Morning Mugs,
Well that was a fun few weeks ...not. We've had weeks of obfuscation, lying, denials, made up stats, fake news, cowardice and arse-gravy bollocks talk all ending up with a serial liar running the country for the next 5 years.
Yes, you voted Tory to stick one on Labour with their shit leadership and Unicorn policies, but in doing so, you have made your own bed and will have to lie in it. And when you come fucking whinging and crying, I for one shall say 'fuck you' because you now deserve everything you get.
But that aside, where else could you have gone? The Lib Dems have been on life support since Nick Clegg decided to get into bed with the Tories of Cameron rather than the ideologically closer Gordon Brown. That I fear was a fatal mistake, despite the Lib Dems providing a brake on the rampant Tory-ism we could have seen then, and have seen since. No other party under 'first past the post' (FPTP) will eve again more than a few seats in the single digits. Unless of course the SNP decide to run in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. In which case they'd get my vote.
No, the field is now decidedly blue. The Tories have an 80 seat majority that even a 1997 Blair like swing won't be enough to get Labour back into power. The far left have such a grip on the party that they seem happy to accept 30 years plus in opposition, a weak and ineffective opposition still plying their vastly unpopular far left policies in the hope the electorate wilt and decide it's the best way. Hell genuinely has a chance of appearing, then freezing over before that happens.
In my lifetime of voting, 40 years exactly now, I have seen one Labour leader win an election, and he won three on the bounce, matching the best the Tories have ever won consecutively. Tony Blair. Now I realise he can get people's anger up over Iraq, but the truth is we had to back Bush and the US in that campaign, that's our treaty under both the UN and NATO. And the hard fact is, Saddam was an evil cunt that did need removing. They should have taken Mugabe, and whichever Kim was in charge of North Korea out as well.
My bigger point is that holding Blair as a bad leader for one fuck up, when Thatcher is lauded, although she allowed the Argies to walk in to the Falklands and engineer a war to bolster her popularity, is hugely hypocritical. Just about everything else was pretty good. And let's be honest, no government is fuck up free. Labour needs to recapture the centre ground. It needs to realise that when you tell the centre moderate eft to fuck off as they are Tory lite, then don't be surprised when they do.
Labour needs to realise that blaming Blair, Campbell, the Lib Dems, the Greens, Brexit, the mainstream media and for all I know, the fucking boogie is never going to get them into power. Moderate, progressive, meritocratic socialist policies can win the public over if delivered by a party of reason, that embraces a broad church and isn't anti-semitic and despatches the far left idiots to the Communist Party. Without that, then it faces decades of obscurity. See that Tony Blair fellow? He knew how to win. Learn the lesson from him, learn the lessons of this embarrassing defeat. Until you win then your ability to change anything is fuck all, zero, zilch.
Later Mugs, GJ
Wednesday 18 December 2019
Tuesday 17 December 2019
Back soon....
Morning Mugs
I'm doing a little freebie course on Humanism.....no....seriously......it's a sort of addition to the stuff I studied for my degree. So when it's done (this week with luck and effort) then there's lots to write about...isn't there?
Later Mugs, GJ
I'm doing a little freebie course on Humanism.....no....seriously......it's a sort of addition to the stuff I studied for my degree. So when it's done (this week with luck and effort) then there's lots to write about...isn't there?
Later Mugs, GJ
Tuesday 19 November 2019
The Multi-buy Age
Afternoon Mugs,
I'm 58. Fifty-fucking-eight. It seems like just yesterday I was being a miserable fucker when hitting 30, a much happier person at 40, and to be honest even better at 50. I think 50 was the realisation that I no longer gave a fuck about very much other than family and pets and those close intimate things that make life worth living. It takes that long to work out what the fuck actually matters.
Since then it's been a joy for the most part, apart from the regular failings in a body that the brain thinks can still do various things it could do at 10, 20, 30 etc......this is of course wrong. Everyday something else aches. I ache in bed. I ache during the day and need more sleep, but seem to get less than ever. That is another blog post subject though.
However , one of the joys is the realisation that I no longer have to worry about being in fashion. I can choose clobber that is comfortable, warm when cold, cool when it's hot. No skinny jeans here. No underwear to be seen outside of my jeans unless the fly is open. No baseball caps (they're pretty much worn by idiots anyway). I now wear lovely flat caps. I have a wax jacket. Sensible coats. Sensible and pragmatic clobber all round. I like the latest gadgets, I love my iPhone, my iPad, my iMac, my iPod (yes Apple haven me in their grip) and my Apple Watch.
But one thing is very clear.....when I buy stuff now, stuff that fits, stuff that does the job it's supposed to, stuff that enhances my life and stuff In like ..I now more often than not buy 2 or more of them?
A pack of socks made by Jeep that are good for walking and are warm? I'll have 2 packs then. And then I'll double the order. Got a nice quilted jacket that's waterproof and warm, buy one in black and orange and one in khaki and green. Walking boots....one pair is not enough, I need a backup pair. Deal sorted. Summer cargo shorts? Why not have 6 pairs? Trousers that convert to shorts? Yep, think I'll have 5 pairs please. Apple Watch extra bands.....4 please ...different colours. Phone case? Yep, 2 please, different colours. Charlie Tyrhitt shirts? 4 for £100...blimey.....I'll have 12 then. Glasses? I'll have 3 normal pairs, a prescription sunnies pair and a pair of this that change in the sun from clear to dark.
And it goes on. Even down to buying a bag of frozen fruit..get two. Porridge? I'll have 2 packs then. I buy loo roll at 135 packs a time through Groupon. Bin bags are bought in bulk. Dishwasher tablets at 200 a time.
You get the drift. Some might call it stockpiling, but I've spoken to lots of blokes my age who do similar to either greater or lesser degree. I think it's a fear of finally finding something that is worth the money and does what you want, and the rational fear that in future it won't exist...it will be replaced by something close but not the same, and therefore won't be as good.
I have no intention of changing this policy at any time. It's security. A comfort blanket. A cuggy. It's a bloke thing. it's now an entry criteria into the Guild of Grumpy Blokes (also open to women).
Later Mugs, GJ
I'm 58. Fifty-fucking-eight. It seems like just yesterday I was being a miserable fucker when hitting 30, a much happier person at 40, and to be honest even better at 50. I think 50 was the realisation that I no longer gave a fuck about very much other than family and pets and those close intimate things that make life worth living. It takes that long to work out what the fuck actually matters.
Since then it's been a joy for the most part, apart from the regular failings in a body that the brain thinks can still do various things it could do at 10, 20, 30 etc......this is of course wrong. Everyday something else aches. I ache in bed. I ache during the day and need more sleep, but seem to get less than ever. That is another blog post subject though.
However , one of the joys is the realisation that I no longer have to worry about being in fashion. I can choose clobber that is comfortable, warm when cold, cool when it's hot. No skinny jeans here. No underwear to be seen outside of my jeans unless the fly is open. No baseball caps (they're pretty much worn by idiots anyway). I now wear lovely flat caps. I have a wax jacket. Sensible coats. Sensible and pragmatic clobber all round. I like the latest gadgets, I love my iPhone, my iPad, my iMac, my iPod (yes Apple haven me in their grip) and my Apple Watch.
But one thing is very clear.....when I buy stuff now, stuff that fits, stuff that does the job it's supposed to, stuff that enhances my life and stuff In like ..I now more often than not buy 2 or more of them?
A pack of socks made by Jeep that are good for walking and are warm? I'll have 2 packs then. And then I'll double the order. Got a nice quilted jacket that's waterproof and warm, buy one in black and orange and one in khaki and green. Walking boots....one pair is not enough, I need a backup pair. Deal sorted. Summer cargo shorts? Why not have 6 pairs? Trousers that convert to shorts? Yep, think I'll have 5 pairs please. Apple Watch extra bands.....4 please ...different colours. Phone case? Yep, 2 please, different colours. Charlie Tyrhitt shirts? 4 for £100...blimey.....I'll have 12 then. Glasses? I'll have 3 normal pairs, a prescription sunnies pair and a pair of this that change in the sun from clear to dark.
And it goes on. Even down to buying a bag of frozen fruit..get two. Porridge? I'll have 2 packs then. I buy loo roll at 135 packs a time through Groupon. Bin bags are bought in bulk. Dishwasher tablets at 200 a time.
You get the drift. Some might call it stockpiling, but I've spoken to lots of blokes my age who do similar to either greater or lesser degree. I think it's a fear of finally finding something that is worth the money and does what you want, and the rational fear that in future it won't exist...it will be replaced by something close but not the same, and therefore won't be as good.
I have no intention of changing this policy at any time. It's security. A comfort blanket. A cuggy. It's a bloke thing. it's now an entry criteria into the Guild of Grumpy Blokes (also open to women).
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 15 November 2019
Litter
Afternoon Mugs,
I have 2 dogs now. After getting the first I very quickly realised what a bunch of horrible fuckers we are when it comes to finding a fucking bin to dump coke scans, baby wipes, red bull cans, cigarette packets, sweet wrappers, tissue paper, cake wrappers, old sock.(yes old socks ffs) and Christ only knows what else. I also discovered some people don't think the responsibility of being a dog owner means picking up your dogs shit after they've had a dump. But walking a dog mens you get top see this because ....well....dogs are greedy fuckers that will eat anything pretty much put in front of them, including some or all of the stuff mentioned above. And I am not at all happy about removing manky old socks from either dogs mouth. Or tissues ..or anything other than a freshly broken stick from a nearby tree.
I mean, how hard is it to just shove the litter in a carrier bag and dump it in one of the numerous bins in the village? I don't want to stereotype but my guess is the majority of the litter is left by teenagers which think it isn't cool to use a bin, or are downright dirty filthy shitbags, or have been too busy fingering or wanking each other in the dark of the corner of the field to remove the leftovers of their pre-fumble feast. At least that's how I remember it......
Dog owners who don't pick up their hounds shit are just lazy parcels of fuckwittery and cuntishness. I'd love to be like Liam Neesson in Taken, so fucking hard that when I saw this happen I could successfully rub the owners faces in the shit and then use their hands to wipe the dogs arse. Having broken their noses first.
Moral? Don't be a lazy, good for nothing littering, dog shit abandoning moron. Because I'm losing my shit over this......
Later Mugs , GJ
I have 2 dogs now. After getting the first I very quickly realised what a bunch of horrible fuckers we are when it comes to finding a fucking bin to dump coke scans, baby wipes, red bull cans, cigarette packets, sweet wrappers, tissue paper, cake wrappers, old sock.(yes old socks ffs) and Christ only knows what else. I also discovered some people don't think the responsibility of being a dog owner means picking up your dogs shit after they've had a dump. But walking a dog mens you get top see this because ....well....dogs are greedy fuckers that will eat anything pretty much put in front of them, including some or all of the stuff mentioned above. And I am not at all happy about removing manky old socks from either dogs mouth. Or tissues ..or anything other than a freshly broken stick from a nearby tree.
I mean, how hard is it to just shove the litter in a carrier bag and dump it in one of the numerous bins in the village? I don't want to stereotype but my guess is the majority of the litter is left by teenagers which think it isn't cool to use a bin, or are downright dirty filthy shitbags, or have been too busy fingering or wanking each other in the dark of the corner of the field to remove the leftovers of their pre-fumble feast. At least that's how I remember it......
Dog owners who don't pick up their hounds shit are just lazy parcels of fuckwittery and cuntishness. I'd love to be like Liam Neesson in Taken, so fucking hard that when I saw this happen I could successfully rub the owners faces in the shit and then use their hands to wipe the dogs arse. Having broken their noses first.
Moral? Don't be a lazy, good for nothing littering, dog shit abandoning moron. Because I'm losing my shit over this......
Later Mugs , GJ
Thursday 14 November 2019
Grumpy grumpy grumpy
Morning Mugs
I've tried. Fuck knows I've tried. I've tried to tone down my grumpiness, but .....fuck it....all I'm doing is masking the natural gravitational call of grumpiness that grows in impact with each passing year. Right now I'm dealing with a situation at work where customers want to order a service from us that requires us to stump up cash for 3rd party services in order to deliver for the customer, only to be told all the money for 2019/2020 is spent. FOR FUCKS SAKE.....how does anybody sanction this as a method for running a business. This is the equivalent of you engaging a builder to design and deliver a new extension.....and the builder says that due to his financial processes whilst you can place the order, he can't buy any materials, do the design, plan any time or resource until the next financial year when a new Capital budget is in place.
Dear Customer, we value your loyal business but please fuck off with any dreams of getting your work started before April due to my own fuckwit internal processes.
Yeah, it's that fucking stupid. Would I run my own business like this? Only if I wanted to have the worst reputation for delivery in that field and a desire for bankruptcy.
Why have I tried to tone down the grumpiness? I just thought it would make life easier, more positive, more sparky. Happier. But the truth is it just closes a valve on what was cathartic way of releasing the steam of frustration, confusion and being utterly perplexed by modern life...all whilst looking like someone who's mastered the arse-gravy fucked up bollocks of modern living.
