anyone?

2006-10-22T14:01:00.000+01:00

Mrs K has just flown off to the other side of the pond for three weeks. I am back in the land of bachelordom (I just made that word up).

I can eat what I like.
I can eat when I like.
I can wear what I like.
I can fart at ease.
I can shower for as long as I like.
I can go up the pub every night if I choose.

All these things I can do without fear of repercussions from 'she who must be obeyed'.

But you know what?

I'm missing her already.

"Got a light, Sir?"

2006-10-19T16:08:00.000+01:00

According to an article in today's newspapers, pupils as young as fourteen at Tinshill Learning Centre in Leeds can have a fag without being crafty about it. Only if they have a note from their parents though. But here is the good bit. The teaching staff are not permitted to smoke. Apparently the new policy is meant to help pupils stop smoking and reduce confrontations with teachers.

A spokesman for Education Leeds said: "We do everything to support our young people to make healthy lifestyle choices. Unfortunately, a number of young people who attend Tinshill do smoke and sometimes we have to take a special approach to a very serious problem.

"Their smoking did not begin at the centre and is not encouraged or condoned by us. We have introduced this trial to help them move from their dangerous habit towards a smoking cessation programme. This follows guidance from health professionals by bringing the problem out into the open, informing parents and carers of their child's habit."

What's that all about? They are depriving these poor urchins the thrill of that crafty fag behind the bike sheds. The surge of adrenalin as you light up within spitting distance of the enemy (Mr. Hall the R.E. teacher). The panic as the sound of heavy footsteps approaching necessitates much hand flapping to dissipate the smoke. Accordingly, the sale of Extra Strong Mints will plummet.

See blog title.....

Designer babies

2006-10-18T18:51:00.000+01:00

So Madonna has got herself some free publicity once more. What level will this woman sink to? The latest must have fashion accessory it seems is to swan about with a third world child on your arm. Sorry, on your nannies arm. God forbid that they will be seen with a puking, screaming shitting machine when the camera's are present.

Jan Moir puts it much more eloquently than me.

read on.....

Out of Europe

2006-10-16T21:06:00.000+01:00

For those of you who like me are fed up to the back teeth of Brussels trying to run our country and our lives.

Are thoroughly pissed off with faceless, overpaid bureaucrats determining our laws and customs.

Bloody annoyed with political correctness motivated by people alien to this wonderful country, England.

Check out 'speakout' and add your name to the majority of people in England who want out of Europe.

What a lovely lady

2006-10-16T17:02:00.000+01:00

My faith in human nature has been restored. Well, for a little while anyway. I received a letter the other day from my insurance company informing me that as I had cancelled my direct debit for my car insurance, I was in arrears and the sum owed must be paid by the end of the month. I would also incur a £25 penalty charge.

"BASTARDS"

And then I thought.

"Wasn't I checking my bank account the other week and isn't there a possibility that I deleted my car insurance payments?"

After a quick check, I had indeed inadvertently binned the direct debit concerned. Yet another Senior Moment in my life.

A groveling phone call ensued, where I told a sob story with such feeling and sincerity, Shakespeare himself would have been proud of my performance. The lovely lady not only laughed at my feeble attempts at self deprecating humour, but actually waived the £25 surcharge as I had made a "genuine mistake".

I could have kissed her. I didn't catch her name, but the wonderful woman manning the phones on the 'its4me' helpline should just take a minute to congratulate herself on making a silly old sods day that little bit happier.

"Spam & eggs. Spam and beans,. Spam spam spam spam spam"

2006-10-13T17:32:00.000+01:00

Is it me, or am I the only poor soul who is under severe spam attack?

I currently use Mailwasher to infiltrate and bin all spurious emails that I receive. Your selected spam is blacklisted and bounced back to the villainous little shits that sent it in the first place.

Over the last couple of weeks I have received an increasing amount of offers to enlarge my penis, improve my lovelife and buy Viagra in bulk for a discounted price. I am pretty certain I require none of these advantages offered to me so they get bounced. But still they keep coming.

Does anybody out there know of any (preferably free) software available that stops this crap, at source?

Spooky, or what?

2006-10-13T16:52:00.000+01:00

It has been a challenging day, today.

