Wednesday, 2 March 2011

Traffic calming...

You're in a car. 
The road ahead of you narrows, and there's a queue immediately beyond that, clearly there's a hold up ahead.
Do you, a) wait before the narrow bit so that the unimpeded oncoming traffic can still get through, or b) drive in to the narrow bit, imagining that this somehow gets you ahead, regardless of the fact that you are now, for absolutely no good reason, blocking the way for oncoming traffic.
Which is it?
B), you fucking dick, why? How does it help anyone? No-one can get infront of you if you wait, you're not going to get anywhere any quicker. You've just made a few people needlessly late to pick their children up from school, to get to an interview, to get to the doctor's appointment they've waited 3 months for. 
They all hate you, and so they should. You should be made into a traffic calming measure; a speed bump, where the calming comes about when people get to drive over your ridiculous, selfish head, gradually driving home the idea that a bit of fucking foresight might help everyone, including you.

Monday, 28 February 2011

Without any trace of irony

An unedited and brief twittering that I had with Guido 'the only man to enter parliament with honest intention' Fawkes, whose intention seems to be to out-Tory the Tories.

The line that Guido was de-ironising was;
“We’ve had enough of people going into politics for self-aggrandisement.”
Guido Fawkes
Quote of the Day: Without any trace of irony Chuka Umunna says… “We’ve had enough of people going into politics ...
Somewhat unlikely
@ Sounds perfectly reasonable. You seem to thrive on specious reaction to anything anyone left says.
Somewhat unlikely
@ You did know that I was saying that your reaction tends to be the specious bit?

Somewhat unlikely
@ Are you bovvered if the majority of your rants against the left are baseless arse gravy? I don't know, are you?

So, then. What can one make of that? What I've decided to do is conclude that GF agrees that his reaction to what anyone from the left says is specious, and that they are baseless arse gravy. This is probably less specious than his suggestion that Chuka Umunna, while seemingly bemoaning political career choice as a bolster to self-importance, is clearly only in politics to gain importance.

Alternatively, it could also mean that;

a) he doesn't care
b) he thought I meant that Chuka was being specious
c) he doesn't know what specious means. Maybe he thinks I said 'special'.

Friday, 25 February 2011

Three is a whole five!

Look! Maths!

Alistair Tebbit, from the Institute of Directors, told Channel 4 News "we have some sympathy for the protesters".

But he added: "UK corporation tax rate is currently 28 per cent while the EU's average is 25 per cent, a whole 5 per cent difference. That is why companies are moving abroad because in the global economy the numbers always win."

That's right. Not only would Philip 'government advisor' Green happily pay full UK taxes, including on his £1.2Billion pay packet to his Monaco-based wife, if we brought UK Corp tax down to 25%, but 28 minus 25 equals 5, and you're an idiot if you don't understand that...

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

The Fresh Prints of Bailiff-Care

Now this is the story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down
And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
I'll tell you how I came to know of Bailiffs as people that care

In Devon then the Isle of Wight born and raised
Although that's irrelevant to the story of the last few days
Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
Words that don't describe how I've been at all
Since a Bailiff (twas my understanding that they're up to no good)
Started making trouble in my neighbourhood
He'd been once before and my progeny got scared
He said a parking ticket we thought we'd paid still remained unrepaired

I'd paid 40 quid before and thought the matter was over
But Southwark Council (unbeknownst to us) had asked the courts to recover
A further 98 plus Bailiff's costs was the cause for his call
So we paid a cheque then cancelled it and hoped that that would be all

Well, 3 months passed and we'd forgotten it, hence we didn't expect
The bailiff to come around again with more to collect
I answered on the intercom and called him a twat
He went away, but not for good, we were certain of that

So, I spent Friday writing letters to work out this mess
I'm middle class, my nerves were wracked, I'm not used to this stress
I copied in the Obudsman, and I spoke to the rozzas
Avoiding further door knockers would help preserve my trousers

So, Saturday, the Bailiff knocked about 7 or 8
I yelled through the intercom, 'Yo, dickhead, smell ya later'
Then he told me that he'd clamped our car, and was towing it away
Not exactly what we'd had in mind for our childrens' Saturday

Riled, I rang the feds and asked them ‘what should be our plan?'
They said we'd have to let him go, it was out of their hands
I thanked them, insincerely, for their generous assistance
Wisely, said I'd kill him, then hung up, a regrettable insistence

I begged and pleaded with the Bailiff, my rage still intense
I showed him how we’d paid the bill, and the series of events
He showed me his warrant, and I called him an arsehole
Asked him if he enjoyed his job, something something metatarsal

First Class, yo this is bad
I walked away, told him just to take the car
Is this what life with Bailiffs is like,
Shit, this isn’t alright

Got back to the house and imparted the bad news
Our car would be towed away, he couldn’t care for our views
To get it back we’d have to go to court or pay 700 quid
It was more than I could handle, started flipping my lid

But then something happened, something really unexpected
The doorbell rang once more, again, the Bailiff, a new mood was soon detected
He said he’d mulled it over and had heard our honest tale
That he’d remove the clamp and clear the bill, that sense would now prevail

‘Not such an arsehole, am I?’, was his query, twice repeated
Taken aback, delighted, my composure now defeated
How had this come to turn around, all grievance in the past
Assuredly, he let me know, our trouble here was passed.

Now, how does it come to happen that a Bailiff seems to care,
But a council, that we pay for, pursues us everywhere
For a trifling indiscretion, over the meter by a second
A miserable malignance most febrile and quite fecund

It's had quite a stark effect on me, this thunderous re-appraisal
I'd decided, based on what I'd learned, that Bailiffs would be arseholes
Since then I've found I deal with things, things that would have wound me up
As people trying to get around how their own things are fucked up.