So, Mugs, expect to see twitter links, expect more vitriol, bile and sneering confusion and hopefully on a daily basis. There'll be dog stuff from time to time, they're too naughty to be ignored. But lets hope a for return to the laughable self centred glory days of Grocerjack and the idiots I deal with or watch from a distance.
Later Mugs, GJ
I've tried. Fuck knows I've tried. I've tried to tone down my grumpiness, but .....fuck it....all I'm doing is masking the natural gravitational call of grumpiness that grows in impact with each passing year. Right now I'm dealing with a situation at work where customers want to order a service from us that requires us to stump up cash for 3rd party services in order to deliver for the customer, only to be told all the money for 2019/2020 is spent. FOR FUCKS SAKE.....how does anybody sanction this as a method for running a business. This is the equivalent of you engaging a builder to design and deliver a new extension.....and the builder says that due to his financial processes whilst you can place the order, he can't buy any materials, do the design, plan any time or resource until the next financial year when a new Capital budget is in place.
Dear Customer, we value your loyal business but please fuck off with any dreams of getting your work started before April due to my own fuckwit internal processes.
Yeah, it's that fucking stupid. Would I run my own business like this? Only if I wanted to have the worst reputation for delivery in that field and a desire for bankruptcy.
Why have I tried to tone down the grumpiness? I just thought it would make life easier, more positive, more sparky. Happier. But the truth is it just closes a valve on what was cathartic way of releasing the steam of frustration, confusion and being utterly perplexed by modern life...all whilst looking like someone who's mastered the arse-gravy fucked up bollocks of modern living.
So, Mugs, expect to see twitter links, expect more vitriol, bile and sneering confusion and hopefully on a daily basis. There'll be dog stuff from time to time, they're too naughty to be ignored. But lets hope a for return to the laughable self centred glory days of Grocerjack and the idiots I deal with or watch from a distance.
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 25 October 2019
Twice the fun. Twice the hard work.
Morning Mugs
Here he is, Dog number 2. Arriving 3rd November. He was called Elmo and that will be on his passport, but his name will be Ossie...named after Chelsea icon Peter Osgood.
One dog is a handful, but two dogs? Twice the fun I'm sure!
Later Mugs, GJ
Here he is, Dog number 2. Arriving 3rd November. He was called Elmo and that will be on his passport, but his name will be Ossie...named after Chelsea icon Peter Osgood.
One dog is a handful, but two dogs? Twice the fun I'm sure!
Later Mugs, GJ
Monday 14 October 2019
Softie Klaxon
Afternoon Mugs,
He's been with us since the 1st May. He chews everything not out of reach. He leaps at the grandchildren and licks them. He licks me. He licks everyone. He play nips from time to time. He needs walking twice a day and constantly needs to go in and out off the garden. He'll eat anything dropped on the floor. He barks at daft times and sometimes for no apparent reason that we can see. The cats either run away from him, or run hissing at him, and they constantly have to bat him away. He's cost us loads in toys, chewy things, food and treats as well as vets bills for castration and a dew claw removal.
Then there's the cost of leads, poo bags, harnesses, collars, trackers and ID tags.
But here's the thing. We love him. And, it seems he loves us. Unconditionally.
So ....what on earth has made us reserve a second dog from the brilliant Cyprus Rescue and Rehome group?
Life is going to change again.
Later Mugs, GJ
He's been with us since the 1st May. He chews everything not out of reach. He leaps at the grandchildren and licks them. He licks me. He licks everyone. He play nips from time to time. He needs walking twice a day and constantly needs to go in and out off the garden. He'll eat anything dropped on the floor. He barks at daft times and sometimes for no apparent reason that we can see. The cats either run away from him, or run hissing at him, and they constantly have to bat him away. He's cost us loads in toys, chewy things, food and treats as well as vets bills for castration and a dew claw removal.
Then there's the cost of leads, poo bags, harnesses, collars, trackers and ID tags.
But here's the thing. We love him. And, it seems he loves us. Unconditionally.
So ....what on earth has made us reserve a second dog from the brilliant Cyprus Rescue and Rehome group?
Life is going to change again.
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 27 September 2019
52-48 - the ultimate Weapon of Mass Destruction.
Morning Mugs,
We are not the Mother of all Parliaments, or if we are then we are a bat-shit crazy, alcohol riddled version of one. The one where Mum drinks a couple of bottles of wine, then a few gins and then decides the future direction of the family. Whilst physically and verbally abusing the family and telling them just how much they've ruined her life. All happening whilst Dad sits in the corner on the fence, quietly smoking his pipe and trying to reason in gentle tones but getting shouted down at every turn. Downtrodden and browbeaten into servility and his supine version of the quiet life.
This week an unelected faux-PM used words like 'surrender' and 'betrayal' to describe Brexit and the 16.1m who voted Remain. Yes, 16.1m people are being told to shut the fuck up and back off. So that a Brexit can be forced through with no deal, impacting a huge number of the terminally stupid who voted us out.
And once done, then we'll be told to unite, to be a United Kingdom again. Scotland will be told they're better off in one union but not the other. It isn't a Union, Scotland will be ruled by England. They will be Vichy Scotland. In effect they already are and have been for centuries. I really hope they get their collective senses together and decide to leave. The idea they can't survive without England is laughable. After that I think (and hope) that the people of Northern Ireland (NI) also come to their senses and decide that England will do fuck all for them, and that England doesn't have the money post-brexit to give them what they received from the EU. A unified Ireland would regenerate NI and it's people.
And then Wales. Wales voted to stay so as far as I'm concerned it can continue as an annexe to England. When I see the closures of plants and businesses across Wales I genuinely think why the fuck should I, as an Englishman bail them out? You reap what you sow etc.....
Please note I am also Irish as due to a great fortune my Mum was Irish and therefore one of my greatest treasures is my Irish passport. The best of both worlds, except that one half of those worlds is collapsing in a hurricane of piss, bile and vitriol. One half has become racist, bigoted, homophobic, and is lurching inexorably to becoming a far right state. When that is complete then I'm off to Ireland (or maybe France) and by hook or by crook my family will be given every chance to come with me.
By rights, London which generates huge amounts of wealth for the UK, more than any other economic area, would have great case to declare independence. It could take control of the money it generates. It could get itself ready to put border controls around it and London would be an independent country. It would still be more populous than Wales, NI and Scotland.
United Kingdom? It will never be unified again. It remains England versus the rest. Scotland versus England. NI versus England. North versus South. Young versus Old. Left versus Right. Family versus Family. And as we can see from the family of the faux-PM we have, it has even pitched brother versus brother and sister versus brother.
Leave versus Remain will never ever disappear. The country is fractured, shattered beyond repair to the point that even if Russia invaded then it would be welcomed by many. Even a war wouldn't heal the wounds.
It's fucked. Even a Peoples Vote won't repair the damage. It's the equivalent of being on a sinking ship where 52% of the people voted to sink it and don't care that it's sinking as long as the ship is no longer in the harbour.
Later Mugs, GJ
We are not the Mother of all Parliaments, or if we are then we are a bat-shit crazy, alcohol riddled version of one. The one where Mum drinks a couple of bottles of wine, then a few gins and then decides the future direction of the family. Whilst physically and verbally abusing the family and telling them just how much they've ruined her life. All happening whilst Dad sits in the corner on the fence, quietly smoking his pipe and trying to reason in gentle tones but getting shouted down at every turn. Downtrodden and browbeaten into servility and his supine version of the quiet life.
This week an unelected faux-PM used words like 'surrender' and 'betrayal' to describe Brexit and the 16.1m who voted Remain. Yes, 16.1m people are being told to shut the fuck up and back off. So that a Brexit can be forced through with no deal, impacting a huge number of the terminally stupid who voted us out.
And once done, then we'll be told to unite, to be a United Kingdom again. Scotland will be told they're better off in one union but not the other. It isn't a Union, Scotland will be ruled by England. They will be Vichy Scotland. In effect they already are and have been for centuries. I really hope they get their collective senses together and decide to leave. The idea they can't survive without England is laughable. After that I think (and hope) that the people of Northern Ireland (NI) also come to their senses and decide that England will do fuck all for them, and that England doesn't have the money post-brexit to give them what they received from the EU. A unified Ireland would regenerate NI and it's people.
And then Wales. Wales voted to stay so as far as I'm concerned it can continue as an annexe to England. When I see the closures of plants and businesses across Wales I genuinely think why the fuck should I, as an Englishman bail them out? You reap what you sow etc.....
Please note I am also Irish as due to a great fortune my Mum was Irish and therefore one of my greatest treasures is my Irish passport. The best of both worlds, except that one half of those worlds is collapsing in a hurricane of piss, bile and vitriol. One half has become racist, bigoted, homophobic, and is lurching inexorably to becoming a far right state. When that is complete then I'm off to Ireland (or maybe France) and by hook or by crook my family will be given every chance to come with me.
By rights, London which generates huge amounts of wealth for the UK, more than any other economic area, would have great case to declare independence. It could take control of the money it generates. It could get itself ready to put border controls around it and London would be an independent country. It would still be more populous than Wales, NI and Scotland.
United Kingdom? It will never be unified again. It remains England versus the rest. Scotland versus England. NI versus England. North versus South. Young versus Old. Left versus Right. Family versus Family. And as we can see from the family of the faux-PM we have, it has even pitched brother versus brother and sister versus brother.
Leave versus Remain will never ever disappear. The country is fractured, shattered beyond repair to the point that even if Russia invaded then it would be welcomed by many. Even a war wouldn't heal the wounds.
It's fucked. Even a Peoples Vote won't repair the damage. It's the equivalent of being on a sinking ship where 52% of the people voted to sink it and don't care that it's sinking as long as the ship is no longer in the harbour.
Later Mugs, GJ
Tuesday 24 September 2019
How's Your Day Going?
Morning Mugs,
I woke up this morning to torrential rain. Persistent rain. Not fucking 'showers' as the Met Office like to call rain these days, even if it's being going fo 3 hours. Pricks.
I decided it might be best to try and walk Bertie early. My strategy was to wear a pair of shorts and boat shoes with no socks. This would limit any trouser/sock/trainer soaking issues. yes I do have proper walking boots but they take a long to put on as it takes to walk Bertie and I don't have time to faff about...proper walking boots for proper walks!
Then with wax jacket and cap on we walked into the rain. We normally walk to a local secure field for dog walkers but due to the sheer heavy rain I decided a walk to the bottom of the road and the grassy verges would suffice. Its not like Bertie likes the rain much. This was fine until at a certain point a complete fuckwit in their 'never been off road' 4x4 decided to drive past ma and ignore the torrent of water running alongside the pavement.
Soaked...from head to toe. Just like you'd see in a sitcom. Except it wasn't funny and I wasn't laughing. water ingress had occurred as the water went UP the jacket and DOWN the collar as well. The cap did little to protect the few dry bits on my head.
Oh, I cursed. I shouted. I gave then the full finger and wanker gestures in the faint hope they'd stop, either to apologise or to remonstrate over my language and gestures. I was ready for either, but they drove on, no doubt oblivious, laughing or scared when they saw this raving and drooling lunatic in the rear view mirror.
We walked on to the grass verges, aware of the fact I could not get any wetter now, slightly less angry because it was just footie shorts soaked rather than jeans and trainers.No poo. Lots of wee, but he steadfastly did not do the business. We walked (trudged) back, saturated. I let him into the back garden whilst I I stripped off the wet clothing in the garage. I had dry clothes in there as an insurance. I let him in, dried him off and decided to use the loo quickly. I came back out to a trail of runny, smelly dog shit from the kitchen door to the living room door. It was like an H-block dirty protest.
As I retched my way around with loo paper, baby wipes and poo bags cleaning it up I knew bigger equipment was needed. Cue the next 30..yes 30 minutes spent using the VAX carpet cleaner (a bloody godsend if you have pets and grandchildren) cleaning the carpet fully. Copious amounts of carpet freshener applied and the smell has almost gone. Almost. I can't help thinking it may never fully go. Only the unadapted nose of visitors will tell us that.
All of this before 9am.
Hows your day going then?
Later Mugs, GJ
I woke up this morning to torrential rain. Persistent rain. Not fucking 'showers' as the Met Office like to call rain these days, even if it's being going fo 3 hours. Pricks.
I decided it might be best to try and walk Bertie early. My strategy was to wear a pair of shorts and boat shoes with no socks. This would limit any trouser/sock/trainer soaking issues. yes I do have proper walking boots but they take a long to put on as it takes to walk Bertie and I don't have time to faff about...proper walking boots for proper walks!
Then with wax jacket and cap on we walked into the rain. We normally walk to a local secure field for dog walkers but due to the sheer heavy rain I decided a walk to the bottom of the road and the grassy verges would suffice. Its not like Bertie likes the rain much. This was fine until at a certain point a complete fuckwit in their 'never been off road' 4x4 decided to drive past ma and ignore the torrent of water running alongside the pavement.
