Wet Wet Wet: No Blank Cheque: Climbing Crocs: Columbian Cast-orfs: and Palin makes 50.

Usual at the Castle this morn, much lack of warm, oodles of atmospheric movement, bags of skywater and fuck all solar stuff.

It's been an "interesting" last seven days or so, as the old saying goes-no good deed goes unpunished which turned out to be more than true last Thursday.

I pottered over to B&Q in Farnborough to suss out some underwater gardening stuff and saw an old fart (about the same age as me) struggling to get four 6x6 foot fence panels onto one of their stupid trolleys which ran away every time he approached it so I lent a hand and grabbed one end of each and the stuff was loaded in less than no time.

Unfortunately it was pissing dahn with wet stuff and the tanalising stuff ended up all over my hands, later that day large welts started to erupt all over my poor old bod, I spent four days scratching and four dark things not sleeping until I finally managed to acquire an appointment with a general medic (not my usual one) who after being an hour late decided to discuss the pros and cons of wood treatment (apparently arsenic is  no longer used, but a copper thingy is now the in thing) while I sat there scratching parts of my body until they bled.

I finally got the script for some antihistamines and some cream and am now on the mend (again).

 

And His Maj has been getting some unwelcome visitors-a couple of scruffy flea ridden moggies that seem to enjoy stealing his food and pissing all over the kitchen.

So I had a gander at the interweb thingy and found a "smart" cat flap, which has a built in scanner and only opens to His Maj's identity chip, bloody wonderful, took minutes to install, seconds to set up and now he can come and go with impunity, have all his food to himself and sit by the flap giving the equivalent of the finger to said moggies.

I would recommend this do-dah if you have similar problems, the only snag is that it cost almost £60, you can get cheaper "magnetic" flaps but it means that your pussy will have to wear a collar and if like His Maj they don't like things around their necks that can be a prob as well.

Since fitting it there have been no raids and the kitchen smells nice again.

 

 

Apparently the endless skywater is causing quite a few mishaps for many, many people

 

After more than forty light and dark things of rain apparently most of Blighty is submerged, Dickhead Dave has been touring sodden parts of the country to "see" the water and "reassure" the blighted people of Blighty that all will be well and "money will be no object" when it comes to sorting out Noah's puddles.

Yeah right.......

 Unfortunately

 

 

The Secretary of transport, someone named Patrick McLoughlin reckons that there is no "blank cheque" for flooding relief despite Dickhead Dave saying money is "no object".

The Transport Secretary said that the Government would “use every resource” but refused to say that new money will be made available.

Violent winds of up to 100 miles an hour are expected to batter Britain as storms sweep across the country and bring further flooding to some areas.

Forecasters have warned that the storms could bring the strongest winds seen this winter and a month's worth of rain is expected to fall by Friday.

 

So that's sorted that out then.....

 

Somewhere in the Reptilian world

 

A University of Tennessee, Knoxville study has found that reptiles can climb trees. The study concluded that at least four species of crocodiles climbed trees, but how far up they went varied by their sizes. The smaller ones were able to climb higher and further than the larger ones. Some of them were observed climbing as far as four meters high.

The crocodilians seen climbing trees, whether at night or during the day, were skittish of being approached, jumping or falling into the water when an approaching observer was as far as 10 meters away. This response led the researchers to believe that the tree climbing and basking are driven by two conditions: thermoregulation and surveillance of habitat.

 

Better cut the trees dahn around the moat then.

 

Left a lot and dahn a fair bit

 

 Hundreds of people in nothing more than underwear walked through the city of Medellin and gathered at River Park for 'No Pants Day' on Sunday.

New York performance art group Improv Everywhere started No Pants Day in 2002, but it has since grown into an international craze, which is being used by Colombians as a statement for their freedom of expression.

 

What a pants idea....

 

And finally:

 

Left a lot and up a fair bit

 

Allegedly Sarah Palin turns half a century today.

And to celebrate here are some Palin Twatts:

 

"Refudiate," "misunderestimate," "wee-wee'd up." English is a living language. Shakespeare liked to coin new words too. Got to celebrate it!

1.    Sarah Palin ‏@SarahPalinUSA Feb 6

Happy Birthday, Ronald Reagan! February is a month for great presidents. This month we celebrate the birthdays of... http://fb.me/2JcqTtCRj 

 

"But obviously, we've got to stand with our North Korean allies." --Sarah Palin, after being asked how she would handle the current hostilities between the two Koreas, interview on Glenn Beck's radio show, Nov. 24, 2010

"What the federal government should have done is accept the assistance of foreign countries, of entrepreneurial Americans who have had solution that they wanted presented ... The Dutch and the Norwegians, they are known for dikes and for cleaning up water and for dealing with spills." --Sarah Palin, on solving the Gulf oil spill crisis, Fox News, June 15, 2010

 

Here's to the next fifty years....

 

That's it: I'm orf to drive some cells

 

And today's thought:

 

Blighty's future

 

Angus

 

Level Lateness; "L" of a Parrot; Blow up Bovines; and How not to cure Vertigo.

Piss poor day at the Castle this morn, even more skywater, less atmospheric movement, even less lack of cold and sod all solar stuff.

Just returned from the stale bread substitute, gruel and his Maj's food run dahn Tesco, prices are still yo-yoing faster than the Millionaires Club Sideboard changes what is laughingly called its mind, the internet robots seem to have been cloned into many, many arseholes, and they still only have two tills working.

The good news is that the plums have now returned to "normal", I can now sit and even cross my legs, walk loads of yardy things and have a lot more energy, the old blood sugar levels have gorn dahn to around 4.5 and stayed there for quite a few days.

 

Dahn in Zommerzet

After almost forty days of wet stuff the Gov has finally got orf its collective arse and is allegedly going to send what is left of  the army (all seven of them) to "sort out" the floods by sending in amphibious vehicles.

Oh joy, let's hope they are not the same as the ones in London...

 

Up Norf to the left hand part of Yorkshire

 

Apparently a learner driver has had her motor seized by the plod after being caught driving on the M62 accompanied only by a parrot.

The woman, in her 50s, was pulled over on suspicion of speeding near junction 22 of the M62 in West Yorkshire on Sunday morning but officers discovered she only had a provisional licence.

Provisional licence holders are banned from driving on motorways and are only allowed to drive at all when accompanied by a qualified driver.

Apart from the driver herself, the only passenger found by police when they stopped the 4x4 around 8.45am on Sunday morning was a grey parrot.

A spokesman for West Yorkshire Police said the vehicle had been confiscated and the driver is expected to be charged with motor offences including speeding at a later date.

 

What a knob head...she should have made sure Polly had a full licence....

 

Right a whimsy to the land of comatose F1 drivers

 

A herd of dairy cows nearly lifted the roof off their barn in central Germany when methane released by the animals caused an explosion.

Police in Hesse state said in a statement that a static electric charge apparently triggered the detonation, and a spurt of flame, on Monday at a farm in Rasdorf.

The roof was slightly damaged and one cow suffered light burns - no-one was hurt. 

Police say 90 cows are kept in the shed and it wasn't clear why quantities of methane had built up.

Bovine belching and flatulence releases large quantities of the gas.

 

Right a bit more

 

A video has been posted online of a woman trying to cure her fear of heights by walking around the top of a 110m chimney stack.

The 37 second clip, shot in Prague, Czech Republic, shows the woman walking along with a man in strong winds.

It has notched up more than 163,000 hits on LiveLeak where it was described as a "cure for acrophobia".

One confused viewer commented: "How would this help someone with their fear of spiders?"

 

Nah.......

 

That's it: I'm orf to Test out a "Monopole" (And no that isn't a single man from Poland).

 

And today's thought:

 

Stay at home then.

 

Angus

My blue plums have gorn yellow

A wondrous day at the Castle this Sunday morn-oodles of solar stuff, an absence of atmospheric movement, bugger all skywater and even a hint of lack of cold.

Once again many sorries for not replying to comments on the last post, but here is an update of poor old Angus's wobbly bits.

It has taken until today for the old plums to be able to bear the weight of the laptop on my lap top, and indeed just to be able to sit dahn, so I have spent the last two weeks laying dahn and hobbling about like a ruptured Platypus, the bruising from bum-hole to breakfast has reduced muchly, and has gorn from blue-black to yellowish green and the old plums are now a nice shade of banana with a hint of grass.

 

Replies to my friends:

Thanks for all the good wishes:

Blackdog

Not on metformin-allergic-they put me on Clopidogril, Simvastatin, Rampiril and a concoction of other stuff which luckily have not induced any side effects.

I was on fenofibrate for many, many years before this lot kicked orf, and I have procured a blood sugar/glucose thingy from the Diabetes nurse-early days yet.

