Thursday, 23 May 2013

Shame on you Jock!

I've not been online for a couple of weeks. Lots of people have told me how impressed they are that someone of my age suddenly turn into an internet whizz-kid but I'm not really. I forgot my password so I couldn't get the laptop to turn on so Alison had to take it away to be fixed by a friend of hers who knows about such things. She was really keen to get it sorted out. I think it was because when I'm on the internet I'm not ringing her up and bending her ear. She told me now I've got it back I should write down my password so I don't forget it so I have.

Not that a lot has happened while I've been away. Good old Nigel Farage had a hard time of it North of the Border. They don't know a great politician when they see one up there. I hope they all go and vote for bloody independence. And while we're at it, let's close the Welsh border too. That way England will have what it's always wanted: a Conservative government with a decent majority that will just go on and on forever. That means it can get on with the job and get rid of all the bureaucrats and sort out all the bloody scroungers cut tax get out of the EU and put some proper pictures back in the art galleries instead of all those dead cows and such like.

If Nigel Farage wants to be Cock o' the North and impress the man in the street he could do worse than learn a trick or two from this bloke who's started posting his home videos. I tried it myself this afternoon with my walking stick and let me tell you it's not that easy:

Sunday, 12 May 2013

A Great Island Nation

Seems to me like all the fuss about UKIP has got the Tories talking sense again. I remember Lord Young from the good old days of Maggie (I might be 80 but I still remember what went on then) and he's just been on telly saying how easy it is at times like this to make a pile - you just pay people less. They're not going to complain or walk out when jobs are so hard to come by. And the only thing that'll get us out of the mess we're in is businessmen making loads of money. Everyone else will just have to tighten their belts. Stop buying their kids bloody burger and chips and buying them expensive mobile phones. It would do everyone good to have to eat simple, basic meals and turn down the central heating once in a while. That would be good for the planet too if you believe all that rubbish about global warming which I don't and don't get me going on about bloody windfarms. It gets bloody windy enough as it is without putting all those bloody propellers up on the hills. Talk about waste of energy.

And give them inspiring music like this. It worked in the 1940s so why not again?

I've been watching Coast on telly. I think it's great even if the presenters do look like dodgy characters. It's good to be reminded what a great island nation we are. I mean where else in the world would you find cliffs at the seaside that actually spell COAST? I never knew about them before I saw them on the programme. I'd love to know where they are. If they're not far from here I might ask Alison if we can go and see them next time we go out for a drive.

Talking of Alison, she came to collect the guinea pigs this morning. She wasn't that bothered that I'd lost one (it never turned up - I think it must have got out of the house when the front door was open like when Dan came with his carpet sweeper to sweep up the turds). In fact I think she might have not minded if I'd lost both the little sods.

Thursday, 9 May 2013

Life with Wayne and Rio

Alison brought round her guinea-pigs yesterday. She's put the hutch behind the settee in the living room.  They're going away for a few days. The people who usually feed and water them can't so she asked me. I said I should just about be able to manage it. All I have to do is put food out of the bag she left into the bowl in the hutch and top up the water thing which is about as hard as making myself a cup of tea which I can do so it shouldn't be a problem. I say "her" guinea pigs but strictly speaking they belong to Joshua -her son and my grandson. He said he wanted them and just as you'd expect totally lost interest in them the day his daft mother caved in and bought them. All he actually did was choose their names - Rio (after Rio Ferdinand, who's a footballer) and Wayne (after Wayne Rooney, who's a footballer too). Never buy children pets. They live for years and years. You end up feeding them, cleaning them out, walking them, etc., etc. As soon as you get them the little buggers (the  children that is) start to want something else. It wasn't like that when I was a kid. There was rationing then and any guinea pig you could lay your hands on would have ended up in the pot.

Talking of rationing, she said did I think I could manage to make my own sandwiches for a couple of days? I said yes. She's left me a lump of cheese, a sliced loaf  and a bag of sliced onion.

Not sure the dog thinks much to the guinea pigs. He spent most of yesterday morning with his nose to the grill. Wayne and Rio spent most of the morning in their sleeping-box, in a ball of straw. This morning I tried to feed them. I got the grill open but couldn't close it in time. The guinea-pigs escaped. The dog started barking like mad and the guinea-pigs ran under the sideboard, making that funny little noise they make. I finally got the dog in the bedroom and shut the door. I thought I'd leave him there till the rodents had been rounded up. Not long after that little drama Dan the Man (from down the road - everybody calls him that) came round to show me the old carpet-sweeper he'd just picked up on the market. It cost him four quid he said. His hoover's broken down so as you can imagine he's over the moon.