Soaked...from head to toe. Just like you'd see in a sitcom. Except it wasn't funny and I wasn't laughing. water ingress had occurred as the water went UP the jacket and DOWN the collar as well. The cap did little to protect the few dry bits on my head.
Oh, I cursed. I shouted. I gave then the full finger and wanker gestures in the faint hope they'd stop, either to apologise or to remonstrate over my language and gestures. I was ready for either, but they drove on, no doubt oblivious, laughing or scared when they saw this raving and drooling lunatic in the rear view mirror.
We walked on to the grass verges, aware of the fact I could not get any wetter now, slightly less angry because it was just footie shorts soaked rather than jeans and trainers.No poo. Lots of wee, but he steadfastly did not do the business. We walked (trudged) back, saturated. I let him into the back garden whilst I I stripped off the wet clothing in the garage. I had dry clothes in there as an insurance. I let him in, dried him off and decided to use the loo quickly. I came back out to a trail of runny, smelly dog shit from the kitchen door to the living room door. It was like an H-block dirty protest.
As I retched my way around with loo paper, baby wipes and poo bags cleaning it up I knew bigger equipment was needed. Cue the next 30..yes 30 minutes spent using the VAX carpet cleaner (a bloody godsend if you have pets and grandchildren) cleaning the carpet fully. Copious amounts of carpet freshener applied and the smell has almost gone. Almost. I can't help thinking it may never fully go. Only the unadapted nose of visitors will tell us that.
All of this before 9am.
Hows your day going then?
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 13 September 2019
The Reality Bump
Morning Mugs,
I've been blessed in truth with most aspects of my life. Two lovely daughters, two lovely grandchildren, a nice house, decent cars and a mobile home placed on a site 5 minutes from the Med in the South of France....amongst other things. At this time the good far outweighs any bad, which I think is how most people like things. Yes, bad things are needed or how else do you truly appreciate the good things. Those bright eyed bushy tailed optimists who tell you life is great in every way are basically liars. It's not human nature to live in ecstatic bliss.
After just over 3 weeks in France I'm back. Every year I think that 3 weeks is enough, especially when added to the cruise, the battlefields tour, the week at the mobile on my own and the trip to Budapest, all this year. However, I do think there is a subconscious thing going on. I'm 58 now....if the government allows it and all goes well I could be retiring in a few years. And I wonder if this sits in the mind and makes it harder to come back from holidays and breaks and once more put nose to grindstone?
I came back to over a thousand emails from work, that's the best part of 2 days catch-up alone just sifting those into order and making sense of the conversations. But despite feeling ready to come after the 3 weeks, the actual dread of it starts building few days before leaving. It's like an elephant in the room looming large over the last few days of a well earned holiday. This year, the day before the departure drive, I was sat at the bar smiling throughout teeth gritted with envy at those staying there for a few more weeks. just the ambience of the area, the restaurants, the actual true 'laissez-faire' way of life the French (and it seems the Irish) have. I come back to people smiling at the joy of work, most admittedly younger than me and I wonder what lies behind the faux enjoyment of work and life in a divided and nasty shithole like the UK has become. is it just youthful vigour? Is it genuine excitement at being full of ideas (and mostly shit ones at that)?
I prefer to think it as them being untarnished by age, experience and the trials of life. I envy that in some ways, maybe once I was like that? Now I come back to work, and like a midfield journeyman I just put my head down and try to get on with the job. No career ambition left, no super bright ideas, just a rat race with maybe a glimpse of a finish line at the end in a few years. A finish line that once crossed, will let me get up when I want, do another degree, walk the dog when I want, go to the pub when I want.....a time when for the twilight years I might just be free to do what I want.
Until then, back to life..back to reality!
Later Mugs
I've been blessed in truth with most aspects of my life. Two lovely daughters, two lovely grandchildren, a nice house, decent cars and a mobile home placed on a site 5 minutes from the Med in the South of France....amongst other things. At this time the good far outweighs any bad, which I think is how most people like things. Yes, bad things are needed or how else do you truly appreciate the good things. Those bright eyed bushy tailed optimists who tell you life is great in every way are basically liars. It's not human nature to live in ecstatic bliss.
After just over 3 weeks in France I'm back. Every year I think that 3 weeks is enough, especially when added to the cruise, the battlefields tour, the week at the mobile on my own and the trip to Budapest, all this year. However, I do think there is a subconscious thing going on. I'm 58 now....if the government allows it and all goes well I could be retiring in a few years. And I wonder if this sits in the mind and makes it harder to come back from holidays and breaks and once more put nose to grindstone?
I came back to over a thousand emails from work, that's the best part of 2 days catch-up alone just sifting those into order and making sense of the conversations. But despite feeling ready to come after the 3 weeks, the actual dread of it starts building few days before leaving. It's like an elephant in the room looming large over the last few days of a well earned holiday. This year, the day before the departure drive, I was sat at the bar smiling throughout teeth gritted with envy at those staying there for a few more weeks. just the ambience of the area, the restaurants, the actual true 'laissez-faire' way of life the French (and it seems the Irish) have. I come back to people smiling at the joy of work, most admittedly younger than me and I wonder what lies behind the faux enjoyment of work and life in a divided and nasty shithole like the UK has become. is it just youthful vigour? Is it genuine excitement at being full of ideas (and mostly shit ones at that)?
I prefer to think it as them being untarnished by age, experience and the trials of life. I envy that in some ways, maybe once I was like that? Now I come back to work, and like a midfield journeyman I just put my head down and try to get on with the job. No career ambition left, no super bright ideas, just a rat race with maybe a glimpse of a finish line at the end in a few years. A finish line that once crossed, will let me get up when I want, do another degree, walk the dog when I want, go to the pub when I want.....a time when for the twilight years I might just be free to do what I want.
Until then, back to life..back to reality!
Later Mugs
Thursday 1 August 2019
Well..its been month or two
Afternoon Mugs
It's been a month or two since I posted anything. There's nothing sinister there, I've just been busy on holidays or working.
The first holiday was a cruise around the Adriatic for a week. If you take the hellhole of Naples airport out of the week, then it was just lovely. Cruising gets a bad rap , with visions of tea dances, tuxes and blue-rinses. In fast, there's no doubt it appeals to the older, perhaps over 35s demographic, it is very different if you go on TUI and their Marella ships. They are all inclusive and they cater right across the board for all ages and backgrounds. If you want ton wear tuxes and evening ball gowns then you can. Likewise if you prefer shorts and casual shirts, then this is fine. In one week we saw Split and Dubrovnik in Croatia, both of which were stunning, we visited a sleepy place called Ancona onItaly's east coast which I loved. We visited Venice...but I found that rather too crowded. I enjoy the obligatory gondola ride, and even the 15€ half pint of beer in St Marks Square. But the constant top walking speed of shuffling ground me down and I was ready to go back to the ship at 16:00.Overall thought he cruise ws great and the Tuk-tuk tour of Dubrovnik stands as a highlight along with the close sail by of Stromboli in the evening, red and orange lighting the sky from it's summit.
We've booked next year for the Aegean this time.
Next was a week in the new Money Pit (see posts passim) to prepare it for the Siblu renters. This means basically ridding the mobile of the good stuff and putting the vanilla inventory back in place. But it was lovely warm week and a great chance to just relax, read and recharge batteries. I didn't get a single hangover and that in itself was a joy.
Then 10 days ago, I went with some friends and some strangers on a WW1 battlefields tour. This was eye opening at times. We visited The Somme battlefields and memorials on day 1, and then days 2,3 and 4 were all about Flanders with us being based in Ypres. My biggest surprise was just how beautiful Ypres is...for some reason I'd imagined Guildford-lite but instead got a beautiful picture postcard town. The Menin Gate is a sight to behold (as were Thiepval and Vimy Ridge) and the last post is one of those 'bucket list' moments I didn't know existed until experiencing it.
More to follow I expect, but the biggest non-war related discovery for me was........the fact that German beer, as good as it is, is NOT the best I've tasted. No, this honour now firmly belongs with Belgium and after a careful investigation of several bars this result now seems permanent!
Later Mugs, GJ
It's been a month or two since I posted anything. There's nothing sinister there, I've just been busy on holidays or working.
The first holiday was a cruise around the Adriatic for a week. If you take the hellhole of Naples airport out of the week, then it was just lovely. Cruising gets a bad rap , with visions of tea dances, tuxes and blue-rinses. In fast, there's no doubt it appeals to the older, perhaps over 35s demographic, it is very different if you go on TUI and their Marella ships. They are all inclusive and they cater right across the board for all ages and backgrounds. If you want ton wear tuxes and evening ball gowns then you can. Likewise if you prefer shorts and casual shirts, then this is fine. In one week we saw Split and Dubrovnik in Croatia, both of which were stunning, we visited a sleepy place called Ancona onItaly's east coast which I loved. We visited Venice...but I found that rather too crowded. I enjoy the obligatory gondola ride, and even the 15€ half pint of beer in St Marks Square. But the constant top walking speed of shuffling ground me down and I was ready to go back to the ship at 16:00.Overall thought he cruise ws great and the Tuk-tuk tour of Dubrovnik stands as a highlight along with the close sail by of Stromboli in the evening, red and orange lighting the sky from it's summit.
We've booked next year for the Aegean this time.
Next was a week in the new Money Pit (see posts passim) to prepare it for the Siblu renters. This means basically ridding the mobile of the good stuff and putting the vanilla inventory back in place. But it was lovely warm week and a great chance to just relax, read and recharge batteries. I didn't get a single hangover and that in itself was a joy.
Then 10 days ago, I went with some friends and some strangers on a WW1 battlefields tour. This was eye opening at times. We visited The Somme battlefields and memorials on day 1, and then days 2,3 and 4 were all about Flanders with us being based in Ypres. My biggest surprise was just how beautiful Ypres is...for some reason I'd imagined Guildford-lite but instead got a beautiful picture postcard town. The Menin Gate is a sight to behold (as were Thiepval and Vimy Ridge) and the last post is one of those 'bucket list' moments I didn't know existed until experiencing it.
More to follow I expect, but the biggest non-war related discovery for me was........the fact that German beer, as good as it is, is NOT the best I've tasted. No, this honour now firmly belongs with Belgium and after a careful investigation of several bars this result now seems permanent!
Later Mugs, GJ
Monday 10 June 2019
In memoriam....
Morning Mugs
Well, far be it from me to be cliche ridden or stereotypical...but bloody hell hasn't June been a stinker of a month thus far? June 1st was a lovely warm sunny day. Since then it seems to have been unrelenting shite with one day last week where I was convinced it was February. Today, the 10th, it is currently 12 degrees outside, dull grey skies and RAIN. Constant unrelenting rain.
A note to all weather people here. if I get wet through from front door to pavement, then not is NOT drizzle. If it rains non-stop for more than an hour, or like today since I got up at 7.....this is NOT FUCKING SHOWERS...it is RAIN. Got it? RAIN!!! It annoys the crap out of me when smiling weatherman/lady points to a screen and says 'showers here'....when I know its been constant for 3 hours.
Anyway, I digress....my question here is this....all of you Mugs that did nothing but moan about the heatwave last year...are you happy with this shite? Are you really that miserable that you think cold and rain is better than sun and heat?
People book weddings for the summer because..you know...it's generally nicer to get married on a sunny warm day. When it's sunny and warm, people smile more. People are generally happier. Pubs are fuller. The mood of the populous lifts on a summers day. Remember how lovely watching World Cup matches was last year? Pub gardens open with people drinking happily. Public spaces showing games in big screens to people in shorts and flip flops. Blimey if that was this June, they'd need Parka's and wellies.
So my message to those of you who prefer this crap weather to the heatwave is simple. You miserable, joyless , doom-laden fuckwits. You're probably all far bright brexiteers as well.
Later Mugs, GJ
Well, far be it from me to be cliche ridden or stereotypical...but bloody hell hasn't June been a stinker of a month thus far? June 1st was a lovely warm sunny day. Since then it seems to have been unrelenting shite with one day last week where I was convinced it was February. Today, the 10th, it is currently 12 degrees outside, dull grey skies and RAIN. Constant unrelenting rain.
A note to all weather people here. if I get wet through from front door to pavement, then not is NOT drizzle. If it rains non-stop for more than an hour, or like today since I got up at 7.....this is NOT FUCKING SHOWERS...it is RAIN. Got it? RAIN!!! It annoys the crap out of me when smiling weatherman/lady points to a screen and says 'showers here'....when I know its been constant for 3 hours.
Anyway, I digress....my question here is this....all of you Mugs that did nothing but moan about the heatwave last year...are you happy with this shite? Are you really that miserable that you think cold and rain is better than sun and heat?
People book weddings for the summer because..you know...it's generally nicer to get married on a sunny warm day. When it's sunny and warm, people smile more. People are generally happier. Pubs are fuller. The mood of the populous lifts on a summers day. Remember how lovely watching World Cup matches was last year? Pub gardens open with people drinking happily. Public spaces showing games in big screens to people in shorts and flip flops. Blimey if that was this June, they'd need Parka's and wellies.