As for the cheese/ham sandwiches-dahn to a basic lack of understanding/training and not communicating with other departments I think.

 

James

Hope your building has done a Lazarus and is now in fine fettle.

 

CherryPie

The NHS is still in need of intensive care.

 

AK

Nice to be back at the Castle in one piece.

Woodsy42

Not a problem with going in, I waited about five weeks it was getting out of the bloody place that did my old head in.

 

And last but certainly not least Welshcakes.

Nightmare is probably a bit of an understatement, the worst thing was the lack of improvement in the "system".

 

There; all done, I can now put the Laptop away for a while and let my man bits relax as I prepare a nice chicken, new potatoes and mixed veg dinner.

 

Angus

 

Still here

A nice lack of skywater, a nice dose of solar stuff, an even nicer absence of atmospheric movement and an expected amount of lack of warm at the Castle this morn.

 

I managed to survive my "visit" to Grimly Dark Orspital, and am now back on the sofa "resting". 

It was interesting; as this was my first experience as a patient I can only go on what I have been subjected to and the treatment I received.

 

First up, my GP had sanctioned "Orspital Transport" for poor old Angus, it was booked for 11 of the am, unfortunately it turned up at 10 of the am and in my rush to get going I forgot to turn orf the central heating, but the 'concierge' was good humoured and helpful, the driver was a bit of a miserable mare and didn't say a word, but ho-hum.

 

Travelled to Grimly Dark at 57 mph (the transport was limited to that speed)  but arrived safely and was taken to the "Pre OP" do-dah or "POD" an hour early but as the receptionist was orf somewhere collecting the mail ten minutes passed before I was booked in.

Sat waiting for half an hour, then was called to the "ward"-four trolleys jammed into an alcove given a gown and left to change.

 

The nurse (Chinese)  was good, kind and attentive, the staff nurse (non specific nationality but not native) was OK.

I was booked to go dahn to have the old arteries reamed at 2 of the pm, so a nice three and a half hour wait was in store, managed to have a nap and chatted to the two other guys, one had been there since 7 of the am and had just been told that he had been bumped to the afternoon list, the other one was taken away almost immediately and I never saw him again.

The nurse did a few checks-blood pressure, sats and a blood sugar thingy, time passed, no food or drink, then at 1.45 of the pm I was taken to the "theatre", stayed on the trolley in the waiting bit, the nurses (one Polish and one Brit) chatted and gave me an extra blanket because of the lack of heat.

2 of the pm came and went, as did 2.30 and three of the pm then just after 3 the organic mechanic turned up, sort of explained what he was going to do, got me to sign a consent thingy and then pissed orf for another half hour.

 

Taken into the theatre at 3.45, the organic mechanic returned with another who was concerned that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since eight that morning, told her it was because that is what the letter said that they sent me, "I will change that she said".

Removed the boxers and got onto the bed thingy was painted orange from belly button to dangly bits covered up with a big paper sheet do-dah and a couple of stick on holey things either side of the man veg.

Said first organic mechanic then proceeded to inject local anaesthetic in the left side next to the dangly bits, did a bit of pushing and shoving while the nurse was asking me questions-address, name, age, what am I allergic to etc.

Then the OM inserted a balloon into the numb groiny bit and told me to tell him when it hurt---did I......then he said he was going to put a stent in which he did.

 All done, all I had to do now was remain flat on my back and not move for two hours, then stay still for another four hours.

 

Taken back to POD on the trolley, stayed on the trolley for two hours while the nurse did "obs" every half hour-blood pressure, sats, pulse and the inevitable blood sugar thingy.

Then I was allowed to sit up a bit, and given a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich.

By now it was getting on for 6 of the pm and the POD closed at seven so a hectic race was on to find me a bed.

 

After many, many phone calls a "bed" was found and much to my surprise after spending eight hours on the trolley was whisked orf to "Parkside" the private Orspital attached to Grimly Dark.

Oh joy I thunk, private room, en-suite and a TV, it turned out that the room was vacant because the roof had leaked, and there was no remote for the TV.

And to be really honest I would rather they had put me in the car park because it would have been quieter, the "sister" was a German who could only communicate at decibel levels above 100 and I swear she was marching up and dahn the corridor all bloody night in her jack boots, and on the roof of the room was a stonking great air-con thingy which cut in and out every fifteen minutes, add that to the hourly obs-blood pressure, sats, pulse and the inevitable blood sugar tests ( I had run out of fingers to prick) poor old Angus didn't get much sleep.

