Rambling Fred.

six oclock I got up at five. Couldnt sleep. Lots going around in my head about Mad Muslim fundamentalists, Ghettos in Britain, lack of integration, Trump/ Kim flung dung, Wolf whistles being a sex crime and the massive gulf growing between left and right over everything (sod bexit its a side show) Ill tell you one thing we need to find some common ground and  we will not get that by banning freedom of speech thought or deed. We need to let the steam out of whats bugging especillay the white tribe in this country. Since the Libs became a spent force there is no middle ground anymore.

So. tonight Im flipping through the channels like you do and there is this girl with her bits out and this chap with his meat and two veg swinging in the breeze, while some other idiot goes on about the meirts of it and Im thinking WTF.  Then on Channle five I screamed as a huge virgina is being  masturbated in HD. Christ that put me off my crumpet and Hot Chocolate. THEN over to the late news and  im told its a sex crime to wolf whistle at a lady now and Im sat there looking at old BOB and I said "Never mind mate human race probably die out soon"

I hear that a wolf whistle will soon be classed as a sex crime! FFS! One day soon we will all be consigned to live in totally inclusive gender free society where sex between two interested parties has to be verified as consensual before during and for six months after what what may have been considered sex..Fair enough but some work needs to be put in concerning how sexual attraction can be signalled to the other erm party in a none vocal or suggestive fashion. The world is going mad right? I mean it is isnt it.. Or is it just UK? Side swipe yes for no and right for left! errm

I have been watching the state on ch 4, a timely reminder - as if one were needed - that anyone who holds these ideals is a massive threat to world peace and civililsation. While watching the series one thought kept going over and over in my head. We must oppose this curse in every way we can. These beasts are beyond the pale. I dont think there has been a bigger evil force since the 1930s They really just want to kill us and enslave us. We must stop people being radicalized and hit the terrorists.

And in closing Negella Lawsons new book Lunch on me. "Now I love sundays in my house. After they have all gone to bed I get up in my skimpy see through pinnie and creep down stairs in my jimmy heels and slide over to the fridge. Inside I have many yummy cold and slippy things and ohhh its sooooo hot tonight. I think I better rub some sherry trifle over my ripe firm fruit pies and ohh look a long sponge finger just right for.. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ohhhhh Gosh. Yeah sorry Ill go have a cold shower. Its just once she gets in your head your toast. Phew and the things she does with a cake decorator Its just pure filth.

Time for bed.

Hugs
xxx

View from my Tree

In recent commincation with a very dear friend of a socialist persuasion I found myself about to repeat my typical middle of the road objection to all things Corbyn when I actuall thought I might try harder. Here is my thoughts on the current plight of Uk and maybe a few other "democracies:

Truth be known I think we have now become a fractured cynical society bled dry of belief in a system of governance that has engineered, manipulated and down right lied its way to power for so many years.



The constant in battle with a media, that is so rabid for flesh that no sane person would coutenance running for office, has left us without candidates or leadership on tap other than self serving blow hards. And yet we still hanker for a Masiyah who would lead us to the promised land. How often that has led to Stalin or Moa and now Corbyn who would have no compunction in enslaving us all for the better good of the proletariat. Him and his henchmen of the far left are no better than the worse of the far right. Indeed, I caution you this way.



Communism so far has cost the earth around 210 million souls in purge, desease, famine, war and failed five year plans. The far right ironically less around 80. So, be careful for what you wish. I like the centre ground me. Its always the centre ground who have to pick up the tab for the right and left and put them back in their respective boxes.  Please note; history and two world wars prove it. Ill leave you with this thought. Stalin (still revered in russian and no one knows why) said of the 40 million soviets killed in the second world war against the far right this: "One person dying is a tragedy, but 40 million is a statistic". He then had his own daughter locked up. Moa in china killed an estimated 60 million of his own people 4 million of whom died in revolution to ensure the revolution was on track!. Its what happens when there is nothing bigger than the Party and the arsehole in charge of it.



So, no thanks Ill keep to the centre groung even thought the populace who once upon a time took public service not so much of a job to be renumerated but a vocation looked up to by the public they served and we get half way to the deep seated problem of a fractured society that doesnt believe in anything anymore.

1. Why should it? The government only believe in power for itself.
2. Media and single party pressure groups stampeding over the rights of the majority and hanging every utterence of protest on the hanging tree of none PC. Thus the silent majority become repressed and bingo Brexit/Trump.
   
3. No faith in our System after years of trying to pull it down and yet having no real idea of what to replace it with. led to where we are today with it in tatters. Ironic of course that those in the 60s and 70s who did their level best to dismantle the state are now in the Lords.
   
4. THE USA nuff said
5. The death of industry and replacement by service industry and the creation the University as a pathway to massive debt and a career in the fast food industry for most graduates. Plus an erosion of our education standards to the point that an old fashioned O'level would throw most A level students into a panic. 

I could go on, but you get my point. Simply have no truck with Snake charmers of the left or right and pray with a population in this very small island now approaching 66 million that we sort out this multi cultural experiment soon and Rochdale never happens again.