I cocked up at work, which could have pushed the defence budget over the edge.
Whilst wrestling with an obstinate glue tube, I succeeded in squirting said super glue all over my jeans.
Received a letter informing me that I had an overdue payment on my car insurance and that they are charging me an extra £25 for being a naughty boy. I had inadvertently cancelled the direct debit. Another senior moment.
Could not get through on their "24 hour help line" and when I eventually did, you guessed it, I was put on hold for the next millennium.
Our internet connection keeps dropping off.
Suspected phone plug as the internet fault. Bought a new one. Even worse. Put the old one back. Works a treat.
Walked outside and promptly trod on one of Barney's finest (turds that is).

But am I bitter?

You're bloody right I am.

And if anybody smugly informs me that it is Friday 13th, I shall "skweem, skweem, skweem until I am sick".

By the way. I crawled under a black cat this afternoon, so I think I am alright now.

A day out in the city

2006-10-06T11:14:00.000+01:00

I have had a week off this week and on Wednesday Mrs K and I traveled up to the big city for a day out and this time, we took our own grub. The price of food in London is horrendous. Just a couple of sarnies with coffee/tea would put a serious dent in the national budget.
So with my knapsack on my back we took the 09:54 to Victoria. Not wanting my lug'oles to be assailed by several trilling ring tones and shouts of, "Yeah, I'm on the train", I wisely had Eric Clapton soothing me on our forty five minute journey.
On arrival, straight down onto the tube to Lambeth North via the Embankment.
We love traveling on the tube. The fact that once on the platform, within a couple of minutes you are being whisked away to some far flung corner of London, is very satisfying. And it is so easy, though Mrs K would dispute that.
Our destination was the Imperial War Museum. Now I had last visited this place when I was a young strapping lad who was still in awe of the second world war. As we stepped inside, I immediately started reeling off the names of all the exhibits in the entrance hall.
Spitfire, Sherman tank, 8mm Howitzer etc. etc. These were all the things I grew up with when we used to play war games.
The highlight of the museum was the Holocaust exhibition situated on the top floor. This is a must see for anybody and I would recommend the youth of today come and visit this exhibition.
It doesn't do any harm to be reminded of mans inhumanities towards man. The pictures, artifacts and letters are compelling viewing no matter how shocking.
Strangely they have put an age limit of fourteen to visit. I think you can never be too young to see this.
We were so engrossed, that we didn't have time to visit the Victoria & Albert Museum, which was our intention, so we took our time and walked back to Victoria Station along the Embankment opposite the Houses of Parliament. A beautiful sight since it has been spruced up.
We sat for a while beside Westminster Abbey and people watched. Everybody is in such a hurry in London and aren't there so many strange types?
A man with grey tousled hair and a magpies feather in it rode by. A battered old candlestick strapped to his bike. He rode with great purpose. The man deserved a medal for riding a bike in London as far as I'm concerned.
Once on the train, I was shocked to realise that I had lost a channel on my MP3. Eric was only coming through one ear, so I had to endure "Yes, I'm on my way home now" from several wankers who felt compelled to shout to their beloved ones continually about the state of their day/journey. They can't have anything to talk about when they get home. It's all been said on the bloody train.

Back home. Knackered. We're not getting any younger and it shows.

What price religion?

2006-10-06T10:21:00.000+01:00

The recent, but unfortunately, uncommon incident over in the States with those poor little school girls has once again prompted discussion over gun law the other side of the pond.
With Mrs K being a member of one of our former colonies, this entails some interesting discussion.
She argues that.
"American citizens have the right to bear arms to defend themselves" and she also adds that "If they didn't use guns, they would use something else, like a knife for instance."
Now this is where I believe the argument falls over a tad. To actually, physically thrust a knife into living flesh is a lot different than pulling the trigger of a gun.
Sure, there are incidents recorded of these events, but they are minimal compared to gun deaths.
The man was a nutter, that is obvious. The world will always have nutters prepared to do inexplicable things to other members of the human race. As a member of that club (the human race, I mean) I have to accept that these people exist and we will continue hearing these appalling stories once in a while.
My heart goes out to the Amish community that this incident has obviously devastated. These are a peaceful people who live their lives to a strict doctrine and I have no problem with that, but once again, the root of all this death is religion. The perpretator of this crime said he was "angry with god".
Maybe we should ban all religions? Look at all the current and past confrontations that are fought over conflicting beliefs. Too numerous to mention.