 

But the night finally ended, the hourly obs stopped, the German Reich Fuhrer buggered orf and was replaced by a very nice English lady.

I managed to have a pee, staggered up the corridor to get a cup of coffee, someone found a remote and life became almost bearable.

 

Breakfast arrived-cold scrambled eggs, cold hash browns and a warm coffee, more obs, yet more blood sugar thingies, then I waited from six of the morn to eleven of the same morn for a medic to arrive to discharge me, and as buses do four arrived at once, none of them was the Consultant I saw or either of the organic mechanics but a boss lady two F something's or other and a pompous, patronising, posh Pratt of a pillock who waltzed in, turned orf the TV and ordered me to drop my kecks and get on the bed so that he could take a peek at the old groin.

We had a short discussion about using the weed, which he lost, and then he minced out shouting instructions to someone about statins and other stuff.

I was not given any information about post op care, what I could and couldn't do or what to do if it all went tits up.

 

The nice English lady came in and said that they had the stuff I needed in the drugs cabinet and that would save me having to wait several hours for the pharmacy to deliver them from fifty yards away.

Boxes of stuff in hand I was then allowed to get dressed and found out that someone had lost my boxers, so I was given a pair of paper undies to keep me decent.

Then I was taken to the "Patients Lounge" to await transport back to the Castle, given a cup of tea and waited three hours before a ham sandwich arrived and I got so fed up with sitting there feeling my groin swell up  that I phoned a taxi and came home.

 

Now, as I said as this was my first time at Grimly Dark as a patient I can only report what happened to me.

 Whether my experience was "normal" or not I don't know, what I do know is that it seems that very little has changed since 2005 when Mrs Angus was killed by the poxy place, I don't care what the CQC says.

The nurses, staff nurses and ancillary staff were excellent but once you got above the front line ranks things were sadly familiar, lack of care, lack of information, lack of common sense and worse of all lack of empathy for the patients (me).

Whether I was given a private room because "they" remembered me from 2005 I don't know, or whether it was just fortune or not is beyond me, but if it was the first they failed to impress, the system is badly flawed, no one speaks to anyone else, departments are separate kingdoms, the "that's not my job" ethic is rife and despite all the money thrown at it this particular part of the NHS it does not come up to the standards expected or deserved by the old or the sick who rely on the "service".

 

All in all not a satisfying experience, mentioning the nationalities of the staff involved is not racism, just a hint of how much we rely on immigration to keep the old girl going and how hard the "soldiers" work to try to offset the arrogance and ignorance of those that make the big bucks and sit in their top floor offices whist the patients spend untold hours of their lives waiting.

So as I sit here contemplating my black plums and the bruises from arsehole to navel I wonder; would I do it again, or worse what is in store for me as I stagger even further dahn the road to dotage and the final reckoning.

 

Only time will tell......

 

 

 

Angus

Sod orf Twenty Eleventy two

Oodles of skywater, even more lack of warm, more than enough atmospheric movement and not a glimmer of solar stuff at the Castle this last day of 2013.

 

Not been a good year for poor old Angus, bits have dropped orf, clogged up and gone tits up, Grimly Dark Orspital  got in touch yestermorn to tell me that I will have to go in to have the arteries reamed next Tuesday instead of Wednesday because "there is a big case coming in" which will apparently take all day in the short stay surgery thingy.

Makes you feel important and cared for-not.

 

But it has been an even worse year for some people-Michael Schumacher is apparently at death's door after falling orf a couple of flat sticks orf the piste.

 

 

The old fella dahn in Sarf Africa finally shuffled orf this mortal coil after a very bad year and to show their love and respect his body was dragged up and dahn the country to be put on show like an exhibit in a freak show for days on end by the "management".

 

Others who popped orf include-Peter O'Toole, Frank Thornton (who is now finally free), Lou Reed and of course Maggie (I fucked up the country more than anyone else) Thatcher, Mikhail (my product has killed many, many people) Kalashnikov, Ronnie (good riddance) Biggs, and loads of others who I can't be bovvered to mention.

 

But there is some "good" news:

 

Ex Nazi El Papa Benedict XVI took the easy way out and "retired" instead of  doing the right thing and expiring, and is now living in luxury in the Vatican probably surrounded by young boys and jack boots.