Have a nice weekend dear readers.

Oh and happy 150th birthday Canada. Old and good friend through thick and thin. I was driving passed my church yard yesterday and spared a thought for the 37 commonwealth airmen buried in there from WW2. God bless and Rest in Peace.

Politics - Liberal Democracy

I was watching all the love at the concert in Manchester on sunday evening with a friend and noted then the power of music and the magic of love to sort problems out - if only temporarily. Then I thought of the road following the last war to where we are today and considered; Why do we seem to have to pay so dearly for the freedom we give away so freely? 

I can never understand why throughout modern history we have had to fight terrible wars against those who would enslave us and take away our freedom, then only to give it away peacemeal. By imposing a sudo Liberal Democratic sublime dictatorship and thought control called Political Correctness that kills freedom of speech and makes us all obey rules of enforced politeness, that only covers up our true feelings and tribal instincts, that would be much better expressed and modified possibly by informed discussion and the passage of time. But no we are not allowed that natural outlet of debate and informed argument and so we fester.

In it most extreme form, imigration is a prime example of enforced PC. I have no problem with integration within tolerable limits i.e. at levels acceptable and within our infrastructures abillity to provide for imigrants. However, I cannot see the benifits of unlimited imigration because of its obvious impact on our health and eduction services and housing stock. Also, one has to wonder at the effects to our security now that UK born second generation ISIS fighters are returning to UK without let or hinderance. 

However, the biggest problem to our security and ever growing numbers comes not only from our history of open borders and a welcome to all, but conservative austerity that has stripped of Police, Border Control, Health, Housing, Education facilities, our Forces and led to a culture of quality under pressure to cost at every level. Hence the fire in North Kensington and its dreadful response by the local council. Basically it had no capacity for civil defence due to cut backs. 

A sad story it is too that began with Harold Wilson saving a quid or two by scrapping the Civil Defence Corps in 1968 and the Tories putting the Boot in by litterally scrapping our entire local government, regional protected seats of government, Royal Observer Corps and hundreds of bunkers, food stores, auxillary fire fighting equipement, back bone communications systems independent of civil telephone and hardened shelters and so on. Leaving us now with litterally no capacity at all of disaster response other than call out our pitifully undermanned Forces. Even prolonged civil unrest would be a challenge and of course our Police in th capitol are under pressure thanks to the loss of 2000 police constables. Our Prison Service is so badly run and undermanned that they are basically places for young and old to become hooked on drugs and to convince all that the idiot has taken over the place of PM we are told they will be stripping county constabulary forces of constables and recruiting more for the capitol with the money. All super no doubt until one realises that terror attacks have happened in Glasgow and Manchester and civil unrest in Wakefield and Bradford on more than one occassion. Not to mention we not domicile in the capitol need a Police Force that can police and not just an answer phone at Police HQ.

So, all for the sake of austerity we are looking at not only our freedom being curtailed in many more cost effective ways like increased CCTV (we are the most photographed naton on earth now) and internet policing, but our health in threatened by reduced health services and fewer fire services and God help us if any form of prolonged campagne of terror happens. A war is unthinkable as our Forces wouldnt last five minutes. Indeed the Air Chief three years ago told the PM he couldnt guarentee the air protection of Uk with 40 yes 40 fighter planes. 

And that is how one gives away ones freedom. 

Ill leave you with this thought. The recent fire in London killed and estimated 80 people and made homeless what 300  people. They are still having to sort the mess out. In 1944 alone 16000 people died in london of the V1 and V2 attacks. It also left an estimated 1 million homes damaged or flat. At no time did anyone have to demonstrate at the town hall to get attention. We had the Civil Defence, Fire Services Womens Voluntary Services, Regional and Town Government and no one was left unattended or in need. We had a common cause and fought to protect our common identity and to keep or freedom. I wonder what we have now some 80 years later and what the people of that time would make of us and our nation now. 

 

Come the moment come the cup cake! Satre knew a thing or two

I am beholding to Jean Paul Sartre for a the bulk of this item. I bring it to your attention with the State of the world under a savage press intrusion that basically means to rise to the top one has to be a bloody good liar or a complete sociapathic narcissist.

The current state of UK politics is a case in point. We have a choice in the fortcomming elections of a Vicars Daughter who thinks its 1952 or a Raving Trotskite who wants to understand and talk to ISIS. Anyway, read this and make your own mind up why the first world will soon not be.

Many pundits have presented the case that society needs to reward the achiever. It is argued that the most talented should attain positions of authority, based upon their superior ability. The end result is the formation of a power structure of Elites – making the decisions, formulating policies and directing the organizations that carry out the plan. It is most difficult to quarrel with the notion that talent is not distributed equally, but it becomes a giant leap to conclude that the very attribute of aptitude, is the sole criteria that justifies positions of authority.
Democracy has failed miserably to ensure a Just society, but so has rule by a cadre of whiz kids. The problem with ALL attempts to design and implement social systems through central planning is that it ignores the dynamics of the market place of individual needs, aspirations and fears. Neither Government nor NGO Institutions have the ability to mold humanity to their conception of paradise. Only the accumulative interaction of countless individual dreams and nightmares, can set the course on this ‘ship of fools’. Mankind, by the nature of its common humanity, is unable to achieve perfection. Those who seek and scheme to be the architects of paragon, and those who lust and plot to be the regents of dominance, possess the same flaws.
‘Meritocracy’ attempts to establish a standard by which motivated crusaders can achieve success. Well, that’s fine and commendable if we could all agree upon the criteria for defining achievement. But society has such a varied view of significance in collective accomplishment, that consensus is virtually impossible.
In addition to this problem, the methods used to demonstrate and constitute access to the reins of power, must be established. However, this seemingly rational approach to test the merits of the prospective leader defy our Nature, when a system of empirical formulas are solely used. The parameters for merit must include the moral basis for behavior. But the proponents of ‘Meritocracy’ accept situations ethics as a substitute for principle. Their faith is founded in the belief that Man is capable of reaching an ideal, that THEY define for all of Mankind. Their rational is simple, who is more qualified to delineate the proper social order, than the members of the ‘Meritocracy’?
This begs the real issue, for the conflict which is inevitable from such reasoning has a dire record, when sincerely reviewed. Even if one disagrees with the conclusion that the chronicle of controlled conduct is replete with corruption and depravity; one can hardly concur that it has been well managed. If those of influence, are really the best and brightest, why are they so unsuccessful in the implementation of their vision?

Again, we need not look very far for the answer. An examination of HOW one becomes part of the ‘Meritocracy’, reveals its ultimate failing. Advancement in the ranks of most organizations requires a conformity, to the culture, of that particular gang of achievers. Bureaucracies invariably place a premium on compliance and congruity to established policy, practice and puissance. Independent initiative is suspect. And individual action is soundly condemned. To the ‘Meritocracy’, conformity is a virtue and autonomy is a vice. Isn’t it obvious that the very entree into the ‘Meritocracy’ requires that one proves their superiority by way of accepting the tenants of the enlightened?
But reality is much different from the myth. The

practice of advancement dictates that ‘Mediocrity’ is the prime and indispensable ingredient, to ensure acceptance. With acceptance comes admittance to the clique. Yes, ‘Meritocracy is the clan of ‘Mediocrity’, and is founded upon the principle of uniformity.
When Ayn Rand argues her ‘Objectivism’ as an alternative moral code for a world that has doubts in a Creator, she attempts to establish the truth that moral conduct is the ultimate standard for individual achievement. The morality of the individual pursuit of happiness, is achieved and justified by the very act of independent accomplishment. But the ‘Meritocrat’ is opposed to her philosophy because it removes the ‘Mediocre’ foundation upon which their power rest. Why is it that so often these protectors of the inferior are Harvard graduates? Might, we not be better served with Crimson drop outs?
The core question rests upon the character of achievement. Is advancement conceived in individual inspiration or does it require the collective allusions of mediocre toadies? Absence of moral authority leaves man equipped to ravage his fellow neighbor; in the name of ever noble objectives, that can be reduced through the accumulated delusions of the geniuses of amorality.
Irrational behavior becomes the norm when, the know it all, is allowed to rise to positions of influence. Those who claim to be the ‘cream of the crop’ are buffoons in the circus of the absurd. If you still doubt that this cannot be true, point out the last independent mind of moral courage, to achieve a position of authority in this gulag of unanimity? No Solzhenitsyn comes to mind!
The solution will not be reached through rational systems, devised by Man. Rand said her guiding inspiration came from a forgotten sage, who said: “I will not die, the world will end”. Too many of the ‘Meritocracy’ similarly accept this falsehood that the world will cease without their wisdom. They are unwilling to acknowledge that they are a mere cog in the plan of an ‘Existential’ reality. Unless one is ready to humble themselves to accept revealed authority, all the pseudo intellectualism from the ‘precocity of phantasm’, will be for naught. Haven’t we all suffered enough under the normality of the chaotic reign of the ‘Meritocracy’? Or are you content to be part of the ‘Mediocrity’?
SARTRE

Hi, hope you lasted the course? Sartre can be hard going, but he covers all the bases of that there is no doubt. I worry greatly that mediocrity will be the death of us all. For life is not equal and fair, neither is it ever going to be inclusive. More worryingly we need leaders and we need leaders who think outside the box and strictures of fascist Liberalism based on PC B/S that believes we can be all made equal.

Cars

What is it about cars. They really do become a part of our everyday life. Member of the family if you will. I was nattering with my youngest daughter and fellow petrol head about the cars of her time with the firm. VDubs seem to figure large in our life. There was Vi the GTI (her favorite) and Micky the Mazda that I loved

They all had their own smell and manner. Rolf the Golf was a superb Carbrio (first pic) that I took a year to rebuild to band new condition before taking it on a long and lovely holiday to the Black Forest and Austria. Its still tucked away in a garage at my ex wife's house. We had many adventures in it and it never missed a beat. Mickey the Mazda was probably my last hooligan car and only recently sold to a young nurse with a good eye for a bargain. The MX5 is without doubt the best little sports car ever made and the most fun one can have with ones trousers still on. My kids loved it and so did the dogs. My Cocker Spaniel standing up with his ears flying, "Doing a Snoopy" and with a massive grin on his face while Bella the girl Spaniel hid in the footwell really summed up the cars appeal. If you have a couple of grand spare and want a really superb car then buy one. I would again in a heat beat.Cheap to run and starts everytime. Sadly missed.

Zoe's favourite without a shadow of doubt was Vi the GTI. Get the CD banging and the engine on song and it flew. One time we managed Dover to Oxford with a cream cake in the back that was still cold when we got home. Superb car and brought for not a lot for the wife who promptly blew up the gear box. I swear that women could kill a car simply by looking at it. However, what VW quoted £2000 to fix my friend and I - after much tea and thinking - fixed for £10 and a hammer. It really was a super car.

The toss up for my favorite car has to be the ex Frau's Honda CRX (Tinka) and a MG Midget called Tonka. The Honda Crx naturally she blew the engine and nearly got enough speed tickets to get a ban. But she loved it dearly and it has to be said it was a very sexy little car was Tinka and much missed. Indeed, it was  really the pocket rocket that we should have kept. I think that car was the car she most loved and as a two plus two just the thing for a yummy mummy to race around in.

Tonka on the other hand was a saga worthy of a short book. It was brought because the ex wanted a british sports car and its a good reason never to let women loose in the Auto Trader. Even the trip to see the car was a saga. Zoe (then 8 months old) got caught short and had to held out the window in a traffic jam on the M25 to have a wee. When we got there I knew all was lost when the owner opened the garage door and Lisa said "Ohh I love it". Well, at least £200 was added to the price I now had to pay and the backfiring and noises the thing made on the way back meant I was going to be busy rebuilding the engine and most everything else. But it did make a nice wee car and much fun she had in it. And bless her the wife pitched in and I will not forget in a hurry watching her sat on the front room carpet T cutting the bonnet while watching the TV. I bet she would not do that now!

Typical of all English Sports cars it had its moments. Including breaking down on the M40 one morning in the rush hour. The resulting tow back to our house included a fast passage on the A43 that reached a rop speed of 60 mph. Now I wouldnt mind but I was in the broken down car and being pulled by a mad women on a 10 foot rope! Zoe stood in the back window of the tow car waving back at me, waving at her to slow down!

Yes we had a few cars and more than a few classics. I dont think I ever made a profit but they did look nice. Including Dobby the Elf.

Dobby took two years to restore and was a cow from the start. Made a nice car in the end, but I will never restore another and feel sorry for anyone who wants to do a mini. They rust if left on grass over night. Bloody awful car to work on.

Of all the cars I owned I think two are worthy of note now and both are Italian. I restored a Fiat 850 Spider for my first wife and it really was a super little car and much loved.

I think it holds the record for the most Italians you can get in a two door coup. 7! and the best one liner by a woman driver when I asked why there was no pads in the front brake she replied. "Ohh I wondered where that noise was coming from".Its no wonder my nick name was "Spanners".

However, if you pushed me to choose a favourite it has to be my old Alfa Romeo GTV. I really did love that car and I think kept it for a good six years. It did sound nice and flew around the auto routes of Europe and Cyprus. My Father and I brought it one day after a few pints in Nottingham. I have to admit the wife at first was not that happy with the cost, but melted a bit when I took her up the M1 at over the 100 MPH mark in the early morning sun. "My God it flies" was her first words. It was also famous for making my dreaded sister in law sick. I took my brother and his......................erm............................wife! out for a spin and gave it the beans. Remarkable how green she became in my rear view mirror the faster I we went.

Alf also nearly became a coffin when over taking a truck full of grapes on a very dodgy mountain road in Cyprus. But, by far its greatest feat was in Northern Cyprus when they closed the border with the Greek half and we had to get back to the check point fast before we became "guests" of the Turkish Police. I would just like to thank the Derbyshire Police for teaching me to drive and Alfa Romeo for making the car that got us back to that check point with seconds to spare. We were never so pleased to see a Royal Fusilier with his feathers in his cap.Indeed, Rita gave him the biggest hug of his life.

I suppose ones first car is the one we most think of and mine was a little VW beetle called Lizzie. RPE 617 E was the reg and it puttered me around for a few years of happy motoring without much misshap. One bonds with a car and I did with Liz on the 3 years courting involving many a journey back and forth from Oxford to Nottingham. But one night I recall clearly for it snowed very heavily and only Liz and I ventured forth to tootle down the M1 and then A5 with the snow getting thicker and the window wipers going slower and the vision getting smaller by the mile. By the time I got to Brackley in Northants I was doing 10 mph and stopping every couple of miles to clear the windscreen. But Liz never coughed once and got me back to base at very early O'clock of the morning.