The darker side of Autumn

2006-10-03T11:56:00.000+01:00

There are a little known band of insurgents around our way who are rarely heard of. They are usually more active around this time of the year.
The time of the year when the days are getting that little bit chillier and you find yourself slipping a jumper over the T-shirt when going outside.
Summer flowers are shedding the last of their pretty heads.
The trees lose their leaves like I lose my memory.
Political parties have their annual mutual back slapping farce.
Days are getting shorter and the shops are filling up with Christmas (aarrgghh!!!!) goodies.
This is the time of the year when the wood elves are at their most mischievous.
I kid you not and you may well indeed mock, but open entering that feared and mysterious dark place called East Hoath Woods beware the elves at work.
Last week it was an acorn.
Yesterday a sweet chestnut was the preferred weapon of limited destruction i.e. a few brain cells.
You know that Autumn has indeed arrived, when foreign objects pepper your bonce from above, courtesy of the wood elves.
I know it's them because I never catch sight of them and I am sure I heard some giggling when the spiny chestnut hit its target.
They cannot hide forever.
My day will come..............(much cackling ensues).

Cars. Can't live with 'em. Can't do without 'em

2006-09-27T17:14:00.000+01:00

As the black mist slowly cleared and once more I returned to reality, I discovered that the shock induced coma I have been experiencing these last few weeks, was at last subsiding.
The reason behind my vegative state was my car, or should I say a part of my car.
Recently, the baffles had gone tits up in the exhaust and I was constantly hearing a bloody irritating rattle all the time the car was being driven. I tentatively enquired at my local tyre/exhaust centre about the cost of a replacement silencer.
"Can't just fit a silencer, mate. It comes with the rear pipe as well"
"Ok, I muttered, nervously. How much is that going to sting me for?"
The ubiquitous sharp intake of breath ensued and after much bashing of keyboards and consulting of oily parts manuals.
"That'll be £130 mate"
He wasn't my mate, but what the hell, friends are hard to come by. This was about what I was expecting. Being a Japanese car, parts are a little more expensive than say, a Dagenham Donkey.
Next day the car is ramped up and I am ushered into the 'waiting room' consisting of a telly with a screen smaller than my mobile and free brown shit they laughingly called, coffee. Half way through the Sudoku that was doing my head in, a face appeared at the door.
"You got a second, mate" (we were gettin really chummy by now).
Now don't we all dread it when the mechanic asks that question.
1. You know something is wrong.
2. It's going to cost more.
"Your cat's knackered mate"
And sure enough, there it was, hanging on by the mearest sliver of rust.
Back to the computer/oily manual.
"Including fitting and a two year guarantee, that'll be £350 in total, mate" (knocked him down to £320).
I don't know if I struck my head when I fainted, but it was sure throbbing by then.
Couple of days later, the cat (catalytic converter for the uninitiated) is fitted and the car purrs as I drive away.
Not for long.
The exhaust is blowing.
"New front pipe, mate"
An extra £130.
Comatose

We will return

2006-09-12T17:47:00.000+01:00

Krip and Alice are currently vegetating.

You've all been there.

We just don't have anything to say.

Be assured.

We will soon. I hope

PC Plod, where are you?

2006-08-22T15:57:00.000+01:00

So there we were keenly waiting for the next enthralling episode of Emmerdale, when I espied some skullduggery afoot from our lounge window.

At the rear of our garden past the bomb site that was once a small wood, is a little stretch of woodland which borders a main road linking to the M2. There suddenly appeared two shady characters dressed in identical dark track suits from the direction of the road. What they were up to and why in fact they were there, was a mystery. They disappeared back into the foliage amidst much rustling and thrashing about.

"This is a job for the Old Bill", I thought.

Being a fine upstanding citizen, I rang 999 and gave the operator a running commentary of what was occurring in front of my eyes.

After taking my details and an abridged version of events, the man told me he would contact a patrol in our area.

Did they arrive sirens blaring amidst screeching of tyres? Did they bollocks. In fact, they never showed up at all.

Not even a return phone call.

Bugger all.

And they wonder why Joe Public has lost all confidence in the police force.

Maybe if I had said they were bearded dark skinned men with long flowing robes, it might have encouraged a more serious approach to our cry for help.

Oops. Now I will have the 'PC' police down on me like a ton of bricks.

Good for you girl

2006-08-02T18:56:00.000+01:00

For those of us fed up to the back teeth with all the killing and destruction in the name of Islam, I ask you to take a few minutes and listen to what this brave woman has to say.

She is an Arab lady whose medical professor was murdered in cold blood in 1979 by the Muslim Brotherhood and currently resides in the U.S.

A good blogging friend sent it to me and it gives you great heart that there are still people in this world prepared to stand up to these fanatical bullies.

Paste this "www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WLoasfOLpQ" into your browser.

"Wake up this morning..............."