So my message to those of you who prefer this crap weather to the heatwave is simple. You miserable, joyless , doom-laden fuckwits. You're probably all far bright brexiteers as well.
Later Mugs, GJ
Wednesday 22 May 2019
The Joys of Puppy Parenting
Morning Mugs,
A new addition has arrived in the family. A dog. A puppy dog. 16 weeks old, we've had him 2 weeks now. We got him from a fantastic organisation run by ex-pat volunteers in Cyprus. So he's a Cypriot dog. He's a cross...a mongrel...Heinz 57...call it what you like, I am never going to be the sort of person who insists on pure breed dogs. Rescue dogs have something about them, they seem to know they have been given a chance from where there was little or none when it came to a secure life. Here he is below....
His name is Bertie and we liked it so much we decide to leave it and not change it on arrival. We think it suits him.
So why a Cypriot dog and not one from a UK rescue? Well, we wanted a puppy because we have 2 rather haughty house cats. One , the girl, seems to start every day with a completely new memory and nothing of what has gone previously, the other is an alpha male Tom and he thinks (or knows) the house is his domain. So we thought a puppy would adapt better to the, and maybe any semblance of maternal instinct and pack leader instinct would help the cats adapt to him. This is a 'work in progress' but after just 2 weeks we think we have a North and South Korea impasse situation. They're not quite playing with each other yet, but there is a tolerance being reached with less bats, hisses and growls from the cats, and less sudden playful movements from Bertie. UK rescues rarely get pups it seems, and when they do the costs seemed quite high. Plus the criteria for acceptance looked overly stringent....we had an insecure back garden but the Cyprus Rescue accepted our word this was going to be fixed with an entire new fence. UK Centres implied it had to be done first before consideration. I understand the desire for perfect adoption homes, but it's counter-productive if you just put barriers in place and won't take people on their word. I do wonder how many potentially excellent dog owners have been put off by what might appear to be overly officious bureaucracy in trying to offer a dog a new home.
The upshot of this is we have become part time animal psychologists. We are now dog walkers. I am starting my training on Sunday..I will take Bertie of course. I'm now hawk-eye when it comes to spotting toilet time. But also am very adept at quick carpet cleaning and disinfecting. I walk him around the (now secure) garden because he's an inquisitive puppy and if there's a slight flaw then I'm sure he'll find it. My bank balance is poorer for treats, toys, chews and anything else the family think would be good for Bertie. I'm learning how to give him time alone each day and ignore the pitiful whining and crying. I'm learning how lovely it is for him to sleep in his crate in our bedroom at night. I'm learning that there is never a point in the day when I'm not thinking about him or wondering what he's up to.
I'm remembering just how exhausting a puppy is, but also just how loving they are and how rewarding it is to have them in the the house.
Welcome to England Bertie, the weather is shit, there are lots of dog snobs, lots of horrible people and lots of dig unfriendly pubs. But they are all outweighed by by the dog lovers, the nice people and the great pubs and places that welcome dogs. Maybe the only thing we can't improve on Cyprus is the weather.
Later Mugs, GJ
A new addition has arrived in the family. A dog. A puppy dog. 16 weeks old, we've had him 2 weeks now. We got him from a fantastic organisation run by ex-pat volunteers in Cyprus. So he's a Cypriot dog. He's a cross...a mongrel...Heinz 57...call it what you like, I am never going to be the sort of person who insists on pure breed dogs. Rescue dogs have something about them, they seem to know they have been given a chance from where there was little or none when it came to a secure life. Here he is below....
His name is Bertie and we liked it so much we decide to leave it and not change it on arrival. We think it suits him.
So why a Cypriot dog and not one from a UK rescue? Well, we wanted a puppy because we have 2 rather haughty house cats. One , the girl, seems to start every day with a completely new memory and nothing of what has gone previously, the other is an alpha male Tom and he thinks (or knows) the house is his domain. So we thought a puppy would adapt better to the, and maybe any semblance of maternal instinct and pack leader instinct would help the cats adapt to him. This is a 'work in progress' but after just 2 weeks we think we have a North and South Korea impasse situation. They're not quite playing with each other yet, but there is a tolerance being reached with less bats, hisses and growls from the cats, and less sudden playful movements from Bertie. UK rescues rarely get pups it seems, and when they do the costs seemed quite high. Plus the criteria for acceptance looked overly stringent....we had an insecure back garden but the Cyprus Rescue accepted our word this was going to be fixed with an entire new fence. UK Centres implied it had to be done first before consideration. I understand the desire for perfect adoption homes, but it's counter-productive if you just put barriers in place and won't take people on their word. I do wonder how many potentially excellent dog owners have been put off by what might appear to be overly officious bureaucracy in trying to offer a dog a new home.
The upshot of this is we have become part time animal psychologists. We are now dog walkers. I am starting my training on Sunday..I will take Bertie of course. I'm now hawk-eye when it comes to spotting toilet time. But also am very adept at quick carpet cleaning and disinfecting. I walk him around the (now secure) garden because he's an inquisitive puppy and if there's a slight flaw then I'm sure he'll find it. My bank balance is poorer for treats, toys, chews and anything else the family think would be good for Bertie. I'm learning how to give him time alone each day and ignore the pitiful whining and crying. I'm learning how lovely it is for him to sleep in his crate in our bedroom at night. I'm learning that there is never a point in the day when I'm not thinking about him or wondering what he's up to.
I'm remembering just how exhausting a puppy is, but also just how loving they are and how rewarding it is to have them in the the house.
Welcome to England Bertie, the weather is shit, there are lots of dog snobs, lots of horrible people and lots of dig unfriendly pubs. But they are all outweighed by by the dog lovers, the nice people and the great pubs and places that welcome dogs. Maybe the only thing we can't improve on Cyprus is the weather.
Later Mugs, GJ
Thursday 9 May 2019
Lynch Mob / Groupthink Britain.
Morning Mugs,
I'm a big fan of the BBC and everything it supplies. Or I was. But there is no doubt it has got more and more rotten recently. It regularly platforms hard right liars and cheats such as Farage, Duncan-Smith, Rees-Mogg...it has interviewed Gerard Batten for fucks sake. The utterly despicable, lying and cheating ERG are often interviewed. Jacob Rees-Mogg, a back bencher gets more BBC TV and radio airtime that Tom Watson or David Lidington.
And then today they sack Danny Baker for a misjudged tweet. He admitted it was a poor judgement call. He apologised. he took the tweet down. But this wasn't enough for the BBC so they sacked him.
It all smacks of a number of things. The first is ageism. Baker is 61 so in my view they had the perfect opportunity to remove an experienced, funny, eccentric presenter and can now replace him with some dull, younger fuckwit in the mould of Dermot O' Leary...surely the dullest, blandest prick to grace a TV or radio station. It also removes a working class presenter, so no doubt they can get some ex-grad presenter in. Someone for the millennials. It also doffs the cap towards privilege. They can look some minor royals in the eye safe in the knowledge the establishment is less infected by someone from the rougher side of the tracks.
It was cowardly, craven, overtly politically correct action. It was arse gravy. And now 5 live has lost another listener. LBC may field cunts like Farage, but the allow other presenters to dig him out for the racist gobshite he is. But they have excellence in James O' Brien, Shelagh Fogarty and Eddie Mair and now my speech radio patronage goes there.
Something is rotten at the core of the BBC. The hipsters and bleeding hearts are in charge now. Expect more blandness. Expect more forced diversity. Expect more PC. Expect less support over the funding model. Because right now I hope they ditch the licence and allow the thing to whither on the vine. Netflix and Prime are the future of ad-free TV.
In the meantime, the Danny Baker Show podcasts are treasured items on my iPhone.
Later Mugs, GJ
I'm a big fan of the BBC and everything it supplies. Or I was. But there is no doubt it has got more and more rotten recently. It regularly platforms hard right liars and cheats such as Farage, Duncan-Smith, Rees-Mogg...it has interviewed Gerard Batten for fucks sake. The utterly despicable, lying and cheating ERG are often interviewed. Jacob Rees-Mogg, a back bencher gets more BBC TV and radio airtime that Tom Watson or David Lidington.
And then today they sack Danny Baker for a misjudged tweet. He admitted it was a poor judgement call. He apologised. he took the tweet down. But this wasn't enough for the BBC so they sacked him.
It all smacks of a number of things. The first is ageism. Baker is 61 so in my view they had the perfect opportunity to remove an experienced, funny, eccentric presenter and can now replace him with some dull, younger fuckwit in the mould of Dermot O' Leary...surely the dullest, blandest prick to grace a TV or radio station. It also removes a working class presenter, so no doubt they can get some ex-grad presenter in. Someone for the millennials. It also doffs the cap towards privilege. They can look some minor royals in the eye safe in the knowledge the establishment is less infected by someone from the rougher side of the tracks.
It was cowardly, craven, overtly politically correct action. It was arse gravy. And now 5 live has lost another listener. LBC may field cunts like Farage, but the allow other presenters to dig him out for the racist gobshite he is. But they have excellence in James O' Brien, Shelagh Fogarty and Eddie Mair and now my speech radio patronage goes there.
Something is rotten at the core of the BBC. The hipsters and bleeding hearts are in charge now. Expect more blandness. Expect more forced diversity. Expect more PC. Expect less support over the funding model. Because right now I hope they ditch the licence and allow the thing to whither on the vine. Netflix and Prime are the future of ad-free TV.
In the meantime, the Danny Baker Show podcasts are treasured items on my iPhone.
Later Mugs, GJ
Growing Older - Part 3 of many
Morning Mugs
I love walking football. It's a great way to get fitter. it allows the over 50s a great way to play the game they love but are excluded from because of a natural inability to compete with much young players.
However, for the second time yesterday, and after a few weeks of improving play, the other hamstring pulled yesterday. No...I wasn't thinking I was 18 in a 57 year old body this time, it was purely a trainer sticking to the floor and a subsequent tumble which pulled the hammy.
But it does make me question why bother trying to get fit doing something you enjoy.
Later Mugs, GJ
I love walking football. It's a great way to get fitter. it allows the over 50s a great way to play the game they love but are excluded from because of a natural inability to compete with much young players.
However, for the second time yesterday, and after a few weeks of improving play, the other hamstring pulled yesterday. No...I wasn't thinking I was 18 in a 57 year old body this time, it was purely a trainer sticking to the floor and a subsequent tumble which pulled the hammy.
But it does make me question why bother trying to get fit doing something you enjoy.
Later Mugs, GJ
Tuesday 23 April 2019
Growing older - Pt 2 of many
Morning Mugs
I've had a weekend of peace and quiet. HellsBells camped in the South off France at The Moneypit with MiddleSis and LittleSis for a few days has meany an unusual calm has descended over the house.
Years ago, I'd have used this stock up my alcohol blood levels. There'd have been loud music as I took the chance to re-listen to CDs and watch music DVDs by the likes of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Takeways would have been the order of every day. It would have been a proper slob-fest. But times have changed. Age is in the bones and muscles. I went out Friday and had 6 whole pints of Guinness. I came home and had 2 more...over 2 hours. I played a Blu-Ray (Celebration Day - Led Zeppelin Live) and then when my daughter came home I put the music through headphones. For 25 minute and then bed after a large glass of water. I did the front and back gardens on Friday to ensure the weekend would be free to 'sit' in the garden and relax. We had one takeaway on Sunday with the other daughter and grandkids etc.
But most relaxing thing of all?
I played Bowls..yes Lawn Bowls.....4 times over the weekend. A new club that's a 3 minute drive/20 minute walk has opened and I joined. There's plenty of younger people who have joined as well. AND I LOVED IT. Yes ...I actually loved it. It relaxed me. It wasn't rushed. I wasn't committed to 4 or 5 hours playing as you are with golf. You can stop between ads and check your phone, have a sip of your drink or just look across the fields at the views.
It seems the ageing process foes eventually smooth the edges down, calm the persona and allow you to take the time for a more gentle approach to life.
I rather like it.
Later Mugs, GJ
I've had a weekend of peace and quiet. HellsBells camped in the South off France at The Moneypit with MiddleSis and LittleSis for a few days has meany an unusual calm has descended over the house.
Years ago, I'd have used this stock up my alcohol blood levels. There'd have been loud music as I took the chance to re-listen to CDs and watch music DVDs by the likes of Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd. Takeways would have been the order of every day. It would have been a proper slob-fest. But times have changed. Age is in the bones and muscles. I went out Friday and had 6 whole pints of Guinness. I came home and had 2 more...over 2 hours. I played a Blu-Ray (Celebration Day - Led Zeppelin Live) and then when my daughter came home I put the music through headphones. For 25 minute and then bed after a large glass of water. I did the front and back gardens on Friday to ensure the weekend would be free to 'sit' in the garden and relax. We had one takeaway on Sunday with the other daughter and grandkids etc.
But most relaxing thing of all?