I have had a few clapped out monsters  mind you. A Ford Escort Mk1 was probably the worst. The engine stopped if you put the indicators on. And a Triumph Spitfire that I discovered had been repaired with bread when I found a bird pecking at the rear wheel arch! But, you live and learn.

Now of course cars are much cheaper than they were and much better built than they were. However, harder to fix and not so much fun for the kids. Now I have Poly the Polo and that does me to get around. A real old Granddad car, with its 3 cylinder 1.4 engine it does me. Indeed, I just drove to Hamburg and back in it. Slow, but we got there. Mind you, when you think about it the first time I drove with my Dad from Hamburg to UK was in 1963 and in one of these!

The winter of 63 was the worst on record and my God it was long and cold. My Mother was having kittens being too far from her Mother and decided we had to go home to Nottingham for Christmas. How we even managed to get from Germany to the Hook of Holland Ill never know. But the journey from Harwich to the Nottingham up the old A1 was a very long and bitterly cold nighmare. The heater was an optional extra (I kid you not) on the Oxford and ours gave out as much heat as a night light. Wrapped in blankets we shivered with Dad driving really superbly through a blizzard with those skinny old cross ply tyres scrabbling for traction. Dead cars and lorries littered the Great North Road and boy were we glad to get to Nottingham for naturally what turned out to be a totally crap Christmas. Where Mum and Gran just argued mostly. Then the horror of having to retrace our route in even worse weather back to Germany. I think I share something with my Dad here. We both picked women who would not let go of their Mothers appron strings to our cost. But that as they say is another story and perhaps for another time.

Happy motoring in the meantime.

Election Fatigue

Following so close to the Referendum from hell this election for the post of PM is doing my head in. I cannot abide the news coverage yarping on about whose manifesto is manifestly wrong, or what clown said what about HS2 taking away food from babies mouths. It all goes on far too long and along with half the population im getting Pre Traumatic Election Stress. I just wish it would all sod off for a bit to be honest!

Yesterdays P.M. on Radio Four with Eddie having a pop at some poor labourite gobshite had me actually feeling sorry for comrade Gobshite. I mean who would know how much a HB pencil costs a primary school? Thats the problem I guess. Its the ferile media looking for the most obscure question to trip up the bovine arse who is just going to sit there and vomit the party line until his/her five mins is up and they rejoing the studio merry go around.

I just wish someone would ask a fun question to break the total bordom that comes over me when the news comse on. Something like:

1. Have you now or ever been a member of the Tufty Club?
2. Why do 24 hour supermarkets have locks on the door?
3. Why did Kamakazi Pilots wear helmets?
4. Have you ever taken a pee in a pub car park or doorway?
5. Whats the most stupid thing you ever did?
6. Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?
7. How do you know if honesty is the best policy unless you've tried some of the others?
8. Why is it that when you're driving and looking for an address, you turn down the volume on the radio?
9.  You know that little indestructible black box that is used on planes? Why can't they make the whole plane out of the same substance?
10.  Is an oxymoron a really dumb bovine?

Its also the quandry im in betwix my head and my heart. I am a good socialist at heart. Mum and Dad both working class. Granddad a Miner and I sided with the Miners (even though a copper) in the strike. But and its a big but, Corbyn just dont impress me much. Polarise going to sea with no missiles and in negotiations for Brexit I just dont think he would have the backing of his own party , or the capacity for bringing home the bacon  in the divorce negotiations. And the rest of the Labour Party is up its own arse trying to sort itself out and may well split after the election.

BUT

I hate the Tories and the thought of yet more food banks and the NHS in crisis, poot being flogged and sent to Australia again, children up chimneys is just as bad. SOOOO what do I do????

Well, I guess there is still time, but this time I will be jumping from one foot to the other when it comes time to put the x in the box. Ill let you know how it goes.

Feminine Flatulence

I think flatulence is probably the last true area of sexism left in the UK.In that women who cant hold their wind can always hold the high ground when it comes to farting. Example:

I have arthritis in my spine and the GP said go do some Yoga. I found a local chapter (or whatever is the collective) and rocked up with my towel to find its all old ladies. Naturally being the only chap I get at the back and hide behind this Lady of some considerable girth and off we go into the lion posture etc. Suddenly she broke wind alarmingly......I mean with considerable strenght, lets say force 10 in the sea areas Dogger to Humber. This minor detonation of course halted the proceedings and we all paused and the cheeky cow looks at me! Then all the Ladies all look at me in that slow head turn of doom... I have not been since!

It seems the convention in such situations is for the male to take the hit! And yet, if honesty had been the order of the day and Moby Dick had admitted to letting one go, all would have been fine, indeed it would be dismissed with a collective chuckle by the remaining ladies. But the male of the speciese letting one go is vile and to be punished.

Why is flatulence divided along gender lines? And why is it that a woman farting is deemed a "toot" and funny and a man farting is some (I use the word advisadly) kind of rights of passage in male company and disgusting in mixed? I need answers to these questions.