2006-07-27T20:03:00.000+01:00

Listening to the radio on the way to work this morning and that old classic The Israelites by Desmond Dekker came on.

Can anybody tell me what the hell he is singing about?

"Environmental Agency employee saved from certain drowning"

2006-07-27T19:52:00.000+01:00

Whilst watching my regional TV news show tonight, I was interested in an article they were showing concerning improving the flow of the river Dour situated in Dover.

A representative of the Environment Agency was at hand to answer the reporters questions.

Get this. The man was standing in a foot of water, yes a foot (as were all his colleagues that were working on the project)with a bloody lifejacket on.

I could not belieeeeeeve it.

A perfect example of Health and Safety gone bonkers.

See blog title.

A summers morn

2006-07-22T11:11:00.000+01:00

I took this picture at five thirty a.m. last week whilst taking Barney for his morning constitutional in our local wood.

It sums up everything I love about summer on this sceptred isle.

Good, isn't it?

Birds Eye had better watch its back

2006-07-22T10:48:00.000+01:00

And Fray Bentos will no doubt be trembling in their boots after glimpsing the fruits of my labours.
Two pea seeds in a couple of feet of soil produced all these babies.
Could I have found my true purpose in life? To be a pea mogul is surely my destiny.
"Whatever next", I hear you cry?
Tomatoes, onions or maybe even broad beans?

The world is my oyster.

No one can stop me now.

Today peas, tomorrow the world. HA HA HAAAAAAAA.

I think I had better go and lie down for a while

Poetic justice

2006-07-09T11:28:00.000+01:00

I just had to bring to everyone's attention Patrick Barclays article in today's Sunday Telegraph involving a Portuguese journalist at the England v Portugal match.

Although my friend [said journalist] has media accreditation,he had bought tickets for the England-Portugal match so he and his son could sit together in their national colours. They were on the edge of a Portuguese section, overlooked by a dozen Englishmen behaving loutishly. For an hour the swearing and insults were tedious more than anything else, but then Rooney was dispatched and the louts' mood worsened. Suddenly the Portuguese were showered with beer until one of their number, who had noticed an Englishman copiously urinating into a plastic pint-pot moments earlier, warned them not to touch it.

At this point my friend ran out of patience. He asked a steward for help and shortly a female police officer arrived. Once the culprit had been identified, the officer approached him, pointed under his seat to his pint-pot, in which about a third of the amber liquid remained, and asked him what it contained. "Beer," he said. She told him to drink it. He protested that he had done nothing wrong and, reaching for the injured innocence that is the first refuge of such scoundrels, swore that the offence to which she was no doubt referring had been committed by a stranger who had just scarpered.

"Just drink your beer," she said "or you'll be leaving the match with me." He could see that she meant it and, grimacing, downed the stuff in one before stalking off to escape further humiliation.

What a star that police officer was. How I would have loved to have seen the face of the perpretator of that disgusting act. Mind you, given the performance of our boys in the tournament, I don't think I would be tempted to drink my own piss just to stay and watch the game. That IS taking the piss, that is.

Could you envisage one of our boys in blue performing the same actions? In this PC state we now live in. I think not.

I believe Germany did a superb job at what must arguably be the best staged World Cup we have currently witnessed. Must rush out and get some sauerkraut and bratwurst for me tea in honour of a job well done.

Discovering a little gem

2006-07-08T11:29:00.000+01:00

On returning home from Barneys walk earlier in the week, Mrs.K excitedly dragged me outside for a little surprise. No, not that sort of surprise.

She had heard a loud thud against our lounge window and on inspection outside, discovered a tiny little bird which had obviously just tried to fly through it. Probably being chased by our resident kestrel that patrols this area.

To my utter joy, it was a fledgling Goldcrest. This is a rare sight indeed around these parts. I have seen the occasional one in the trees that were behind us, but never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would get up close and personal with a little treasure.

Many people wrongly believe that our 'Jenny Wren' is Britain's smallest bird. The Goldcrest, closely followed by its much rarer cousin the Firecrest, has this honour.

The little blighter was obviously stunned, so we procured the standard shoe box with a small piece of cloth and place it in there to give it time to recover. The dark always calms birds down.

"Give it half an hour and we will see how it is" I expertly cried.

Armed with camera thirty minutes later we opened the box to find - nothing. A hole of around half inch diameter was sufficiently big enough to allow him to escape, obviously fully recovered.

It all happens down here in Kent you know.