I played Bowls..yes Lawn Bowls.....4 times over the weekend. A new club that's a 3 minute drive/20 minute walk has opened and I joined. There's plenty of younger people who have joined as well. AND I LOVED IT. Yes ...I actually loved it. It relaxed me. It wasn't rushed. I wasn't committed to 4 or 5 hours playing as you are with golf. You can stop between ads and check your phone, have a sip of your drink or just look across the fields at the views.
It seems the ageing process foes eventually smooth the edges down, calm the persona and allow you to take the time for a more gentle approach to life.
I rather like it.
Later Mugs, GJ
Wednesday 10 April 2019
The Opportunities Plan
Afternoon Mugs,
I'm at that precarious age whereby retirement is dangling in the not too distant future. However society is building a momentum towards sneering at the retired. More and more of the media rhetoric is about them being a drain, about the joys of working until you die or become incapacitated. No thanks...pas pour moi, mercy as the French say. More and more we hear younger people making noises about pensioners having 'stolen' money by virtue of exploiting the property ladder as was available in the past.....as if people shouldn't have exploited the house value explosion or bought their own houses via more amenable schemes than are available now.
However, assuming I am allowed to retire at some point the bigger worry in the same forward view as retirement is 'what if I lose my job?'.
Do I, at 57, want to go back into competitive interviews with all the associated assessment days and psychometric tests used these days and find myself potentially being interviewed alongside people half my age willing to work for half the salary? Would I even get interviewed? Most employers see your age and in all likelihood you're not even getting past the first CV sift. I know that because I've seen it happen first hand where I work.
Do I take the money (hopefully a compromise amount after 25 years service) and retrain? retrain to what...what timescales are there to train for something satisfying that pays decent money? Do I use the money to set up a business? Do I look at contracting and/or consultancy? Do I buy a franchise?
I've done a plan but it's all questions as above. What do I want to do? What can I do? What can I do that I want to do? What can I do that I don't want to do? What can't I do but would love to do? What can't I do and would never want to do? What can or can't I do that will pay me enough money? Is there anything I can't do or don't want to do that will pay loads so I have to just lump it?
Plan A is to stay put in an enjoyable job, with a team of funny people who always make you smile and is based on being able to work from home. Make hay whilst the sun shines and keep my head down and do the best I can is the daily mantra I follow. All ambition from a work perspective is gone. However, the modern day workplace is all about chest beating, crowing about achievements. Everybody wants to be the workplace equivalent of Lionel Mess or Ronaldo. Whereas I'm more of a midfield general....someone who just gets on with the job, unfashionably, quietly and efficiently.
One thing is for sure, whilst I mull over a future which may not happen, I really am glad the end of working every day is in sight, rather than being at the start of the working life in this awful age of bright young things competing for shit waged jobs with less rights and benefits than I ever had.
Unlucky them.
Later Mugs, GJ
I'm at that precarious age whereby retirement is dangling in the not too distant future. However society is building a momentum towards sneering at the retired. More and more of the media rhetoric is about them being a drain, about the joys of working until you die or become incapacitated. No thanks...pas pour moi, mercy as the French say. More and more we hear younger people making noises about pensioners having 'stolen' money by virtue of exploiting the property ladder as was available in the past.....as if people shouldn't have exploited the house value explosion or bought their own houses via more amenable schemes than are available now.
However, assuming I am allowed to retire at some point the bigger worry in the same forward view as retirement is 'what if I lose my job?'.
Do I, at 57, want to go back into competitive interviews with all the associated assessment days and psychometric tests used these days and find myself potentially being interviewed alongside people half my age willing to work for half the salary? Would I even get interviewed? Most employers see your age and in all likelihood you're not even getting past the first CV sift. I know that because I've seen it happen first hand where I work.
Do I take the money (hopefully a compromise amount after 25 years service) and retrain? retrain to what...what timescales are there to train for something satisfying that pays decent money? Do I use the money to set up a business? Do I look at contracting and/or consultancy? Do I buy a franchise?
I've done a plan but it's all questions as above. What do I want to do? What can I do? What can I do that I want to do? What can I do that I don't want to do? What can't I do but would love to do? What can't I do and would never want to do? What can or can't I do that will pay me enough money? Is there anything I can't do or don't want to do that will pay loads so I have to just lump it?
Plan A is to stay put in an enjoyable job, with a team of funny people who always make you smile and is based on being able to work from home. Make hay whilst the sun shines and keep my head down and do the best I can is the daily mantra I follow. All ambition from a work perspective is gone. However, the modern day workplace is all about chest beating, crowing about achievements. Everybody wants to be the workplace equivalent of Lionel Mess or Ronaldo. Whereas I'm more of a midfield general....someone who just gets on with the job, unfashionably, quietly and efficiently.
One thing is for sure, whilst I mull over a future which may not happen, I really am glad the end of working every day is in sight, rather than being at the start of the working life in this awful age of bright young things competing for shit waged jobs with less rights and benefits than I ever had.
Unlucky them.
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 22 March 2019
Growing older...part 1 of many
Morning Mugs,
3 years ago I had kidney stones. They were the single most bloody painful thing I'd had aside from Gout...which is excruciating. It transpires the cause was probably the fact that most days I'd drink a cup of coffee or two each day, and maybe a pint of squash or diet fizz in the evening. Over years this led to kidney stones, simply because I didn't drink enough fluids during the day.You think they might teach you that at school huh...but then I went back in the 70s when even smoking was seen as nothing more than a minor health hazard.
Nowadays, since the lithotripsy treatment which worked but also hurt, I now drink around 3 - 3.5 lites of fluid per day. The upside of this is that there are no further signs of stones forming.
The downside is that at 57 years off age, I need to use the loo every bloody 30 minutes. I have to plan all journeys around toilet access, or being lucky enough to be a bloke ensuring the routes have lay-by's available - one upside of being male is we can pretty much pee anywhere. Train journeys become all about ensuring you're near the loo and you known which direction it is from your seat. If of course you're lucky enough to have a seat. Plane journeys are all about planning when to have your last drink and 'comfort break' in case you're stuck on the runway, or as far from the pleb class loo as it's possible to be. I now wear trackie bottoms to ensure theres no belt pressure pushing down on the bladder along with the seat belt. On city or countryside breaks I now ensure the app Toilet Finder is on the phone so I know where I can go in the inevitable event of needing a wee. Believe me, from Imperial Harbour station to Stamford Bridge, I know every pub and restaurant along the walking route where you can get away with using the facilities without being a drink or food.
At school we were taught about the changes as we went into puberty. They were exciting changes. Hormones running wild and good physical changes. I firmly believe they should also add the changes the occur as middle age tightens it's grip. Tell them they will change again, and that this time...it may not necessarily be for the better.
Later Mugs, GJ
3 years ago I had kidney stones. They were the single most bloody painful thing I'd had aside from Gout...which is excruciating. It transpires the cause was probably the fact that most days I'd drink a cup of coffee or two each day, and maybe a pint of squash or diet fizz in the evening. Over years this led to kidney stones, simply because I didn't drink enough fluids during the day.You think they might teach you that at school huh...but then I went back in the 70s when even smoking was seen as nothing more than a minor health hazard.
Nowadays, since the lithotripsy treatment which worked but also hurt, I now drink around 3 - 3.5 lites of fluid per day. The upside of this is that there are no further signs of stones forming.
The downside is that at 57 years off age, I need to use the loo every bloody 30 minutes. I have to plan all journeys around toilet access, or being lucky enough to be a bloke ensuring the routes have lay-by's available - one upside of being male is we can pretty much pee anywhere. Train journeys become all about ensuring you're near the loo and you known which direction it is from your seat. If of course you're lucky enough to have a seat. Plane journeys are all about planning when to have your last drink and 'comfort break' in case you're stuck on the runway, or as far from the pleb class loo as it's possible to be. I now wear trackie bottoms to ensure theres no belt pressure pushing down on the bladder along with the seat belt. On city or countryside breaks I now ensure the app Toilet Finder is on the phone so I know where I can go in the inevitable event of needing a wee. Believe me, from Imperial Harbour station to Stamford Bridge, I know every pub and restaurant along the walking route where you can get away with using the facilities without being a drink or food.
At school we were taught about the changes as we went into puberty. They were exciting changes. Hormones running wild and good physical changes. I firmly believe they should also add the changes the occur as middle age tightens it's grip. Tell them they will change again, and that this time...it may not necessarily be for the better.
Later Mugs, GJ
Tuesday 19 March 2019
Relentless Bad News...it has to be bad for us...doesn't it?
Morning Mugs
It occurred to me this morning, whilst Google Assistant was replaying how my day was set up by telling me the news from the BBC and SKY that none of the news was good. None was positive. There was zero in there to affirm life. Nothing to give the impression that anything anywhere was actually any good.
Has anyone ever done a thesis or study into how this relentless barrage of bad news from social media, from the radio, the press, the TV and from every conceivable angle? it has to affect people, it's like brainwashing over long period of time. Humans are social animals and that mind infused negativity dripped into us over time must surely spread, and with that spread comes inaccuracies and exaggeration, and with that inaccuracy and exaggeration the fear grows, and toque Pink Floyd, 'and as the fear grows, the blood shows and and turns to stone'.
I'm pretty sure any study would show that negativity spread is growing, that the media and it's owners and the politicians know the best way to control, repress, oppress and bend the will of the people is by creating a culture of fear. They promote their negative perspective s concern for our safety. They tell us we need protecting from the big bad evils the world will throw at us. And only they can provide this. And collectively we fall for this. And collectively we turn the constant negativity into truths and maxims and the spread continues.
It really is a very miserable time to be alive in the UK. Yet....just a few short months ago I spent a week in Ireland. In the very south west corner on the Wild Atlantic Way and the Ring of Kerry. Everywhere we went we were met with an almost covert and subtle cheerfulness and optimistic positive outlook. From people in the fields to the bars to the shops to the museums the same cheery outlook pervaded every aspect of the break.
I'm very tempted to chuck all this shite in and shift my life to somewhere simpler, less materialistic, where people take the chance to breathe, to talk, to sing, to dance, to shrug their shoulders to the world and say 'whatever...just leave us be...'
Thats the life I really want.
Later Mugs, GJ
It occurred to me this morning, whilst Google Assistant was replaying how my day was set up by telling me the news from the BBC and SKY that none of the news was good. None was positive. There was zero in there to affirm life. Nothing to give the impression that anything anywhere was actually any good.
Has anyone ever done a thesis or study into how this relentless barrage of bad news from social media, from the radio, the press, the TV and from every conceivable angle? it has to affect people, it's like brainwashing over long period of time. Humans are social animals and that mind infused negativity dripped into us over time must surely spread, and with that spread comes inaccuracies and exaggeration, and with that inaccuracy and exaggeration the fear grows, and toque Pink Floyd, 'and as the fear grows, the blood shows and and turns to stone'.
I'm pretty sure any study would show that negativity spread is growing, that the media and it's owners and the politicians know the best way to control, repress, oppress and bend the will of the people is by creating a culture of fear. They promote their negative perspective s concern for our safety. They tell us we need protecting from the big bad evils the world will throw at us. And only they can provide this. And collectively we fall for this. And collectively we turn the constant negativity into truths and maxims and the spread continues.
It really is a very miserable time to be alive in the UK. Yet....just a few short months ago I spent a week in Ireland. In the very south west corner on the Wild Atlantic Way and the Ring of Kerry. Everywhere we went we were met with an almost covert and subtle cheerfulness and optimistic positive outlook. From people in the fields to the bars to the shops to the museums the same cheery outlook pervaded every aspect of the break.
I'm very tempted to chuck all this shite in and shift my life to somewhere simpler, less materialistic, where people take the chance to breathe, to talk, to sing, to dance, to shrug their shoulders to the world and say 'whatever...just leave us be...'
Thats the life I really want.
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 8 March 2019
Jacko. Wacko? Nonce? Both?
Morning Mugs,
Like many I watched the Leaving Neverland documentary over the last two nights.A very difficult watch, very difficult. I am no huge Jackson fan , but it's hard not to twitch a leg to Off the Wall or the Thriller albums. It's hard not to get swept up by the majesty of The Earth Song. There's a hell of a legacy there for fantastic pop music, even if by the end the talent was spent...unlike Bowie, Jackson had run out of creative steam.
So, a fantastic pop star, but for me nowhere near Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Stones, Beatles, U2 or Abba. That's just personal taste though.
After all of the latest allegations he now looks like primarily being remembered for being a child abuser. A paedophile. A sex criminal. Which is all rather sad and to me unnecessary. Watching the documentary wasn't easy, the detail was very graphic and hard to listen to. I'm still not quite 100% there bout the second part which exposed the rifts in the families involved seems very hard to make up. Both 'victims' came over as seemingly honest. Interestingly neither of them seemed to want to say anything nasty about Jackson which was odd, but also seems to underpin the conflicts the victims of child sex abuse feel. They feel they are breaking the trust of someone who loved them....as children that's a very big heartbreak.