My first dear wife was a diminutive in size but, made up for it in othe ways. Strong as an ox and born to the plough (Irish) she could move mountains and as a Nurse was oft called on to do so. She gave way to no man and held her own in most company. Untill, that first day when we dined out in rather select company and she let one go that would have simply stunned those of lesser erm...............stuff. Naturally those around her were shall we say surprised and I noted one or two who may have been worried about their safety! I sat opposite this rather beautiful pale looking WMD and could just about contain my mounting hysteria. She, of course nearly fainted with presumably the effort involved in pushing such a huge volume of gas through such a small aperture. Indeed, its a wonder the force didnt make her arse fray and now sat dejected and exhausted. But rallying quickly she managed a faint "sorry" and excused herself in order no doubt to re-adjust her now loose "harvest festivals" (harvest festivals = to gather safely in!!). Naturally, upon her return as a lady the whole affair was glossed over and the soup was served. 

The next example concerns a dear girl I had the very good fortune to abide with - across the brush so to speak - in the deepest heart of the lovely Cotswolds for some 11 summers. A buxom lass with a lovely voice similar to Pam Ayres. Indeed, we lived not 5 miles from her. I did love that girl, she was just about perfect in everyway..................but one... She could out perform the Scots Guards when it came to breaking wind. And nothing was sacred. She would cock a leg and let it go, no matter where or when. Splendidly funny was her abillity to cover a fart with a cough or rumble on her seat and let one slip. One of course got used to it and marvelled at the splendour that was she. Until the day of my Fathers funeral when just as the curtain parted to allow the coffin to go on it way and with perfect syncronisation with the organist she let a vile long and loud rendition of her own first movement in F sharp fly. Her seat being flat on a church pew naturally didtn help and amplified the outrageous pitch and volume.......................stunned................silence, Mother with an appalled look fixed on her distraught face, horror on the Vicar's and then bless her she burst into embarrassed giggles. Which I swear she knew would always get me giggling too. As always she said in Cotswold, "Oooher where that come from then?"

I could go on, but you no doubt get the point. There is of course only one other species on this planet who can clear a room better than a human being and that is:

So, dear reader remember the old sandscipt adage "Wherever you be let your wind blow free" and enjoy!

Parish Newsletter 24th March 2017 Homage to Beechcomber.

Welcome to the Parish of  Blatherwyck En Crout information and weekly newsletter. 

Address from the Rt Rev Alfonse Loose-Globe DMC, MFI and Clasp. Vicar of St Bernice the confused. 

May the peace of Jehova and the fellowship of the golf club be amongst you and with you within and without us all as we spring forward to pastures new. Tis with some considerable pain that I sat this morning and after a brief interjection was removed by the Deacon I moved on to safer ground and once more took on my pastural duties. Not with standing or indeed sitting in judgement, as one does. upon my ass I wondered high and low and eventually found an open A&E where I was bound in honey and vinegar due to a lack of elasterplast and thanks to cut backs. Once returned unto the fold I showered, removed the flies that stuck to me and again found the favor of the Lord in all his works by gazing upon the west vestry window, now repaired by Jack Slob of Everrest Windows Bogchester tel : 761987 after Reginald Spencer Pest had broken said pane with a cricket ball last year. 

As we approach Middlemass Springus Magna I could not but think of Frederick's Letter to the Corinthians contained in Fred 6 chp 2 to 5 inclusive in the revised book of Fred concerning his thoughts on mustard and rhubarb poltice making during lent. Little is known of the reply from the Corinthians bombarded as they were at this time by missives from many Apostles. St Berts Letter concerning colonic irrigation and fish oil as treatment for a minor squint being one such letter now lost to time. 

And having thought on these subjects at some length I passed on to this weeks forthcoming Bi monthly annual mattress platting and bulb polishing display by the Blatherwyck Women's Institute and Vehicle Recovery Group. 

Last years event was most memorable for the standard of polishing and in particular the efforts of Gladys Buttock nee Elbow. Gladys what is your secret? It must be in the wrist action. Let us hope the poor bulb crop this year and let us not forget that  the comitant and or concomitant) strabismus is a deviation that is the same magnitude regardless of gaze position. Noncomitant (or incomitant) strabismus has a magnitude that varies as the person or indeed persons shifts his or her gaze up, down, or to the sides of the bulb in question! Which doubtless may effect the outcome. I know I dose?

Be that as it was or may in the future be I leave you mediums out there with this thought.....?


Monthly Notice Board

Welk appreciation society has been sadly cancelled this months Welk Curry Night due to an outbreak of welk poisoning. Those of you who may have suffered from violent flatulence and projectile involuntary defecation are no doubt aware of it and need no reminder to seek shelter and or reconstructive surgery. 

All other events are as planned unless they have been cancelled. Please feel free to find out on the night. 

Births, Marriages and Deaths. 

Births:
Following a prolonged delivery in which time was taken to serve lunch at the Bogwort on Muse Cottage Hospital a Daughter Darf to Mr and Mrs Vader. 

Marriages:
Master Hardy Mount and Miss Shandford Hand-Shandy at the Bogchester register of deaths office tuesday next. Any rice should be donated pre-cooked and donated to the curry evening planned for last wednesday. 