 

And despite the best efforts of Dickhead Dave and No Nuts Nick the economy has steadied, mainly due to the Private sector, which would have happened anyway regardless of the Piss Poor Millionaires Club Coalition attempts to equal Thatcher.

 

The New Year Honours list has been published

 

 

Who gives a shit......

 And those who own the big white windmill thingies

Have apparently been paid oodles of loot to switch off their turbines while storms lashed the UK over the festive period and tens of thousands of homes were left without power, according to figures published today.

No change there then..... 

 

But enough of all this doom and gloom, let's look forward to 2014, may it be better in all ways than this one, may all your dreams be fulfilled, may your bank balance equal that of the members of the sideboard and may your standard of living rise beyond your wildest hopes.

 And if you believe that........

 

That's it: I'm orf to eat my face 

And today's thought: 

 

Yeah right.......

 

The next post will be an old Farts first hand view of the National Elf service...

 Angus

62 is a dodgy old age

 

 

Much lack of warm, even more skywater, just as much atmospheric movement and I haven't seen dawn's crack for days.

Returned from the stale bread, gruel and his Maj's food run dahn Tesco, got there before seven of the am-bloody mayhem, lunatics all over the place scooping shelf loads of Crimbo stuff into their  overloaded trolleys, blocking all the aisles and wandering around like zombies gazing into space.

What with that and the multitude of internet robots dressed in their "Onesies" creeping about and chatting in some foreign language it was not a pleasant experience.

Anyway, back to the heading, nature has not been good to poor old Angus, the elbow is still more than a bit painful, the old arteries are more than a bit clogged up and it seems that type 2 diabetes has taken hold.

Orf  to Grimly Dark 'Orspital on the 8th of January to have the tubes reamed out (oh joy), and am on so many tablets that I don't know if I am punched or bored, but I am feeling a bit better.

On the good side his Maj is blooming, he is now a big lad and is still just as batty.

 

Many sorries to all readers and commenter's who have bothered to keep visiting, and not received a reply or a new post, once Crimbo is over I may begin blogging again.

 So here's a Happy Crimbo to All and Sundry, wishing you good health and much luck of the good kind in the coming year.

 

Angus

The time has come the old fart said

To talk of many things: of dickhead Dave--and  gobshite George--of cabbages and kings--and whether pigs have wings.

Still more than bleedin hot, still no atmospheric movement, and just enough skywater over the dark thing to make the "muggy" even more so.

But the "new" Honda sailed through the MOT with no thingies, the "lawn" has turned into a giant wheetabix and I am having to stagger about with the watering can many, many times a day.

His Maj is full of the joys of something and the elbow still hurts more than a digital prostate exam.

 

So: in order:

 

Dickhead Dave, you know that bloke who lives in Downing street, isn't gay and leaves his kids behind in pubs.

I see that his latest "policy" is to tell us what we can and can't access on the interweb thingy, it appears that the only way to stop brats from watching porny stuff is to block it from every user in Blighty unless one wants to tell one's provider that one wants to watch porny stuff.

Here's an idea-why not put the onus on parents to police their ignorant, arrogant snotty nosed teens from banging one orf whilst "surfing".

 

Gobshite George-that other bloke who also lives in Downing Street, isn't gay and couldn't organise a stiffy in a knocking shop.

Allegedly alien reptile in disguise George (I want to plunge Blighty back into an even deeper recession than the Bankers managed) and chancer of the exchequer Osborne wants to lend mortgage money to people who can't afford it and guarantee the upcoming toxic debts with our fucking money.

He really doesn't have a clue does he.

 

 

Then we have the cabbages-otherwise known as the BBC "management" who seem to think that all and sundry in baking Blighty are so dim that we want to watch "news" about the birth of yet another Royal bloodsucker continuously for two endless fucking days and nights.

 

Expensive, boring Royal bollocks.

 

Which brings me to "Kings"

 

After what seems like nine months Pippa's sister has finally dropped the next, next, next King of Blighty amid thunder storms, lightening and torrential rain, and after looking at the pic I have come to the conclusion that the Anti-Christ has finally arrived,

Wonder if he will have ginger hair.

 

 

Do pigs have wings?

They must have if this .... millionaires club coalition think that they can sort Blighty out.

 

 

That's it: the elbow is giving me more than jip, still I can finally have some physio on August 20th, only three months after my General medic referred me.

 

Back again sometime....

 

 

Angus