Some aspects of the documentary made me uneasy though. First of all, the two men's statements we're virtually identical when describing the activities they were engaged in by Jackson. Spookily so, and had I not known better I would have suspected they'd been coached by lawyers or others. That seems unfair I know......and maybe they're both describing the modus operandi of Jackson...and it seems well known that abusers follow patterns that have previously been successful. A tried and tested formula I suppose. Then there are the families...the nearest and dearest who allowed this near abduction to take place. A mother who slept along the corridor whilst her son shared Jacksons bed. I mean, come on what parent would find that acceptable? Unless of course, the money, the reflected fame, the gifts and the promises all add up to bribes used in a complete and planned grooming process.
I've been sceptical that sane adult people can be groomed...then I watched Abducted In Plain Sight and that weird documentary truly opened my eyes up to the sheer gullibility, malleability and susceptibility of seemingly sane people to acts of apparent altruism and kindness. Groomers will groom whoever they feel is advantageous to them reaching their target. I'm also sceptical as to why, now he's dead, there aren't staff and workers and friends and even relatives who haven't seen this, haven't known this stuff was going on. What is there for them to fear? Backlash from 'the estate'? Well, fuck the estate...it's just an organisation dedicated to preserving the good memory of a flawed man in order to keep the big money rolling in. There must be so many others who knew...and if they're not speaking then they're being complicit aren't they? Would an amnesty on perjury or any follow up criminal action help? Would protection of any received income or 'pay offs' under a gagging order help them come forward?
Who knows? But as I say I'm leaning towards his guilt, quite heavily now and more so than before. I'm still uneasy about allegations against someone no longer able to defend themselves or explain but the truth is the greater priority I suppose. One thing is certain, Jackson himself was deeply flawed and deeply mentally ill. I can't help but think this was all a result of a bullying overbearing father, a culture within the family to be nothing more than a human performing seal. A closed brotherhood with secrets protected by the heinous false religion of Jehovah's Witnesses (how the hell does a civilised society allow them to exist?) and a willing and knowing collective cognitive dissonance amongst his family, his friends, his employees and maybe even the authorities. I think it's fair to say that in this case, the abused becomes the abuser. I hope the cycle stops with his alleged victims, both of whom came over as damaged and yet stable people trying to live as normal a life as is possible.
But we certainly haven't heard the last of this whole sorry saga that is the life of Michael Jackson yet. The man who had everything and yet seems to have had nothing.
Later Mugs.
Like many I watched the Leaving Neverland documentary over the last two nights.A very difficult watch, very difficult. I am no huge Jackson fan , but it's hard not to twitch a leg to Off the Wall or the Thriller albums. It's hard not to get swept up by the majesty of The Earth Song. There's a hell of a legacy there for fantastic pop music, even if by the end the talent was spent...unlike Bowie, Jackson had run out of creative steam.
So, a fantastic pop star, but for me nowhere near Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Stones, Beatles, U2 or Abba. That's just personal taste though.
After all of the latest allegations he now looks like primarily being remembered for being a child abuser. A paedophile. A sex criminal. Which is all rather sad and to me unnecessary. Watching the documentary wasn't easy, the detail was very graphic and hard to listen to. I'm still not quite 100% there bout the second part which exposed the rifts in the families involved seems very hard to make up. Both 'victims' came over as seemingly honest. Interestingly neither of them seemed to want to say anything nasty about Jackson which was odd, but also seems to underpin the conflicts the victims of child sex abuse feel. They feel they are breaking the trust of someone who loved them....as children that's a very big heartbreak.
Some aspects of the documentary made me uneasy though. First of all, the two men's statements we're virtually identical when describing the activities they were engaged in by Jackson. Spookily so, and had I not known better I would have suspected they'd been coached by lawyers or others. That seems unfair I know......and maybe they're both describing the modus operandi of Jackson...and it seems well known that abusers follow patterns that have previously been successful. A tried and tested formula I suppose. Then there are the families...the nearest and dearest who allowed this near abduction to take place. A mother who slept along the corridor whilst her son shared Jacksons bed. I mean, come on what parent would find that acceptable? Unless of course, the money, the reflected fame, the gifts and the promises all add up to bribes used in a complete and planned grooming process.
I've been sceptical that sane adult people can be groomed...then I watched Abducted In Plain Sight and that weird documentary truly opened my eyes up to the sheer gullibility, malleability and susceptibility of seemingly sane people to acts of apparent altruism and kindness. Groomers will groom whoever they feel is advantageous to them reaching their target. I'm also sceptical as to why, now he's dead, there aren't staff and workers and friends and even relatives who haven't seen this, haven't known this stuff was going on. What is there for them to fear? Backlash from 'the estate'? Well, fuck the estate...it's just an organisation dedicated to preserving the good memory of a flawed man in order to keep the big money rolling in. There must be so many others who knew...and if they're not speaking then they're being complicit aren't they? Would an amnesty on perjury or any follow up criminal action help? Would protection of any received income or 'pay offs' under a gagging order help them come forward?
Who knows? But as I say I'm leaning towards his guilt, quite heavily now and more so than before. I'm still uneasy about allegations against someone no longer able to defend themselves or explain but the truth is the greater priority I suppose. One thing is certain, Jackson himself was deeply flawed and deeply mentally ill. I can't help but think this was all a result of a bullying overbearing father, a culture within the family to be nothing more than a human performing seal. A closed brotherhood with secrets protected by the heinous false religion of Jehovah's Witnesses (how the hell does a civilised society allow them to exist?) and a willing and knowing collective cognitive dissonance amongst his family, his friends, his employees and maybe even the authorities. I think it's fair to say that in this case, the abused becomes the abuser. I hope the cycle stops with his alleged victims, both of whom came over as damaged and yet stable people trying to live as normal a life as is possible.
But we certainly haven't heard the last of this whole sorry saga that is the life of Michael Jackson yet. The man who had everything and yet seems to have had nothing.
Later Mugs.
Tuesday 5 March 2019
25 days to go
Morning Mugs
25 days to go then. Brexit looms large and there is still no deal on the table. If we crash out with no deal then the economy is forecast to tank by 9%. Put that into context, the 2008 recession caused it to drop by just under 2%. Expect bad things. Lorries queueing at the ports. The cessation of the transport of medicines and chemicals and many other specially licensed goods. Services of course, such as lots of finance will be on its arse as various licences to trade cease. Eurostar, the shuttle and air travel will be disrupted. And of course we have the irish border issue. I rediscovered my Irish roots recently. My mum was Irish and so I took advantage of this and got my Irish passport at the end of 2017. I've not used my UK one since and the chances are I won't even bother renewing it. Right now I truly hope the UK gets broken up, that Ireland reunifies and Scotland goes its own way. Why is one Union entered into voluntarily a bad union, but another forged by force a good one?
The truth is I'm not sure I want much to do with a country so seemingly willing to believe the lies of Farage and Rees-Mogg etc, a country of people that denied the 16 year olds a vote and then told them they were doing it for their best. How fucking patronising is that? A country that decided it's now citizens abroad a vote on an issue directly affecting them? A country that is about to give up the single biggest freedom - the right to live and work in 27 other countries - on the sword of a non-existent immigration issue, stoked by the fear factor racist right wing press. When did this country ever remove such a wide ranging human right in its entire existence? There is so much wrong with the UK, I'm now rather hoping everything is worse than the alleged 'Project Fear' forecast. In a sadisitc way I hope the very people who were told it would impact them the most find themselves impacted the most. I want to hear the hollow calls of how unfair further austerity is on them, how they are even poorer, how they can't get medicines they need as quickly as before. I really and rather childishly want to be able to say
'We told you so'.
Even though there's every chance I could be impacted by this. I have some vague plans ready but who knows how things will impact everyone. I do wonder, for example, how the banks are fixed for the mass mortgage, loan and credit card defaults that might be heading their way. What if a civil disobedience movement occurs, where people refuse to pay for fuel, debts etc en masse? Could we really be heading for a form of martial law? Riots on the streets? Civil War?
It may not go that far, but one thing is for certain, this country is divided like never before and those divisions will not be healed in my lifetime, and maybe not in my children lifetime. How incredibly sad and how easily avoidable ll of this mess was. But one good thing right come of it.....the death of the party system in this country, and with it the death of career politicians, first past the post electoral system, an unelected second house and the Conservative party who have acted in their own interests ahead of the nations. Scant compensation I know, but maybe the start of something new that makes society fairer and more representative.
Later Mugs
25 days to go then. Brexit looms large and there is still no deal on the table. If we crash out with no deal then the economy is forecast to tank by 9%. Put that into context, the 2008 recession caused it to drop by just under 2%. Expect bad things. Lorries queueing at the ports. The cessation of the transport of medicines and chemicals and many other specially licensed goods. Services of course, such as lots of finance will be on its arse as various licences to trade cease. Eurostar, the shuttle and air travel will be disrupted. And of course we have the irish border issue. I rediscovered my Irish roots recently. My mum was Irish and so I took advantage of this and got my Irish passport at the end of 2017. I've not used my UK one since and the chances are I won't even bother renewing it. Right now I truly hope the UK gets broken up, that Ireland reunifies and Scotland goes its own way. Why is one Union entered into voluntarily a bad union, but another forged by force a good one?
The truth is I'm not sure I want much to do with a country so seemingly willing to believe the lies of Farage and Rees-Mogg etc, a country of people that denied the 16 year olds a vote and then told them they were doing it for their best. How fucking patronising is that? A country that decided it's now citizens abroad a vote on an issue directly affecting them? A country that is about to give up the single biggest freedom - the right to live and work in 27 other countries - on the sword of a non-existent immigration issue, stoked by the fear factor racist right wing press. When did this country ever remove such a wide ranging human right in its entire existence? There is so much wrong with the UK, I'm now rather hoping everything is worse than the alleged 'Project Fear' forecast. In a sadisitc way I hope the very people who were told it would impact them the most find themselves impacted the most. I want to hear the hollow calls of how unfair further austerity is on them, how they are even poorer, how they can't get medicines they need as quickly as before. I really and rather childishly want to be able to say
'We told you so'.
Even though there's every chance I could be impacted by this. I have some vague plans ready but who knows how things will impact everyone. I do wonder, for example, how the banks are fixed for the mass mortgage, loan and credit card defaults that might be heading their way. What if a civil disobedience movement occurs, where people refuse to pay for fuel, debts etc en masse? Could we really be heading for a form of martial law? Riots on the streets? Civil War?
It may not go that far, but one thing is for certain, this country is divided like never before and those divisions will not be healed in my lifetime, and maybe not in my children lifetime. How incredibly sad and how easily avoidable ll of this mess was. But one good thing right come of it.....the death of the party system in this country, and with it the death of career politicians, first past the post electoral system, an unelected second house and the Conservative party who have acted in their own interests ahead of the nations. Scant compensation I know, but maybe the start of something new that makes society fairer and more representative.
Later Mugs
Wednesday 27 February 2019
Bugger off winter
Morning Mugs,
I'm 57 now. After all the years of other enjoying the romantic notion of nights closing in, getting wrapped up in warm clothes for walks on wind and rain blown promenades by the sea, turning the heating up, sitting in front of the fire etc etc......I've had enough. Bollocks to all that. All it means to me now is colds, flu, aches and pains.
And therein lies the issue......at some point in your life you move from being youthfully resistant to all the travails winter might throw at you to being vulnerable to everything and anything blowing in the wind. The bloody cold wind. Now, in part this vulnerability is also no doubt due to the presence of grandchildren, of which I now proudly have 2...one of 3 (nearly 4) and one of 4 months (aaah). I have long held the theory that children immune system is in some way supplemented by the ability to pass the ailment on, so that they recover quickly whilst the parents/grandparents walk around with sachets of Lem-Sip and bottles of Covonia to hand. Add the Ibuprofen, the Co-codamol, the Gaviscon, the Imodium, the anti-histamines and for the more extreme of us, the Diazepam and suddenly grandparents, in particular, become sort of mature walking pharmacies. Now, I rarely leave the home for any weekend break without a full toiletries bag of various medicines and things like blister plasters.
And people ask me why I carry a mini man bag with me!
And so we experience a run of days (5 so far) of glorious weather, not dissimilar to that we experienced in Budapest. Unbroken blue skies and sunshine. In fact the last 3 days have edged close to 20 degrees. I have walked very day and everyone is just a bit happier. More people smile, kids are out playing and there is a general feeling Spring is imminent. of course this time next weeks it'll no doubt be 6 degrees and miserable, but it does make me yearn for the warmer months more and more each year.
Oi could in fact live in a climate whereby 21 degrees was the norm every day, where sunshine was the default mode. I would be happier, fitter and healthier. Does such a place exist?
Later Mugs
I'm 57 now. After all the years of other enjoying the romantic notion of nights closing in, getting wrapped up in warm clothes for walks on wind and rain blown promenades by the sea, turning the heating up, sitting in front of the fire etc etc......I've had enough. Bollocks to all that. All it means to me now is colds, flu, aches and pains.