Deaths. 
Soon to be arranged for Eric Spume estranged Husband of Elsie. Missing since the Hunt Ball along with Sian Humber-Staffcar now belived to be in  Cyprus. 

Note: 
All items for the bring and fling skip are to be checked into the following bins. 

Brown. Brown items but not gravy. 

Green. Green Bottles and Brown Bottles but not clear bottles if the grey bin is full. 

Purple Bin
Clothes and shoes between size small and x large shoe size 11 only. All other shoes are to be placed in size order by the raised barrier. 

Orange Bin
For really gay clothes that even you Brother Vermillion the Gay wouldnt wear. 

Black bin
The habit of placing dead bodies in this bin will stop immediatley its not funny. Even though the Coop Are now charging over £7K for a straw coffin and a box of swan vestas. Its not funny and it smells. 

Canal shaped bin. For all bicycles, prams and unwanted household pets. 

Kind of Apple with a hint of magnolia bin:
For all household appliances with an R in the month and ironing boards only please. 

Late closing sunday - free entrance. Exit £3. Refreshments will be available by the black bin. Please take your litter home with you. 

Bi Election; Bogchester and Vexed on Tynne Ward. Message from Middle Ground and Good Egg  Party Candidate Elmer Battersea-Thud. 

" Do you ever wonder... I know I do. Sometimes I wonder for miles and it was during my wonder that I recently thought (a first for me) and went home really shagged out. No I mean really!

HOWEVER.

Soon it will be time again to vote for someone to go forward and backwards daily to the London on Thames and live in the house of Commons and be paid £74000 a year and lots of lovely expenseseses to be your voice and stuff. I know I would like that and I hope you would like that two or maybe even three. So, if you like our policy on jam and spoon bending, Water cress as a way of life, Self errecting ladders and an end to carpet burns Vote Elmer Battersea-Thud. I know I will. Thanks for watching!










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Irony of Terror

I never cease to be amazed at what the human race can do in the fields of science, medicine, the arts and sadly what it can also do when it decides normal communications have broken down and starts killing each other! Often for reasons that total negate reason.......erm...............so to speak!

My first experience of humans gone mad came when I was sent - back in the very early 1970s - to a very remote country called Oman where some nasty people had decided to topple the local ruler and impose thier verson of communisim. I saw things out there that made a young boy grow up fast. One strange thing was that our toilet cleaner (named ironically Fred) was also the executioner for the local ruler.

Then off to Ireland to see how insane the Irish can be in the name of a shared God, but a divided view of the finer detail I saw young women tarred and feathered and people crippled with electric drills. The IRA could be every bit as nasty as ISIS and its Ironic that the leader of that particular band has now died to some acclaim in the press as a peace maker! I can not share this view. I will not forgive McGuinness his crimes, but I will let a sleeping dog lie. However, the thought of all the soldiers of the Crown who are now being investigated for alledged crimes in the troubles rankles when all the IRA and UVF thugs have been released in the interests of peace. 

Naturally my heart goes out to all those affected by the troubles. Two in particular may stand as an example and worth remembering. I was about 30 years of age, had done,  had seen too much and done too much war. I was burnt out emotionally, I was also tired out and told I needed a break, indeed ordered to take one. So, I took some time and had treatment in one of the Forces psychiatrict hospitals then getting cranked up to deal with PTSD. However, this is not about me it is about a young lad who was in my ward. I will cut to the chase: everynight he would wake up and scream terribly and wet the bed. I would sit with him and comfort him and eventually he told me what was haunting him. 

He had been on his first tour of duty in Northern Ireland based in London Derry. On his first Patrol his patrol was hit by an ambush and two  killed. He became seperated from his patrol and panicked. A IRA man found and took his rifle from him, the lad to his shame wet himself and the gunman to his credit stuck his pistol in the boys ear and said in the other ear "Go home to yer Mummy little boy". 

Second story is of a young lad (me) "On the pull" in an Irish Disco. I spotted a young lass of some considerable beauty sat near the dance floor. I wondered over and tried my best chat up line and was told to "feck off", I persisted and her friends told me to "feck off or else". I went and had a drink with the lads and noted she was not a happy looking chick and I dont know why but I blamed myself. I told the lads to watch my back and went over with a gin and orange (style eh!) for her and sat down to a stunned silence from her friends. Looked into her eyes and said "whats your problem then?" She looked at me and said "two fucking tin legs - whats yours". For a second I was gobbed smacked and then said. "right then you can fucking slow dance cant you". She burst into lovely giggles and I managed to save face. I often think of her when someone goes on about the troubles.  I married an Irish gal just like her, but thankfully with both her own legs. More of that another time perhaps. Ill call it living with the enemy!  By God she was a fiesty lass!


I could go on, but whats the point. Lebanon, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Somalia and Bosnia all then took up the remainder of my working life, First as a serviceman and then with the UN. I have seen my gut full of other peoples war. And what have I learnt?  

Well war should be quick very violetn and over fast. There is no room for compassion and all the media and NGOs in the world should stay away, for it is they that feed, arm, prolong and make worse most conflicts......if not all. 

