Burning down the house

Apparently a whole load of dole claiming smelly crusties are going to be decending on London today to set up a "climate camp" for, well, just for shits and giggles I guess but they will be banging on about global warming/cooling (take your pick) and no doubt teaching each other circus skills (which is always juggling and not dressing up like a clown and driving around in a car with the doors falling off) and knitting their own tofu. Apparently this is supposed to draw attention to the weather or something.

I trust that names and IDs will be being checked and anyone claiming benefits will have them immediately stopped for that week as they are clearly not available for work? No, thought not. Keep paying your taxes so these cunts can carry on inconveniencing you, you climate criminal dragon.

Meanwhile up in swamp-world we've had a bit of a fire and a nice company which does very environmentally sound work in recycling car tyres has gone up in flames and, apparently, the advice from the Environment agency is not to put the fire out and just let it burn itself out. I drove past it this morning on the way to the station and there is a mound of tyres that must be 8 or 9 metres high, 20 metres wide and dog knows how deep merrily blazing away. I can see the smoke from the lair and that's 8 miles away and every now and again the wind changes direction and you get the whiff of burning rubber, sort of like an oily coal smell like you get around steam engines which isn't entirely unpleasant but I can't imagine it's very healthy. That and the fact that this thing is probably generating the same amount of CO₂ every minute that I would have to drive my big fuck off 4x4 around the world from now until doomsday to make.

Bet you won't see any climate campers outside there any time soon.

Nyarrrrr

I see from this that the BNP have a new, sure-fire way of recruiting the critical mass they need and enabling them to usher in a new thousand year reich of not being very nice to the darkies.

The British National Party is using English Folk songs ...the BNP is very much on the look out for a "political soundtrack".

Yep. Folk music. That ought to do the job.

You can just see the rallies now. Lots of smartly turned out young men marching in perfect drill, tons of flags, Nick Griffin in a silly moustache and some weirdybeard folkie in the corner playing an accordion and singing "The Lincolnshire Poacher". Finger in the ear here we go.

Oh I'm a computer programmer
From sunny Milton Keynes
During the week I wear a suit
At the weekend I wear jeans
And it's my delight on a Friday night
To cook some haricot beans.¹

I wonder if Dave Cameron's Tories would be interested in picking up the contracts of all those "Oi!" bands now that the BNP have gone acoustic.


¹ © Alexi Sayle, who still is funny.

More pocket wolves

Loki


Freyja


Not sure what they call themselves but they certainly don't know their names. At least they are generally starting to crap on the newspaper now.

You are allow to go "awwww, cute!" for a few moments if you wish.

Pocket Wolves

I has them.



Sorry about the crappy picture but this was the best I could do with my phone at the time.

Please say hello to Loki and Freyja, little furry bundles of 11 week old Alaskan Malamute cuteness. Into everything, piddling on the floor and crapping something that appears to be a combination of toxic waste and velcro.

More pics to follow (of the dogs, not the crap)

Please to be speaking up as you are the dyings

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/8163930.stm

The National Flu Service is expected to go live later, giving thousands of swine flu sufferers access to drugs without needing to consult a GP.

The phone and website service, which will only cover England, is the first of its kind in the world.

...

Dr Richard Vautrey, of the British Medical Association, which has helped to design the checklist being used by the flu service, said: "What we have to remember is that this is a unique situation.

"So as long as the call handlers get the correct training we can be confident in this service."

Yeah, right. Something like this then...

Good Morning. My name is Gupta, how can I be of helping you?

You are having the sneezings and ache of the head and sore of throat yes? And you are the saying you are keeping the random motherfuckers on fire setting? And you are saying all you can smell is the truffle?

I am the thinking perhaps you have the piggy flu. Please give me your name so I can the medicine be getting for you.

I am sorry I am not understanding. Please can you be spelling name.

D for Dupiaza yes?

Is that A as in Aloo?

No is R as in Raita?

Now is A for Aloo?

Now is G for something in indian food that start with G

I am the sorry line is not good here in Delhi, please to be roaring more loudly Mr Draggle

Atishoink

Oh wonderful. Yesterday we had an email round saying that someone has gone off with "self diagnosed suspected swine flu" - which probably means he has a sniffle and fancied a few days off. However as it seems he was over in our office on Monday and had a lengthy meeting with someone on my team who sits on the next bank of desks the whole of that desk row has been quarantined - which means sent home and told not to come in for 4 days in case they suddenly start oinking and developing a really good nose for truffles.

Of course this now means that everyone on my team is now at home putting their feet up and watching Richard and Judy and left holding the fort is one very, very pissed off small green dragon.

Also the person that our latter day Typhoid Mary happened to be meeting was someone I subsequently spent the rest of the Monday afternoon with plus a good portion of Tuesday sharing a keyboard as we did some pair programming and fixed a couple of problems. So if this is genuine I'm fully expecting to start turning pink and squealing come the end of the week.