A true hot dog

2006-07-04T10:17:00.000+01:00

This was Barneys solution to cooling down after his morning squirrel chase in the woods.

Can't say that the fish were too impressed though.

HMS Dido sails once more

2006-07-01T09:59:00.000+01:00

Over the last year or so, an old shipmate of mine from my first ship (see above) has been attempting to track down as many of our messmates for a reunion. Now what started as a possible meet somewhere in the middle of this sceptred isle for a few bevvies and sea stories, snowballed into a full blown bash with formal dinner and cabaret et al.

During the second world war, those fine citizens of Bolton scraped together enough dosh to build the light cruiser of the same name which fought in WW2. Subsequently, when the Leander class frigate was built in '63, the town took us under their wing and basically adopted the ship.

1971 was the year I joined what was to be the best ship I served on. Great bunch of lads and the officers weren't bad either. In '73 we visited Bolton via Bootle docks and the local populace welcomed us with open arms, especially the ladies of the town. There were a few broken hearts and several friendships were formed. We were given the freedom of the borough, which entitled us to march through the streets with bayonets fixed. Stirring stuff eh? A dance was laid on at the Palais where the girls outnumbered all of us sex starved matelots. Boy, did we have fun that night.

I digress. So a reunion was planned at Bolton last weekend. It was great to once more 'swing the lamp' with some of my old oppo's. We even managed to track down our old skipper and first lieutenant. Accomodation was provided at the Holiday Inn. What a rip off. Here was I thinking that by going oop north, that the ale would be cheaper. £3.5p a bloody pint!!!! As we were captive customers within the hotel, you didn't have a choice to go to the nearest boozer. Note for next reunion....

A reception and tour of the town hall was arranged followed by a dinner and entertainment by an old blast from the past, Shep Wooley. He was a serving sailor in the seventies and gained quite a reputation as a singer/comedian around all the local pubs in Pompey at the time. All the old favourites were blasted out and great fun was had by all. A special mention to Bolton council who did a splendid job in organising everything and ensuring the whole weekend ran like clockwork - well almost.

We formed an official HMS Dido Association and hopefully we will manage to contact some more shipmates for next years do which is taking place in Pompey (Portsmouth). A bit closer to home for us down south.

So, if anyone out there knows of any ex-shipmates of either of the HMS Dido's, get them to log on to our website.

Blooming summer

2006-06-21T16:10:00.000+01:00

We only have a small garden, but the diversity of plants is magnificent.

We really love this time of year, short lived tho it is.

Only 64%?

2006-06-19T20:18:00.000+01:00

You Are 64% Cynical

You're a full blown cynic... and probably even skeptical of these results.
You have your optimistic moments, but most likely you keep them to yourself.

How Cynical Are You?

Everyone know's that these survey type thingies are all bollocks ;)

Nuisance calls

2006-06-16T20:38:00.000+01:00

After reading birdmans post about the nuisance calls that can be the bane of our lives, I thought I had better bring to everyone's attention the usefulness of signing up with the Telephone Preference Service.

Once we had joined, after a short wait of around 28 days, the pain in the rectum calls all but dried up completely and if you do get one, politely tell the caller that you are under the protection of the Telephone Preference Service and that by ringing this number, they are breaking the law.

It puts the fear of shit up them and you never hear from then again.

Go on. It only takes a few minutes and it is free.

The true flag of England

2006-06-14T16:51:00.000+01:00

For all you flag of St.George wavers, this is the real flag of England.

If memory serves me correctly, the choosing of St.George was influenced by the Crusades and a little bit of French persuasion methinks around the end of the eleventh century. I am sure I will be corrected if I am wrong.

St.Edmund the Martyr was our boy during the good old Anglo-Saxon days pre William the Conk.

So forget cheering on that foreign imposter George and raise the cry for that good old Anglo-Saxon and true Englishman Eddie the Martyr. It's got a better ring to it as well, hasn't it?

No more red cross, bring on the White Dragon for the lads.

Whiteboard v Blackboard

2006-06-14T16:29:00.000+01:00

Apparently there is a new phenomenon sweeping our schools these days. Enter the 'Interactive Whiteboard'. This is the latest piece of wizardy designed to make learning in the classroom easier for today's up and coming Einsteins.

According to this article, they are not as popular and brilliant a conception that was first thought. Out of curiosity, I Googled 'Whiteboard' and discovered that they are not "cheap as chips". Far from it. They are bloody expensive.