And therein lies the issue......at some point in your life you move from being youthfully resistant to all the travails winter might throw at you to being vulnerable to everything and anything blowing in the wind. The bloody cold wind. Now, in part this vulnerability is also no doubt due to the presence of grandchildren, of which I now proudly have 2...one of 3 (nearly 4) and one of 4 months (aaah). I have long held the theory that children immune system is in some way supplemented by the ability to pass the ailment on, so that they recover quickly whilst the parents/grandparents walk around with sachets of Lem-Sip and bottles of Covonia to hand. Add the Ibuprofen, the Co-codamol, the Gaviscon, the Imodium, the anti-histamines and for the more extreme of us, the Diazepam and suddenly grandparents, in particular, become sort of mature walking pharmacies. Now, I rarely leave the home for any weekend break without a full toiletries bag of various medicines and things like blister plasters.
And people ask me why I carry a mini man bag with me!
And so we experience a run of days (5 so far) of glorious weather, not dissimilar to that we experienced in Budapest. Unbroken blue skies and sunshine. In fact the last 3 days have edged close to 20 degrees. I have walked very day and everyone is just a bit happier. More people smile, kids are out playing and there is a general feeling Spring is imminent. of course this time next weeks it'll no doubt be 6 degrees and miserable, but it does make me yearn for the warmer months more and more each year.
Oi could in fact live in a climate whereby 21 degrees was the norm every day, where sunshine was the default mode. I would be happier, fitter and healthier. Does such a place exist?
Later Mugs
Wednesday 20 February 2019
Just take me back to Budapest
Morning Mugs,
Well, back to reality then, but first Budapest. Yes I have just returned from the wonderful city of Budapest, capital of Hungary. What can I say? It's beautiful, the people are friendly, the food is great, drinks are reasonably priced and the Danube is gorgeous.
They think we're off our rockers for wanting to leave the EU.
As does everyone else I've met from other EU countries.
Just saying.....
Later Mugs
Well, back to reality then, but first Budapest. Yes I have just returned from the wonderful city of Budapest, capital of Hungary. What can I say? It's beautiful, the people are friendly, the food is great, drinks are reasonably priced and the Danube is gorgeous.
They think we're off our rockers for wanting to leave the EU.
As does everyone else I've met from other EU countries.
Just saying.....
Later Mugs
Thursday 7 February 2019
Murphy's Law and Sods Law - the only constants
Morning Mugs,
Last year I had an ankle operation to repair what was basically a completely buggered ankle where the ligament 'weren't attached to anything'.....the consultants words , not mine. It followed a bad fall in 2016 which took an already slightly dodgy ankle past the point of no natural healing return. The operation was in June and the prognosis was '100% recovery after suitable convalescence' which means about now I can start to run or indulge in sports.
I am not a runner but appreciate the benefits of light jogging so bought a treadmill and decided to use the Couch to 5k app from Public Health England. I am never going to be a rod runner because of the possibility of having to talk to people or more pertinently the likelihood of potholes or uneven paving slabs. I'm not risking my ankle on those shit surfaces.
A few weeks back, our local Sports and Community Centre decided to trial 'walking football'. This pricked up my ears. I'm 57 now and the days of being able to play any football at any 'normal' pace are long gone. A few mates of mine from years ago joined up so In decided to sign up as well.
But then.......at Christmas, as my confidence in the ankle was reaching its peak....shingles struck, and all fitness plans are put on hold. In the last few years I've had shoulder problems, ankle problems, intercostal muscle tears, gout, kidney stones, an ankle operation and then shingles.
But yesterday, well from Monday actually, things felt OK. Out of the woods it seemed. I've done two sessions on the treadmill with the app and survived. I'm getting my walking mojo back as well with slightly lighter evenings. Yesterday was the first day at walking football. I walked to the centre a few hours after a successful treadmill session. I introduced myself to some of the guys and went through the warm up and stretches. Even then I felt a little concern that the stretches were a bit light. 20 minutes in and I stretch for the ball and turn....TWANG........pain in the back of the thigh and buttock. Quite a strong pain...the sort that would stop anyone. This meant one thing......Hamstring pulled. I played on but couldn't do much. In the second half I went in goal and did OK considering how crocked I was I did OK.
But, today it's tight and painful...it isn't a serious one, but against all my instincts I'm being quite positive about it, viewing it a setback and not anything more sinister. It's no master pan to prevent me getting fitter...I hope. But it is an example of the one constant that plagues us all, and plagues us more as we get older. If it can go wrong, then it will go wrong!
Sods Law. The extended version of Murphy's Law. Sods Law states that if it can go wrong, then it will go wrong...but with the worst possible outcome. Right now I am realising it might just be Murphys law in my case. Had this been a hamstring tear, then that is a lot worse as at least I can walk..albeit rather gingerly.
The worst thing about both? The older we get the more we expect either to happen, but even knowing that, we're still never fully prepared for them.
Later Mugs, GJ
Last year I had an ankle operation to repair what was basically a completely buggered ankle where the ligament 'weren't attached to anything'.....the consultants words , not mine. It followed a bad fall in 2016 which took an already slightly dodgy ankle past the point of no natural healing return. The operation was in June and the prognosis was '100% recovery after suitable convalescence' which means about now I can start to run or indulge in sports.
I am not a runner but appreciate the benefits of light jogging so bought a treadmill and decided to use the Couch to 5k app from Public Health England. I am never going to be a rod runner because of the possibility of having to talk to people or more pertinently the likelihood of potholes or uneven paving slabs. I'm not risking my ankle on those shit surfaces.
A few weeks back, our local Sports and Community Centre decided to trial 'walking football'. This pricked up my ears. I'm 57 now and the days of being able to play any football at any 'normal' pace are long gone. A few mates of mine from years ago joined up so In decided to sign up as well.
But then.......at Christmas, as my confidence in the ankle was reaching its peak....shingles struck, and all fitness plans are put on hold. In the last few years I've had shoulder problems, ankle problems, intercostal muscle tears, gout, kidney stones, an ankle operation and then shingles.
But yesterday, well from Monday actually, things felt OK. Out of the woods it seemed. I've done two sessions on the treadmill with the app and survived. I'm getting my walking mojo back as well with slightly lighter evenings. Yesterday was the first day at walking football. I walked to the centre a few hours after a successful treadmill session. I introduced myself to some of the guys and went through the warm up and stretches. Even then I felt a little concern that the stretches were a bit light. 20 minutes in and I stretch for the ball and turn....TWANG........pain in the back of the thigh and buttock. Quite a strong pain...the sort that would stop anyone. This meant one thing......Hamstring pulled. I played on but couldn't do much. In the second half I went in goal and did OK considering how crocked I was I did OK.
But, today it's tight and painful...it isn't a serious one, but against all my instincts I'm being quite positive about it, viewing it a setback and not anything more sinister. It's no master pan to prevent me getting fitter...I hope. But it is an example of the one constant that plagues us all, and plagues us more as we get older. If it can go wrong, then it will go wrong!
Sods Law. The extended version of Murphy's Law. Sods Law states that if it can go wrong, then it will go wrong...but with the worst possible outcome. Right now I am realising it might just be Murphys law in my case. Had this been a hamstring tear, then that is a lot worse as at least I can walk..albeit rather gingerly.
The worst thing about both? The older we get the more we expect either to happen, but even knowing that, we're still never fully prepared for them.
Later Mugs, GJ
Friday 1 February 2019
Everything that's wrong with religion
Morning Mugs,
I'm an atheist. Out, proud and loud. There is no God. It's a fairytale perpetuated over thousands of years in order to oppress people into behaving in certain ways that meet the approval of the prudish, pompous and pious pricks and keep them in power. Yes it has some good bits, a moral compass of good and bad, but for some religions their good is another bad and vice versa. Definitions of good and bad are easily overcome we just educate children to see the obvious bad and the obvious goods. No need to use a fire and brimstone threat at all.
My atheism followed years of catholicism, lapsed catholicism, agnosticism until reading The God Delusion made my mind up. I do think there are huge gaps in evolutionary theory, and I am unconvinced we don't have. soul or something that exists after the mechanical bits have failed. But that's another post.
But read the link below, and then you'll see why I dislike religion. I disregard it's world viewpoint. Faith schools are hives of sectarian prejudice and belief that devalues our lives on this planet. It reduces life to a passage to something unproveable - an airport terminal to an eternity of pleasure or torture. No middle ground as life currently gives us. Ups and downs to lift and challenge us. If we have something afterwards I hope it's rather like we have now with less extremes of privilege and right.
I say to all faith schools and religious zealots - get in the fucking sea!
Later Mugs, GJ
Thursday 31 January 2019
Shit House
Morning Mugs,
Yesterday the water pump broke. The 2 year old pump fitted to pump the hot water and upstairs cold has died. Or the electricity supply to it has failed. This is why I hate DIY, hate buildings. They are unreliable. Things just go wrong. No intervention needed. Things with no moving parts fail. Things wear out way before their purported end of life. Things are made from metal the corrodes or wood that rots. And in the world of housebuilding we seem to be using the same techniques and materials as we did 50 years ago. Imagine if all other things were the same as 50 years ago. No mobile phones. No internet. 3 TV channels. Cathode Ray TVs heating the room. 1.3 litre engines giving 20mpg. No computers. No automatic heating and water controls. One phone in the house. No microwave oven. The list goes on. But houses? Oh yeah, timber, breeze block, some concrete, brick and felt mate......thats all you need. And copper pipes, you know the type you can only bend using blow torches. it's archaic bollocks.
This is the house that Jack built, presumably when he was pissed. In the last few years we've had 3 water leakages, one so severe it took £15k to repair the damage. This year alone 2 water leaks have meant insurance repairs. We've had around 10 vacuum cleaners in 19 years, we're on our 6th dishwasher and 7th washing machine in the same time.
So being a man of logic and science. It's either a shit built house. Or we have a poltergeist.
Later Mugs, GJ
Yesterday the water pump broke. The 2 year old pump fitted to pump the hot water and upstairs cold has died. Or the electricity supply to it has failed. This is why I hate DIY, hate buildings. They are unreliable. Things just go wrong. No intervention needed. Things with no moving parts fail. Things wear out way before their purported end of life. Things are made from metal the corrodes or wood that rots. And in the world of housebuilding we seem to be using the same techniques and materials as we did 50 years ago. Imagine if all other things were the same as 50 years ago. No mobile phones. No internet. 3 TV channels. Cathode Ray TVs heating the room. 1.3 litre engines giving 20mpg. No computers. No automatic heating and water controls. One phone in the house. No microwave oven. The list goes on. But houses? Oh yeah, timber, breeze block, some concrete, brick and felt mate......thats all you need. And copper pipes, you know the type you can only bend using blow torches. it's archaic bollocks.
This is the house that Jack built, presumably when he was pissed. In the last few years we've had 3 water leakages, one so severe it took £15k to repair the damage. This year alone 2 water leaks have meant insurance repairs. We've had around 10 vacuum cleaners in 19 years, we're on our 6th dishwasher and 7th washing machine in the same time.
So being a man of logic and science. It's either a shit built house. Or we have a poltergeist.
Later Mugs, GJ
Monday 28 January 2019
Brexit - Democracy in the UK
Afternoon Mugs
Now don't switch off. There's loads I can and maybe will say on Brexit. And before we move one bit further , let's make it clear. I'M A REMAINER. And sadly that makes it very unlikely I can ever be really good friends with anyone who voted to Leave. Well, let me the caveat that, I don't think I could be friends with someone who believes a hard Brexit is the way to go. The narrative seems to state that if we crash out without a deal, then we revert to WTO terms. The truth is much more complex that that. if we crash out then we'd be the only major economy with zero trade deals . These trade deals can take years to negotiate. The impact would be devastating. if the 2008 crash saw 2% decline in GDP, then this is estimated to take that to 9%.
Imagine that. Thought you knew what austerity meant? You wait until this baby hits you. But that isn't what this post is about really. Like many I'm pretty exhausted by the bollocks that is Brexit. Whatever happens I have an Irish passport. My insurance policy is there. I have freedom of movement, I can go and live in Ireland and yet I retain my UK nationality. Best of both worlds by an accident of birth.
No, this post is more about the absolutely dreadful site of UK democracy today. In my life this is without doubt the worst set of MPs I have ever know. The ones in keys positions of power are so bad I wouldn't trust them to run a bath on their own, let alone a country.We have an opposition front bench containing a communist in the loathsome bully John McDonnell and leader who is a supporter of Middle Eastern terrorist groups......yes, Jeremy Corbyn, that's you. Diane Abbott may be an honourably MP but there is no way she is capable pf high cabinet office. And words fail me on most of the others on the oppositions front bench. Barry Gardiner, slimy, duplicitous and pompous. Most of the others are just anonymous no-marks. The good ones such as Keir Starmer, Yvette Cooper, Chukka Umunna, Liz Kendall, Rachel Reeves, Owen Smith and others must be very cleverly biding their time to resume control when Labour inevitably loses the next election to the worst Tory party ever. Surely....they must be.....