If you cross a dragon and a pig do you get a pigeon?

Kicking kids whilst they're down

Snapped this on the train the other day.



Bloody hell, can you imagine anything worse that this. You're a kid, you're probably in pain, you're probably scared and then some numpty with greasepaint all over it's fizzog starts leaping around the ward making a racket, getting in the way of the nursing staff and waving shit in your face, oh sorry that would be "turning the ward into a magical playspace".

Just look at the kid - the little fucker is petrified!

Look clowns are not funny, never have been, never will be. They are also definitely the wrong side of the cute - creepy axis so if you're a kid in hospital do all your fellow patients a favour and if a "clown doctor" comes into your ward in a stupid car with the doors falling off beat it to death with your drip stand.

It's allowed, killing clowns is justifiable homicide. I looked it up on Wikipedia so it must be true.

Blame it on the buggy

All your dead child molester pop star jokes all in one place for your convenience!

What’s the difference between Alex Ferguson and Michael Jackson… fergie will be playing giggs this summer.

It’s a shame he’s died. He touched so many young people in so many ways.

Jackson has cancelled all his upcoming dates… They were James (aged 11) and Thomas (aged 9)

undertakers have announced that when Michael Jackson dies he will be melted down to make plastic toys so kids can play with him for a change.

Michael Jackson whispered a brief message to the paramedics before reaching the hospital…”put me on the children’s ward”.

reports he died of a cardiac arrest are incorrect… he was actually found in the children’s ward having a stroke

Just heard he died of food poisoning… Got it from eating 12 year old nuts

out of respect McDonalds have released the mc Jackson burger, 50 year old meat between 10 year old buns

They now think he died by falling over a child’s pram…..but Doctors say it’s too early to “Blame it on the buggy”

Michael's dying wish was to be melted down and made into plastic carrier bags; that way he could stay white, live forever and remain a danger to children.

The oxygen of publicity

Oh look, we seem to have managed to return a couple of everyone's favourite cuddly fascists to the huge trough that it the EU Parliament (whose troughing by MEPs makes our MPs look like they are daintily nibbling on a lettuce leaf). They even managed to win a county council seat in Burnley West - well they were never going to win Burnley East as that's where all the folk from Pakistan live. Seig t' Heil as they say up there.

Accordingly all the lefties, media luvvies and especially mainstream politicos are doing lots of hand wringing and navel gazing and wondering what happened to Britain to make it turn into such an evil racist nation. Er guys, the BNP's share of the vote actually fell in real terms and people vote for them because they are addressing some legitimate concerns that some of the electorate have.

Look I grew up in Burnley and the people there are not on the whole racists and certainly not fascists but they see large numbers of immigrants from the Indian sub-continent settling in specific areas, turning then into de-facto ghettos, said immigrants generally not integrating and they genuinely feel their culture is being swamped and that it is these ghettos (which are naturally in the poorer parts of town) getting the lions' share of the funding (whether that's true or not - and if not then it's a failure on the point of the mainstream politicians to get this message across). The mainstream politicians, especially Labour in which should be a piss-easy seat for them to win, are ignoring these concerns leaving an open goal for the BNP to shoot at.

But are the left going to address these concerns from what should be their natural supporters? Are they fuck. No what is obviously needed is to, oh I dunno, let's throw some eggs at Nick Griffin, that'll work.

No, all that does is give him the oxygen of publicity, show you cuntrumpets up as the idiots you are and allow Nicky-boy to claim the moral high ground and further keep his gurning fizzog leering out at me from every sodding newspaper's front page in the pissing land.

Look, leave him to rant and rave, the press will get bored in a week and move on to Jordan's latest tit-job. But you need to reach out to your core vote or they'll just be back voting for "the wrong party" next time.

Broken Doors

On the train to work this morning one of the doors is broken. If you push the button to open the door it just clicks and hisses at you like an irritated snake and refuses to budge.

How do I know this? Because at absolutely every bastard stop from King's Lynn to Cambridge some numpty, often several numpties, have pushed the door open button despite there being not one but two signs on the door with a pictogram depicting a train door with a big red line through it which even Slime Beasts of the Planet Zod could work out means "These doors are broken". Presumably it's this international wordless sign so we don't upset any uppity immigrants who would then sue for "distress and anxiety" because the train company didn't write "Out of Order" in their fucking language

OK so the brain dead trolls employed by National Distress East Anglia have stuck the signs on upside down but the meaning is still, I would posit, pretty clear.

Ah, another station, Whittlesford Parkway... Proper commuter belt now, maybe it was just the webbed fingered bog dwellers of the fens who are too dense to work out that when the sign says "Broken door" there is a fighting chance that said door won't open.

Click... Hisssssss... Click... Hisssssss....

Audley End maybe?

Click... Hisssssss... Click... Hisssssss....

Fucking hell I despair.