What is wrong with the tried and tested blackboard and chalk? Call me an old fart if you like, but it presents the facts just like these new fangled whiteboards at a fraction of the cost. Does this mean that today's little angels can no longer expect a well aimed chalk smacking them between the eyes? No more blackboard rubber bouncing off their delicate craniums? Alas, I think the nanny police are at work once more.

When we have reached the age of kids sharing books, if indeed they have any at all, how can the expense of these state of the art gizmo's be justified?

Just another example of the world gone mad in the nanny state currently called England.

N.B. Are we allowed to call it a whiteboard, or indeed the old blackboard? Surely this implies racist tendencies?

The English obsession with bank holiday outings.

2006-05-30T16:22:00.000+01:00

So it's Bank Holiday Monday and little'un is home.

"Let's go out somewhere"

"Where?"

"What about visiting Wildwood and looking at the animals?"

"Yeahhhhh..."

Waterproofs in the car and off we go. As is expected, it starts pissing down as soon as we set off. Not to worry, one of us is English and this is what we do on Bank Holidays, whatever the weather.

We arrive at the sea of mud called Wildwood, just down the road from Canterbury. After being relieved of a second mortgage, we enter the sea of mud and saw:

An Adder lying in mud.
Red Deer walking in mud.
Wolves playing in mud.
Wild Boar adding to the mud.

All in all we saw very little wildlife, but a hell of a lot of mud. Most of the little beasties were tucked up in the warm and dry and what we did see had a fascination for mud. Needless to say, it was not an altogether successful outing, so we headed off for a pub lunch and found this delightful inn in a little village called Westbere which is situated just North of Canterbury. And of course, the sun came out.

Good food, great real ales and a charming host. What more could you want to end the day?

Shame about the mud, though.

The scientific approach is best

2006-05-29T10:28:00.000+01:00

For all those 'animal activists' I wound up with my last post, this article might help to redress the balance.

Animal Rights Activists. Are they losing the plot?

2006-05-29T09:39:00.000+01:00

Yep, I think that most of us upstanding, law abiding (occasionally) citizens are just getting a tad tired of these nutters who go around terrifying innocent people in the name of animal welfare.

If that is what you think they are 'fighting' for, then my dog doesn't lick his balls.

I abhor any violence or cruelty to any animal, apart from several people I could name, but to repeat an oft mentioned subject relating to this matter, you only have to observe the advantages that diabetics have gained through modern drugs that were invented with the aid of animal research.

Take this scenario.

1. An 'animal activist' couple have a beautiful child which they obviously love dearly.
2. That child succumbs to a terminal illness.
3. The only way to alleviate the child's suffering is to administer drugs that were devised by the use of animal research.

I hope this never happens, but the choice is obvious.

What say your beliefs if this was the predicament that any of us could face?

We do not live in Utopia. Sometimes we have to make tough decisions on sensistive issues. I hate the idea of any animal suffering pain in the search for a better quality of life for my fellow human beings, but these decisions have to be made whether we like them, or not.

Time to go

2006-05-29T08:50:00.000+01:00

Isn't it about time that 'Jabba the Hutt' departed this government once and for all?

Aren't we all just a little pissed off with seeing that fat smug bastard grinning at us from every available media? The man is just an over hyped, overweight ex union official who is constantly sticking his fingers up at those he is meant to represent. I personally cannot stand the fat git.

So "Piss off Prescott" and make this country a better place to wake up to each morning.

P.S. Think about it. Have you ever seen Jabba the Hutt and John Prescott in the same room together. Ah ha! There you have it.

Getting your priorities right

2006-05-19T16:44:00.000+01:00

Only just over a week to go and my eleven year old step-daughter arrives from the States for her summer visit, so I am frantically trying to organise a trip to Alton Towers/Thorpe Park etc. Getting in a pile of junk food and browsing games websites for the latest PS2 releases.

Right, that's me organized, now about the little 'un......

Stop press......

2006-05-15T20:09:00.000+01:00

The car sailed through its M.O.T. test, so guess where I will be visiting next year just before the fateful day?

Brighton Rock

2006-05-15T19:47:00.000+01:00

With the M.O.T. test due on Monday and me panicking about the motor failing on emissions, I was advised to take the car on a good long run giving it stacks of welly. Apparently, this cleans out the catalytic converter. A good excuse to visit Brighton for the day.

Now Brighton is around seventy miles from us and we made it in just over an hour. I gave it some welly. We spent half as much time again trying to park and then getting out of the bloody car park.