Secondly, If we cannot learn that "thou shalt not kill" is real good advice then a stout pair of Corduroy trouser in a dark colour is a good fashion choice. Because adrenaline is brown!!!!

 

Blatherwyck En Crout Parish news.

Tis cold and miserable with a forecast of more to follow and so dear readers tis time once more to venture into the world of  the Blatherwyck En Crout Parish Newletter. Nestled in the valleys of Upper Denbyshire near Roose on Way just off the old Roman road the A654 near Uxtterby. 

 28th January 2016.
Message from the Rev Harvey Harvest

To those good fellows of this Parish a hearty salutation to you on this third morning after the last one which is the one before the next one in the Roman Calendius Magnus. That is not to confuse this day with the one to come which is after all after lent and before it was borrowed. Ha ha! 

As we slowly approach Candelmus eventide one can see the  good Lord in all his majesty at work within and without and yet mainly without the great countryside thats surrounds us here and there erm and over there! I was only saying to my dearest spouse of 50 happy years the other day how magnificient the rear aspect of her herbaceous border was looking so early in the season, although I thought her bush needed trimming. In short, as we approach spring we may possibly all do with a trim and our hedges the better for it. It is oft forgotten that a Horrbilis Anus follows five years of plenty and this is certainly true in my experience.

 Now, I know we are all very pleased that our dear Deacon - formerly known as Prisoner A38746 - has been released on licence from HMP Wakefield. We, I am sure, will reframe from using any electrical items near his person, as it can effect his tracking device. Any siting of his person outside the or inside the Rose and Crown should be notified to the Police at once.

In other news:
The Brownie Cubs Guides recent amalgamation has been accomplished and the new Pack Owl Mr Sudgrave is in post. The uniform requirements have been somewhat taxing but, following an interjection by Mrs Cynthia Large-Pratt of UKFeminista, the new uniform is as follows:
Rainbow cap                   £3-50                       from LGBT Foundation.com
Scarf and woggle            £4                           Scouting surplus store
T shirt- Im a budding      £8                           LSE Gift Shop. 
Snowflake

                                                           (Mr Sudgrave recent photo)
First meeting is arranged for tuesday 31st at the village hall. Mr Sudgrave has, was and still is keen to assure you that he has been CRB checked to within an inch of his life and that if you have been, or are likely to be even remotely effected by anything concerning this miisive you should hasten to contact the Brown Cubs Guides website before contacting the Police or Claims direct. 

Clay Pigeon Club
Results are in from last weeks event at the Sports Field. 
 Sid sod                  15/20            dropped 5 
Sam Sod                 3/20              drunk
Faith Fartner        1/20              disqualified for shooting at the trap. 
Gilbert Durge        0/20              later confirmed as dead on arrival. 
Mark Mark            17/20           Joint first place and winner of the egg cup for this year. 

Note: New members are always welcome to help clean up. 

Dog Club:

 Have you a K9 friend in need of stimulation, Is your best friend bored and in need of a change of scenery? Then bring Rover to the Dog Club at the village hall on wednesday evenings. Mrs Barberrra Badger - Cumviolently will be only too pleased to help you get the very best from your trusted compatriot and of course yourself. 
Anger management
Boredom
Toilet anxiety
Bone retention issues
Car safety and window dribbling etiquette are all covered. 
As are also many areas effecting your dog.  
With only two weeks instruction you will soon be able to understand your dog simply by the look on his face.

Look at these four photos of Mullberry the malmut. Is he trying to tell you:
A. I really love being here.
B. I want to go now
C. Are you just stupid or what.
D. I give up.
And of course its A.

Soon you will have a dog as happy as this:

Never be afraid to set a low standard and then fail to acheive it. If this is you  and your dogs objective then come along to the dog club on Wednesday and please dont forget a happy dog is a happy owner. To make me happy bring £10 for your first week. Poo bags are free!

See you on Wednesday.

Births Marriage and deaths:
Births:
At home to Mable and Mark Hairlip a very ugly  son or daughter possibly.
Suddenly in a Nissan Qashqai to Edna Truss a daughter.

Marriages
Marriage is announced of Mr David Wimple Bandergast to Miss Wendy Fortisque Bushbaby at St Cripes in the wolds on 24th feb. Immediate relatives only.

Deaths:
Sadly of a tuesday on the bowling green Master John-Jo Oneal 89 years husband of Elsie. Burial at the Council Landfill viewing by prior arrangement with BGM skip hire. Donations directly to Elsie please. No cheques accepted.

Sqn Ldr Mandrake Malcontent-Defibrilator DSO DFC following a shooting accident in his bathroom.

Note:

Please forward any inclusion to be included inclusively to A.Blabberwort@hogwash.com.

Late press: 
Following last night tragic gas explosion at Blathewyck Lodge in which Lady Constance and Major Boil were badly trampled by the herd of domestic Wildebeest in the lower paddock and the subsequent erruption in the sewage water treatment plant in Featherstone lane the Scouts Jamboree has been moved to football club.