Yes, the worst Tory party ever. A party infiltrated by Little England UKIP supports, divided on Europe, anti-gay, racist, hostile environment creating rhetoric. A party offering anyone under 30 absolutely nothing. Zero. Zilch. Fuck all. Not only are they so utterly incompetent that they are driving the country towards ruin whilst overseeing a rise in race and hate crime, they are the most loathsome set of Tories ever. How the hell does Esther McVey get elected. Who listens to her and Nadine Dorries and thinks 'yes, these are switched on' . If you vote for Boris Johnson or the utterly despicable Jacob Rees-Mogg, then you're a traitor to your class and the country unless you are Eton or Harrow educated and have a butler. Does anyone think they are MPs to serve national interest? And then bribing the duplicitous, nasty, vindictive, hypocritical DUP to prop them up and allowing a minority party to hold the country to ransom.
They are like so many of the 650 in place, career politicians, and as such they are a scourge on the country. And then you have the poor old Lib Dems, headed up by the nice but ageing and faltering Vince Cable. The SNP, a party I wholeheartedly agree with, headed up by one of the few good politicians around, Nicola Sturgeon, but now tainted by alleged sexual misdemeanours of former leader Alex Salmond.
The answers to this political malaise, and the rise of the politically homeless is simple.
1.) Get rid of the ridiculous 'first past the post' system which underpins the 2 party state and means MILLIONS of votes are utterly wasted. Proportional representation is the way to go.
2.) No more career politicians. No more leaving University and going straight into political mainstream life. No, you need to have worked in a real job for 8 years minimum, in fact I'd even be minded to restrict being an MP to a minimum age of 30, allowing for university to finish.
3.) MPs will only ever come from the area they represent.
4.) The House of Lords need replacing with a fully elected second house. Also PR based.
5.) At any time of war or national crisis, a UNITY government must be formed representing every party in Parliament.
6.) Voting is MANDATORY. yes, you have vote and must use it. people fought for that right, use to, and in a PR system every vote counts.
7.) There should be a fact checking independent body. A permanent Truth Commission. This would be to check any claims and facts spouted by both politicians AND the media. No more dressing things up. Facts, Facts, Facts, Indisputable facts. They would watch everything from parliamentary debates through to BBC Question Time, through to newspaper and in-line editorials.
8.) Mothball the Houses of Parliament and re-open to the pubs for visits. Build a new assembly building in London with other regionally. Modern buildings and do way with all the ceremonial bollocks except for the public and opening/closing of parliament maybe.
9.) If Scotland wants independence then grant it. Ditto, Wales and Northern Ireland.
Start there and re-engage people in politics. Move away from extremes because that isn't what Britain is about. In other words, tear the current rotten system up and start again with something for the 21st century.
Later Mugs, GJ
Now don't switch off. There's loads I can and maybe will say on Brexit. And before we move one bit further , let's make it clear. I'M A REMAINER. And sadly that makes it very unlikely I can ever be really good friends with anyone who voted to Leave. Well, let me the caveat that, I don't think I could be friends with someone who believes a hard Brexit is the way to go. The narrative seems to state that if we crash out without a deal, then we revert to WTO terms. The truth is much more complex that that. if we crash out then we'd be the only major economy with zero trade deals . These trade deals can take years to negotiate. The impact would be devastating. if the 2008 crash saw 2% decline in GDP, then this is estimated to take that to 9%.
Imagine that. Thought you knew what austerity meant? You wait until this baby hits you. But that isn't what this post is about really. Like many I'm pretty exhausted by the bollocks that is Brexit. Whatever happens I have an Irish passport. My insurance policy is there. I have freedom of movement, I can go and live in Ireland and yet I retain my UK nationality. Best of both worlds by an accident of birth.
No, this post is more about the absolutely dreadful site of UK democracy today. In my life this is without doubt the worst set of MPs I have ever know. The ones in keys positions of power are so bad I wouldn't trust them to run a bath on their own, let alone a country.We have an opposition front bench containing a communist in the loathsome bully John McDonnell and leader who is a supporter of Middle Eastern terrorist groups......yes, Jeremy Corbyn, that's you. Diane Abbott may be an honourably MP but there is no way she is capable pf high cabinet office. And words fail me on most of the others on the oppositions front bench. Barry Gardiner, slimy, duplicitous and pompous. Most of the others are just anonymous no-marks. The good ones such as Keir Starmer, Yvette Cooper, Chukka Umunna, Liz Kendall, Rachel Reeves, Owen Smith and others must be very cleverly biding their time to resume control when Labour inevitably loses the next election to the worst Tory party ever. Surely....they must be.....
Yes, the worst Tory party ever. A party infiltrated by Little England UKIP supports, divided on Europe, anti-gay, racist, hostile environment creating rhetoric. A party offering anyone under 30 absolutely nothing. Zero. Zilch. Fuck all. Not only are they so utterly incompetent that they are driving the country towards ruin whilst overseeing a rise in race and hate crime, they are the most loathsome set of Tories ever. How the hell does Esther McVey get elected. Who listens to her and Nadine Dorries and thinks 'yes, these are switched on' . If you vote for Boris Johnson or the utterly despicable Jacob Rees-Mogg, then you're a traitor to your class and the country unless you are Eton or Harrow educated and have a butler. Does anyone think they are MPs to serve national interest? And then bribing the duplicitous, nasty, vindictive, hypocritical DUP to prop them up and allowing a minority party to hold the country to ransom.
They are like so many of the 650 in place, career politicians, and as such they are a scourge on the country. And then you have the poor old Lib Dems, headed up by the nice but ageing and faltering Vince Cable. The SNP, a party I wholeheartedly agree with, headed up by one of the few good politicians around, Nicola Sturgeon, but now tainted by alleged sexual misdemeanours of former leader Alex Salmond.
The answers to this political malaise, and the rise of the politically homeless is simple.
1.) Get rid of the ridiculous 'first past the post' system which underpins the 2 party state and means MILLIONS of votes are utterly wasted. Proportional representation is the way to go.
2.) No more career politicians. No more leaving University and going straight into political mainstream life. No, you need to have worked in a real job for 8 years minimum, in fact I'd even be minded to restrict being an MP to a minimum age of 30, allowing for university to finish.
3.) MPs will only ever come from the area they represent.
4.) The House of Lords need replacing with a fully elected second house. Also PR based.
5.) At any time of war or national crisis, a UNITY government must be formed representing every party in Parliament.
6.) Voting is MANDATORY. yes, you have vote and must use it. people fought for that right, use to, and in a PR system every vote counts.
7.) There should be a fact checking independent body. A permanent Truth Commission. This would be to check any claims and facts spouted by both politicians AND the media. No more dressing things up. Facts, Facts, Facts, Indisputable facts. They would watch everything from parliamentary debates through to BBC Question Time, through to newspaper and in-line editorials.
8.) Mothball the Houses of Parliament and re-open to the pubs for visits. Build a new assembly building in London with other regionally. Modern buildings and do way with all the ceremonial bollocks except for the public and opening/closing of parliament maybe.
9.) If Scotland wants independence then grant it. Ditto, Wales and Northern Ireland.
Start there and re-engage people in politics. Move away from extremes because that isn't what Britain is about. In other words, tear the current rotten system up and start again with something for the 21st century.
Later Mugs, GJ
Wednesday 23 January 2019
Shingles is a bastard
Afternoon Mugs
There are loads of things that happen as we get older. Stuff stops working quite as well. Befuddlement sets in as millennials re-write language. We scratch our heads at the notion of people not wanting gender labelling and then coming up with LGBTTTQQIAA to cover all bases. I mean, honestly could they make that any more cumbersome? Society changes and we're not consulted. And then we're made out to be the wrong 'uns.
Despite the growing awareness and frequency of things not working quite as well as they used to, it does seem that on top of that you're a bit more susceptible to other things hitting you. Things they don't teach you at school .
Three years ago I thought I was dying (as we all do in our 50s when we get ill) on the way to work. I was having what I thought were stomach cramps, but with no...ahem...end result the pain got worse. I should have turned around but being the brave (stupid) sort of person persevered and got to work. I was soaking through sweat and spent nearly 90 minutes in a toilet sweating more and more and getting weaker and weaker. In the end I cut my losses and struggled back home. I reckon I was so u fit to drive that any police officer pulling me up would have wanted to throw the book at me and then probably would have called the paramedics. It was THAT bad. What was it? Kidney Stones. They were zapped a few days later, itself an unpleasant and painful experience. No-one will ever tell me that I won't know the excruciating pain of childbirth because even women I know who've had kids and kidney stones said the pain from the latter was worse.
In 2016 I had a fall on the way TO the pub because some ignorant prick parked his lorry on soft tarmac leaving a pothole on a poorly lit road. Shoulders and hip took a beating but worst was the ankle. In 2018 I had ankle ligament reconstruction surgery as I couldn't walk anywhere without risking yet another fall. From the original fall to the operation I had in the region of 7 other falls due to the ankle not having anything in the way of connected ligaments. All fixed now it seems, but yeah 3 months in a cast then a surgical boot. Just when the run of bad luck seemed over..........on Boxing Day, post hangover I felt inland my upper right chest and shoulder blasé had a strange ache, and my right nipple itched, but an itch that scratching just seemed to ignite pain in deep.
In typical bloke fashion you think the worst. HellsBells on the other hand, despite the full on Nurse Ratched levels of sympathy and compassion said 'Shingles'. My response was 'Bollocks, there's no rash'.
Of course there wasn't a rash.....that doesn't come until later. So I hosted Boxing Night, sober and grumpy. Aware that the slightest touch to the now tingling areas would send me through the ceiling. Two days later there's the shingles rash. A visit to the doctor confirmed it. Fien, I thought, my tough luck, a few weeks of discomfort and no beer won't hurt. The rash lasts a week or so, but now.......now.....just as a sting in the tail....I am suffering post-herpetic neuralgia. And bloody rotten it is as well. It stabs, shoots, aches, tingles itches like hell and there's sod all to be done except take Gabapentin and try not to scratch. Scratching is like an invite to the nerves to lash back with excruciating, eye-watering pain.
I've had better starts to the New Year.
Later Mugs, GJ
There are loads of things that happen as we get older. Stuff stops working quite as well. Befuddlement sets in as millennials re-write language. We scratch our heads at the notion of people not wanting gender labelling and then coming up with LGBTTTQQIAA to cover all bases. I mean, honestly could they make that any more cumbersome? Society changes and we're not consulted. And then we're made out to be the wrong 'uns.
Despite the growing awareness and frequency of things not working quite as well as they used to, it does seem that on top of that you're a bit more susceptible to other things hitting you. Things they don't teach you at school .
Three years ago I thought I was dying (as we all do in our 50s when we get ill) on the way to work. I was having what I thought were stomach cramps, but with no...ahem...end result the pain got worse. I should have turned around but being the brave (stupid) sort of person persevered and got to work. I was soaking through sweat and spent nearly 90 minutes in a toilet sweating more and more and getting weaker and weaker. In the end I cut my losses and struggled back home. I reckon I was so u fit to drive that any police officer pulling me up would have wanted to throw the book at me and then probably would have called the paramedics. It was THAT bad. What was it? Kidney Stones. They were zapped a few days later, itself an unpleasant and painful experience. No-one will ever tell me that I won't know the excruciating pain of childbirth because even women I know who've had kids and kidney stones said the pain from the latter was worse.
In 2016 I had a fall on the way TO the pub because some ignorant prick parked his lorry on soft tarmac leaving a pothole on a poorly lit road. Shoulders and hip took a beating but worst was the ankle. In 2018 I had ankle ligament reconstruction surgery as I couldn't walk anywhere without risking yet another fall. From the original fall to the operation I had in the region of 7 other falls due to the ankle not having anything in the way of connected ligaments. All fixed now it seems, but yeah 3 months in a cast then a surgical boot. Just when the run of bad luck seemed over..........on Boxing Day, post hangover I felt inland my upper right chest and shoulder blasé had a strange ache, and my right nipple itched, but an itch that scratching just seemed to ignite pain in deep.
In typical bloke fashion you think the worst. HellsBells on the other hand, despite the full on Nurse Ratched levels of sympathy and compassion said 'Shingles'. My response was 'Bollocks, there's no rash'.
Of course there wasn't a rash.....that doesn't come until later. So I hosted Boxing Night, sober and grumpy. Aware that the slightest touch to the now tingling areas would send me through the ceiling. Two days later there's the shingles rash. A visit to the doctor confirmed it. Fien, I thought, my tough luck, a few weeks of discomfort and no beer won't hurt. The rash lasts a week or so, but now.......now.....just as a sting in the tail....I am suffering post-herpetic neuralgia. And bloody rotten it is as well. It stabs, shoots, aches, tingles itches like hell and there's sod all to be done except take Gabapentin and try not to scratch. Scratching is like an invite to the nerves to lash back with excruciating, eye-watering pain.
I've had better starts to the New Year.
Later Mugs, GJ
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