And Then, …I Pay

   Delighted to inform our new Prime Puppet - wot’s is name, Ample Eyebrows is it? - that I’ve happily paid the second instalment of my tax thus enabling him to hand it out to those wot really, really need help to afford a new smart{?} phone, really need a new tat or stud piercing about their face.
   In other ‘news’ I note our Sandy Bagboy is going to end homelessness and rough sleeping. Tell me Sandy, how many of our newest bestest ever friends wot got here by rubber raft are sleeping on the streets? Speak up brow boy! Oh...
Anyhoo, still haven't tried dancing along to this and doubt I ever will. Hell, I can only stand up still for a slack handful of minutes these daze. 

Quote: Frank Herbert.
“Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken.”

And Then A Question...

   Well, so, the NHS, blessed be its name, staff are still holding strikes rather than causing no harm then.
   Here’s an idea; if you happen to drive by one of their picket thingies where they congregate in happy, gurning, dancing, funny hat clad over weight gangs, just pull over and aske ‘em who pays their wages. If they answer, ‘The government.’ just remind them the government has no money and it’s actually the tax payer that’s paying them then point out that if the government finally folds to their demand for a preposterous percentage rise for themselves, civil serpents and others, it’s a given that personal taxes will need to be increased for one and all which obviously includes them. Then wot? And yes, we understand how hard you have to work...

    In other ‘news’ I see the media can’t let go of various stories relating to that highly important me, me, me gender bender game played by a minute percentage of the population wot’s of absolutely no interest to the majority.
   Me? As a by-the-by, I identify as a nut gathering squirrel as typified by my special nutty nest of vipers down there along the sofa.
   Anyhoo, for reasons not yet fully understood, I awoke at three this AM with the old number below playing in my heed. Enjoy.

Quote;  ??

“It’s a bit unnerving That doctors call what they do a practice.”

And Then, A Special Month...

   And that would be June. Special? Seems it’s some sort of celebration for LGBQUERTY folk. I guess, in a roundabout way, it’s to thank all those wot work tirelessly giving care in the community to those with mental health issues, right?
   In other ‘news’ it seems a couple of Brits, captured by bad lad Putin’s boys, are to go on trial for their lives. Their families are saying wot great lads they are. I suppose that’s apart from their urge to  get to a foreign country and  be given the chance to kill people.
   As for the latest episode in the much loved Carrie On series... Well? Did I watch Prime Ministers Question time? No, I was busy watching the  hail hitting the window. So typical of June, right? Is this that solar minimal thingy kicking in I wonder?
”This discovery of double dynamo action in the Sun brought us a timely warning about the upcoming grand solar minimum 1, when solar magnetic field and its magnetic activity will be reduced by 70%. This period has started in the Sun in 2020 and will last until 2053.”   
   To end on a lighter note, the other evening I was head down in the tap-top when I picked-up on some words emanating from the TV wot was quietly talking to itself wot made me look up and pay attention as they seemed to be for some sort of dating service or other but sounded a tad extreme. Wot I heard went something like this; “Just invested in a nice new kitchen? Don’t let that old boiler spoil it for you.” Whoa! That’s jolly naughty thought I to me! Anyhoo, seems it’s not the old boilers that sprang to my mind but for gas central heating boilers...                                         
Quote;  Molly Ivins.

“If his IQ slips any lower, we'll have to water him twice a day.”

And Then, That’s Another One...

Not sure wot all the fuss is about New Years eve but wot ever it is it’s here again. I well remember the first time I was allowed to stay up to see in the New Year as a pup and the tremendous anti-climax I experienced. I’m quietly confident in saying that was the first and the last time I stayed up to see it in – as they call it. However, to all those folk who want to party hearty, have at it and I’ll see y’all on the other side.

And let’s not forget Greta Thumbelina, blessed be her name. I do hope she’s joining in with yet another fad; and that would be? Veganuary... Ah Shacks ma heed. However, I decided to join in by restricting my menu to the majority of comestibles beginning with ‘V’. Note to self; stock-up on Venison. 

I tried loading the image below for Greta but Open Live Writer and Google don't like that simplistic rout anymore so I have to write the piece, post it as a draft, add a picture and then post. Who knew something so simple could be made so hard?

 

All the very best to you all and may the New Year live up to all your hopes and may our Brexit be wot was voted for.

 

Quote;  Billy Vaughan.

“An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves.”

And Then, It's Plain To See….

I watched something last night and it wasn't on TV so must've been a TV clip on YouTube and I can't find it again. Or, to be more precise, I can't be bothered looking.

It was one of those clips that's about six click clips further on than the clip linked to the original link you clicked on. Know the one I mean?

The clip I ended up on was that Mr Neil asking some MP and others about cigarette plain packaging. Just the usual stuff until Mr Neil asked the MP, who thought the idea was absolutely top-hole, what was the point of plain packaging a product already hidden behind closed shutters. The MP started his response with, unsurprisingly, "Well,….." and made the point that people leave their packs on tables in plain sight and plain packaging will….. And? And that was about it.

I thought a follow-up question could've been to ask the MP when the last time was he'd seen a pack o' fags on a table anywhere? You can't use 'em anywhere so why bother? In a pub? What's the point of getting 'em out of your pocket and putting 'em on a table just to have to re-pocket the packet every thirty minutes or so as you wander for the door and out into the weather? How many packs do you see lying on tables being ogled longingly by kids as they meander to the counter at McDonalds? Now days, you ever see a pack just sitting on any cafe, restaurant, bar or meeting place table? Or any table anywhere come to that.

What does he think we do out here? Sit down some place and, very first rattle out the box, empty our pockets? Phone – check. Car and house keys – check. Wallet with cash and cards – check. Handkerchief – check. Oh, ciggy pack and lighter. There. All done and neatly laid out. Now I'll just nip to the restroom after asking that nice fellow at the next table, the fellow in the stripy T-shirt, a mask and a sack marked Swag, to please keep an eye on my stuff for a moment.

These children in charge really do need to get out more.

As for tables in the home, at time of typing, to the best of my knowledge, the law stating that cigarettes must be kept locked in the gun cabinet, behind your two side-by-sides, at all times, has yet to be passed. I give it five years tops before it is by the way.

Are these people nuts? I'll rephrase that. These people are nuts.

Quote;  Steuart Henderson Britt.

“Doing business without advertising is like winking at a girl in the dark. You know what you are doing but nobody else does.”

              Luis Buñuel.

"Tobacco and alcohol, delicious fathers of abiding friendships and fertile reveries."

And Then Another....

Let's not forget those recently boiled cups of coffee or tea that seem to have absolutely no, "Damn!! That's hot!" effect on any and all actors. 

Doesn't really matter as most camera angles will show that all cups, solid or polystyrene, are running on empty.  Watch closely and it's obvious the way the drinking implements are transported, received and handled that they are, indeed, empty.  Am I picky or wot?

Still, they're actors and actresses so you'd expect them to be able to act a full cup, a hot hand, burned lip or scalded tongue once in a while wouldn't you?  No?  Just me again then.

{Note to self; need to get a proper hobby. Being an armchair director's rubbish.}

Quote;  Alfred Hitchcock.

“I never said all actors are cattle; what I said was all actors should be treated like cattle.”