The Brighton festival was in progress, although all we saw were a few Morris dancers and a couple of street entertainers. I think most of the action is in the evening. Whilst admiring some of the wonderful regency architecture typical of Brighton, we noticed a sign inviting an open house. It was actually a local artist displaying their pottery, but Mrs k was just interested in mooching around one if these gorgeous buildings. Bit of a disappointment actually as most of them have been split up into studio/flats, thus spoiling their original interiors.

The sun graced us with its presence for a while and we enjoyed a lovely stroll along the prom. Tiddly-om-pom-pom. Visited 'The Lanes' and had a wander on the only remaining pier. I took a few pictures, but the day was pretty grey which didn't inspire me to be too creative. My favourite is the one of the little sweet shop.

Suitably knackered and paying a second mortgage for the parking we flew back home. It was great to get back and put our feet up with a lovely cup of tea/coffee.

I can't bear it..............

2006-05-11T20:06:00.000+01:00

I can feel the tension mounting.

Trouble sleeping.

Sweaty palms.

Constant state of anxiety.

Nails chewed to the bone.

Yes it's that time of year again. My faithful, trusty old car goes for its M.O.T. on Monday. Thirteen years young it is and still going strong. Last year it scraped through the emissions test by the skin of its tyres, so it's fingers crossed all around please or I may well be riding Shanks's Pony pretty soon.

2006-05-10T09:54:00.000+01:00

Oh deep joy.
My peas are emerging.
I can't stand the excitement.

Now all that I need is a cow for the steak and an endless supply of chips.

Back down to earth

2006-05-10T09:48:00.000+01:00

Oh well, the great British weather has put the mockers on our flight to the Isle of Wight today, so we are having a day out in France via Eurotunnel.

No doubt Mrs k will be relishing the thought of tucking into snails again. Mussels, fine. I'm even partial to the odd tub of cockles, but snails . Somehow I think not.

Come fly with me

2006-05-09T17:36:00.000+01:00

One of life's pleasures happens tomorrow. I am having a day off work.

Yippee.........

And even better, the job I have been working on is a shitter and someone else has to take it over tonight and tomorrow. Hopefully, it will be done when I go back on Thursday.

As a birthday treat, myself and Mrs.K are being flown to the Isle of Wight for a spot of lunch. Oohhhhhh, aren't we posh. This was sprung on me by a couple of good friends of mine. Totally gobsmacked or what? We're just praying that the weather will be fine.

The camera is coming, so hopefully we will get some good shots.

P.S. Do you like the plane we are going in? ;)

P.P.S. Do you know what it is? (come on b, it's a doddle)

2006-05-06T12:57:00.000+01:00

Watched a great movie last night. It was Oh Brother, Where Art Thou featuring among others, George Clooney in a role you would hardly expect to find him playing.

The film is loosely based on the Greek classic 'Homer's Odyssey' and features same great comedic scenes involving the three principal characters in their quest to break from jail and reclaim their stash of loot.

I am not a great movie buff, but I do love any film directed by either one or both of the Coen brothers. So far we have watched Fargo, the Great Lebowski, Blood Simple and Oh Brother. All brilliant movies in their own right.

I was blown away by the soundtrack to this movie. Pure Bluegrass where Clooney actually sings some of the songs.

Where has it all gone?

2006-04-30T13:45:00.000+01:00

Whoaaa there. I had to stop yesterday for a reality check.

Am I really sliding down the slippery slope to senility?

As a registered old fart, I find my outlook on life varies considerably from when I was a young, virile renegade with not a care in the world.

Recently, I planted some onions in a trough on the patio. So what's the big deal, you may ask? Well I actually make a point of everyday checking on the progress of said onions to admire my handiwork. I became quite excited upon seeing the first signs of growth.

"I became quite excited upon seeing the first signs of growth."

There lies my problem dear reader. Going orgasmic over some onions.

Oh where has that long haired, afghan wearing rebel gone to? The one who used to play progressive rock (70's heavy metal for the uninitiated) so loud it made your ears bleed, but at the same time piss off the old man. Who smothered himself in Petchouli oil to attract members of the opposite sex (it rarely worked as it smelt of cats piss). Who tottered around on dangerously high platform boots which would never pass Health & Safety in today's nanny state. And wore flares that you could house a family in - comfortably.

He's quietly residing in suburbia losing his teeth, hair and memory but getting his kicks out of growing veg. Alas, I fear there is no hope. 'cos I planted some peas yesterday and I can already feel the first tremors of exhilaration.

It's official, Spring has arrived

2006-04-27T15:49:00.000+01:00

Walking into work today, I saw and heard the first skylark of the year as she soared above the local airfield.

And would you believe it, a wasp was banging its head against our window yesterday.

Question: What is the point of wasps?

Talk Talk my arse

2006-04-23T12:24:00.000+01:00

Whilst indulging in the regular custom of putting the world to rights over some hop juice last night, the subject of Talk Talks 'free broadband for life' cropped up.

A couple of us had been toying with the idea. I mean, free calls to the U.S. would be brilliant for us, as Mrs k daily rings little one in the States. You must have seen the ad where they have groups of people portraying a phone/keyboard etc. The promise was for just £20.99 you have unlimited calls and free broadband. Sound too good to be true?
You're damn right it did. So, this morning I did a little detective work. Logged onto their site and yes, everything they said was true, but being a cynical bastard like I am, I typed "TalkTalk problems" into Google. This is just an example of peoples experience of TalkTalk.

Consequently, the chances of me switching ISP to Talk~~Shit~~Talk are as slim as a Twiglet with all the knobs off.

England expects....

2006-04-23T11:44:00.000+01:00

Today is the day when all true Englishmen (and women) should rejoice at the fact of being born in this wonderful country.

To pinch a quote via "we are the English.com",

cecil john rhodes (1853-1902)

"Ask any man what nationality he would prefer to be, and ninety nine out of a hundred will tell you that they would prefer to be Englishmen".

Boy, were we lucky, or what?

A true gentleman

2006-04-20T16:38:00.000+01:00

Many West Ham fans like myself will be saddened to hear of the sudden death of John Lyall. A true gentleman from the game of football who tragically died within two months of his mentor, Ron Greenwood.

The game has lost two rarities the like we may possibly never see again. Honest managers who played the game with fairness and sportsmanship. Traits sadly lacking with today's money/media obsessed players.

Wherever they have gone, it will be a better place.

R.I.P. Gentlemen and Come on you Irons.

What better incentive can West Ham have to lift the F.A.Cup this year

Nelson will be spinning in his grave

2006-04-18T16:54:00.000+01:00

Where once these mighty oaks were felled for the building of men o' war to thrash the cheese eating surrender monkeys, they are now hacked down in their prime for pure profit.

Yesterday, this colossal oak that has cast its shadow over our garden for over twenty years, is no more. Brutally chopped down to make way for a five bedroomed house. The only consolation is that I have made the developer sweat it out over the last six years, which has cost him no small amount of dosh in legal and architect fees.

Mrs K was in tears as the tree fellers moved in and it was her who recorded its demise that you can view on this page. She is convinced all the wildlife will disappear, although I have assured her they will keep on coming as long as we put out some grub for them.

So now we have got to look forward to a summer of building works right slap bang behind us. My fingers will be hovering over the phone in readiness to alert the Environmental Agency the minute they step out of line.

They may have won the battle, but the war goes on.

Nelson expects and it is the least I can do.

West Ham win again

2006-04-17T10:17:00.000+01:00

Just to prove that Shaun Newton does actually know where the net is.

Cracking goal.

COME ON YOU IRONS

Sunday Afternoon driver

2006-04-17T09:33:00.000+01:00

Yes, for one day only, I became that oft despised pain in the arse, the Sunday Afternoon Driver. Albeit without the traditional flat cap commonly donned by the fifty something old fart poodling along the country lanes pointing out local beauty spots to his blue rinsed doddering old missus.

Now, Mrs K (who definitely does not have a blue rinse) and I decided to take advantage of that little yellow thing in the sky that threatened to shine on us all day. It didn't, but what the heck, we risked going out anyway.

Teneterden was our chosen destination. Driving through some of the more picturesque parts of Kent allowed Mrs. K to ooh and ahh at all the country houses that we would certainly buy upon winning the Lotto.

The sun still shone when we arrived, allowing us the opportunity to meander along the main drag nosing around the obligatory antique shops which regularly haunt these country towns.

After a while, a distinct rumbling noise was heard. Our stomachs were telling us to fill 'em up. Lunch was taken at the White Lion.

A nice pub with all the beams etc. And good grub too. Suitably refreshed,it was back in the car and off to Hastings. Big mistake. Upon arriving at the outskirts of town, we fell upon a long queue of like minded souls trying to get in. When we did eventually arrive on the sea front, we promptly kept on going. The sun had gone in and the wind had got up, so we headed back home. Lots more oohs and aahs from Mrs K.

At this time of the year, Kent really does live up to its name as the Garden of England.