He was very impressed by the guinea pig trap I'd invented. I'd taken a drawer from the sideboard and propped it up with a pencil. I'd put a saucer of food from Alison's bag under it. The idea was that the guinea pig would dislodge the pencil as it went for the food, bringing the drawer down on top of it. Dan said to call him if it didn't work and he'd come round with his airgun. I told him no I wouldn't as Alison was very attached to her guinea pigs. It crossed my mind that Joshua the little sod would probably have liked taking a pot shot at it as much as Dan.  About teatime I heard a thud and sure enough one of the guinea pigs was trapped under the drawer. I'm not sure whether it was Rio or Wayne - Alison did tell me the difference but I've forgotten what it is.

The trouble, I discovered, was how could I lift up the drawer and grab the bloody animal before it ran off? I just managed it and now Rio (or Wayne) is back in the hutch and Wayne (or Rio) is still at large - that is if he didn't escape when Dan came in. I set the trap again but it was no good. Perhaps he watched as his mate got caught and has got more sense. I let the dog out to see if he could find the little bugger but he seemed to have lost interest. I'll just have to wait and see if Rio or Wayne (whichever his name is) gets hungry enough to come out from his hiding-place.  And if he doesn't, does it matter? At the end of the day he might as well live in the living room as in the hutch until Alison gets back. The only trouble is I keep treading on those funny little sausage-shaped turds they leave lying around. I might have to get Dan to come round after all - with his carpet-sweeper.

Monday, 6 May 2013

Lets Hear It For British Cheese

Read in the paper today that prisoners are no longer going to have to watch daytime TV in their cells. More evidence if it were needed that the government are going soft. I mean given the choice I'd rather break rocks on Dartmoor than have to watch repeats of bollocks like A Place in the Sun and Homes Under the Hammer over and over again with all those adverts for stairlifts. I watch a lot of TV but not that load of cobblers. If I want to watch and there's nothing decent on I stick on a video. Yesterday I watched Carry On Up The Jungle.

While we're on the subject I think we should do all we can to reduce the prison population. Bring back the birch. That'll make them think twice. As for serious criminals like robbers shoot the lot of them. They never learn so why bother banging them up? If we've not got the guts for that (and there's not a lot of guts around these days) then make them watch Location, Location, Location ALL DAY.

Here's a bit of Edmundo Ross. Come Closer to Me. If I had to do a stretch I wouldn't mind sticking her on the wall over my bunk:

Alison got very cross when she found out I'd fed the sandwiches to the dog. She said I was lucky he didn't have to go to the vet. I said in that case it was a good job I didn't eat them. Today she left me cheese and onion. Good old British Cheddar.

Saturday, 4 May 2013

There's No Smoke Without UKIP

Alison left me some sandwiches in the fridge yesterday. She keeps trying to make me eat healthy but I'm having none of it. Bloody wholemeal bread and full of some weird smelly Greek stuff. I gave them to the dog. I should have known better because anything like that always makes him fart. The bloke who came in the afternoon to do my feet (Jason his name is) kept looking at me funny. I think he thought it was me.

Jason (what sort of a name's that?) asked me if I'd voted and I said yes  and I'd voted for UKIP. Jason kind of nodded and changed the subject which wasn't hard because the dog had farted again. I wasn't sure at first because I didn't want to vote for a party with a leader with a French name but I had a long chat with Maggie over the bar the night before and she said I should. I always used to vote Tory but this lot have gone soft. I mean you can't even have a fag in the pub any more. Not only that but UKIP are the only party who can see the sense in cutting tax for the rich and putting up income tax for everyone else. I mean, Robin Hood was wrong - if you rob from the rich to give to the poor, all the poor will do is sit on their arses. It's about time people started to stick up for the Sheriff of Nottingham if you ask me. He's always had a bad press. I mean, I bet there wasn't any crime in Sherwood Forest (apart from Robin Hood that is). Perhaps they should make a film - none of your Errol Flynn crap but one about the whole thing from the Sheriff's side. I don't know if he's done any acting but perhaps Nigel could be persuaded to star in it.

It's expensive work being rich. They've got posh cars and decent suits to buy and you can't make yourself a million without a nanny to look after the kids while your doing it. It wouldn't hurt the man in the street to help out and to have to pay a bit more for less. It might make him get off his arse.

Anyway, enough of all that. Here's some music - Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. With a bit of luck it soon will be doing down the pub again: