Weather-stonking at the Castle this morn, the garden is looking very garden-ish, his Maj is tearing around as if his life depended upon it and I am still nursing my damaged Iliofemoral joint.
I watched the “ladies” final at Wombleland yesterday but had to mute the sound because of Sharascreamers decibel level, and will watch the “Gentlemen’s” final today, why? Because I am paying £12.49 a month to the Beeb and I want my monies worth.
So as I lay here on the sofa; what is left of my mind has turned to my standard of living, my prospects and my retirement.
And I am fed up.
Fed up with some ginger haired schoolboy Muppet telling me when I can finally give up the toil and have a bit of a rest.
Fed up with that fat bastard Eric (if it moves eat it) Pickles going on and on about rubbish, when the answer is to send it all round to his house and he will devour it as a snack.
Fed up with having to pay a King’s ransom every time I put a pint of petrol in the Honda: sounds very fishy to me.
Fed up with the fifty percent increase in my car insurance policy cost, so that I can fund those knob heads who have bruised a finger in an “accident” and demand £20,000 in compo, using the “personal injury” blood sucking lawyers, and those morons who think it is OK to drive a two ton weapon around our streets without insurance because they don’t have the IQ of a cabbage.
Fed up with the Piss Poor Policies Millionaires Club Coalition making Piss Poor Policies-U-Turning, then coming up with yet more Piss Poor Policies so that they can spin around again.
Really fed up with the bunch of Eton shirt lifting know nothings who haven’t been elected and seem to think that the only way to reduce the “deficit” is to hammer the have not’s apart from son of a B...aronet George (reptilian alien in disguise) Osborne who apparently is regarded by the un elected tossers as an “OIK” because he only went to St Pauls (at the cost of £20,000 per year).
And finally:
Leave me alone, I am alright, I still manage to write (sort of), can still read (unlike a large percentage of the young), I can even manage to wash and dress myself, feed myself, drive a car and even do shopping without the need for seventy five “carers” employed at a vast cost to the tax payer, and I have been known to go out and enjoy myself occasionally.
So a message to “them” who seem to think that getting on a bit is comparable to being a mass murderer who steals the food from children’s mouths-FUCK OFF!
And finally, finally:
A Finnish pair has won the country's annual wife-carrying competition for the third year in a row.
Taisto Miettinen and Kristiina Haapanen defended their title in front of 6,500 spectators who turned out to watch the celebrated event in Sonkajarvi.
The 46-year-old lawyer, his partner's legs wrapped around his head, sprinted 253 metres, leaping hurdles and negotiating a water pool along the way, all in a time of one minute.
Less than a second behind them were Estonian rivals Alar Voogla and Kristi Viltrop, while a Lithuanian couple came third.
Cheaper than a taking her out for a meal I suppose.
Bicyclists in eastern Oregon say they're getting whacked on the head by an angry bird.
Riders in Pendleton, Ore., told the East Oregonian that a male hawk is dive-bombing them because they're too close to a nest he's guarding in an old cottonwood tree.
Bicyclist Mack Temple says the bird came in from behind like a fighter plane and whacked his helmet. Another rider, Charlie Newhouse, says the attack on his helmet was "like getting hit with a baseball bat." He says the talons went in through the helmet.
Bird-watchers say the large bird is a Swainson's hawk. The riders say he's been vigilant for a few nesting seasons, but hasn't been as aggressive as this year.
Bird-watchers say the hawk will ease up once his brood learns to fly.
I have no problem with that....
And today’s thought: "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."-Confucius.
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