Friday, 13 July 2012

What a bleedin shambles.

Sunnyish, cloudyish, windyish, rainyish and coldish at the Castle this morn, the left elbow is a pain in ........the elbow and I don’t have the energy for a “proper” post. So here is the Angus Dei viewpoint on poor old busted Blighty.

Shambles-plural of sham·bles (Noun)

Noun:  A state of total disorder.

A butcher's slaughterhouse- (archaic except in place names).

It seems that the Piss Poor Policies Millionaires Club Coalition has managed to balls just about everything up- 

The latest debacle is the Olympic security cock up, which has already cost us more than a smidge of loot promised to G4S for a job not well done at all and will cost us even more when the extra almost redundant soldiers who will lose their leave and spend a couple of weeks camping out in the Smoke arrive.
And as well as being over budget the Olympics is unfortunately...over here:

But the word “Shambles (either definition)” can also be applied to the following:

The economy




Social services


Fuel prices

Water management/prices

The railways

Gas prices


Leccy prices

And after not being able to go to the next town for a week because of the Farnborough Air Show I won’t be able to visit friends in the Smoke for two weeks without avoiding “Olympic lanes”, bus lanes, the congestion charge, detours, overcrowded trains, traffic jams and watching the petrol gauge slowly sinking towards empty as I sit among hundreds of thousands of sheep trying to get to work.

I still love this country, the shite weather, the fields of gold, the plains of water, the exorbitant parking charges if you go anywhere and the ‘slightly’ eccentric populace which still manages to function despite all the chaos. 

What I don’t love is the non-elected tosspots that inhabit the leaning tower of Westminster who are it seems incapable of rational thought, logic and seeing further than the end of their wallets when it comes to “what is best for Blighty”. 

I am tired of endless packs of MPs who couldn’t organise an erection in a cat house farting around with All and Sundry and their inept ramblings whilst trying to “Govern” what is left of the soon to be not United Kingdom while the old are treated as the fall people for all the ills in the world, the young are being left to rot on the temporary dole, people are dying of thirst in hospitals, taxes are rising faster than the speed of time, money is poured into countries that don’t seem to have a government of their own while pensioners look forward to spending their dotage in “care homes” waiting to pop orf so that the Gov can recoup costs by selling their houses and depriving the next generation of home ownership. 

It seems to me that Blighty is on the edge of a catastrophic collapse which will see us revert to the eighteenth century with work houses, debtor’s prisons, and vast numbers of homeless people begging on the streets while the rich will live in their gated estates surrounded by immigrant serfs tugging the forelock to their masters. 

It may not get that bad of course but the signs are there, the rich are still getting richer and the poor are still getting poorer, the family has almost gone, morals seem to have gone the way of a broken compass, the young hate the old, the old have not much future and those between are stuck with mortgages, kids, rising prices and no time to consider the big picture. 

Apparently in fifty years time things will be even worse, luckily I won’t be around to see it but shouldn’t those in charge change tack a bit, be a bit more “Blighty-ish” and concentrate on the UK, get us out of the EU stop giving our money to countries that can’t look after themselves, cancel all the Piss Poor “reforms” and try to make life a bit better for those of us who still live here? 

The money is there, it’s just that “they” don’t know how to allocate it, or to take a step back and have butchers at what is really going on.


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