Wednesday, December 15, 2010


Dangerous Dogs

Do you remember a few years ago all the fuss over dangerous dogs which lead to the Dangerous Dogs Act.

Back then I seem to recall the concern was over chavs and other low-lifes owning nasty vicious dogs which they were unwilling or unable to control.

Whiz forward to 2010 and we have two very interesting incidents involving dangerous dogs.

Police Superintendent Julia Pendry (above left) was for some unstated reason keeping a police German Shepherd at her home when it attacked and injured a neighbour's dog. It is somewhat ironic that this police officer was in charge of the Met's dog unit and the force's efforts to crack down on dangerous dogs. She has previously said "it would be absolutely fantastic’ to kill the thousands of illegal breed, dangerous dogs confiscated by police." You try saying that out loud in public and see how long it is before plod, or even worse, the RSPCA show up and have you prosecuted for under some surreal New Labour law.

Obviously as a police officer Pendry is above the law and has not faced charges or police discipline over this incident. This whole episode stinks to high heaven.

Then we have the case of Judge Beatrice Bolton (above right) who has, much to my surprise, actually been convicted of failing to control her dangerous dog. Her behaviour during her trial and her reaction to the verdict tell is all we need to know about the true nature of this pillar of the judiciary.

The question springs to mind as to what one of these women did to avoid prosecution that the other one didn't, or perhaps wasn't asked to. But there are more serious issues here.

If we accept that the Dangerous Dogs Act was brought in to deal with the problem of low-lifes and chavs not controlling their vicious dogs. Is it fair to assume that these two cases show that the woeful state of the police and judiciary is because they are full of low-lifes and chavs? I think it does and that is all that matters.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Limosine of the Damned

19 Year old student Molly Millard

Concern was growing last night over the well being of the students involved in the attack on Prince Charles' limo during the tuition fee riots earlier this week.

While non of the students actually came into contact with the royal personages it seems the close proximity of the students to the Prince and his ageing consort has caused some serious psychological problems for the students. Since their arrest by police they have received treatment at St Filthy's Hospital for Proles.

Commenting on the behaviour of the students Dr. Sven Smegmaaarsen said "We are very concerned about the symptoms being displayed by the students. Many of the young men have become very bitter and keep asking the nurses if their mothers have died yet. Others do nothing but sit in the hospital gardens talking to the plants. Some wander the grounds criticising the hospital's architecture. The majority of the rest are causing real problems. They are roaming the hospital telling other patients that if the disease they are being treated for doesn't kill them global warming will.

Dr. Smegmaaarsen went on "It's the female students we are most concerned about. Every female student who got anywhere near Camilla's side of the vehicle seems to have aged by about 30 years. We are currently looking at possible treatments but the prognosis for these girls is not good.

A source inside Clarence House has confirmed that the royal couple have suffered no ill effects from the attack. Speaking off the record she said "Both Prince Charles and Lady Camilla do not seem to have been affected by the behavior of these oiks in fact Camilla is looking 30 years younger. It's just like having the old Queen Mum back.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

The Icelandic Gambit

I see the Lib-Dum angst over tuition fees disappeared at voting time. Their high minded principles thrown to the wind in order to maintain their tenuous hold on a little power. Except, of course, the ones like Ming the Clueless, Charley "I'll have a double" Kennedy and Simon "completely irrelevant" Hughes who don't have government jobs.

The one upside in this is that the lib-dums are totally screwed. Until now they have been able to peddle the myth that, should they be given power, they would keep all their promises and be nice to everyone and everyday would be the first day of spring and.......... Nick and his gang flushed that one right down the gurgler this afternoon.

The BBC are upset. They have been running pretty solid anti tuition fee coverage for weeks while completely neglecting to mention that darling Labour originally introduced tuition fees. They also neglect to mention that tuition fees are only necessary because of Labour's stupid 50% must go to uni policies.

A courageous Prime Minister coming to power after 13 years of Labour left wing madness might have been expected to to set about the education system and to have worked to reverse the worst of the damage. Unfortunately we got the lefter than left Dave the Coward eager to build on the taxpayer bashing policies of the previous incumbent.

At home The Boy is on a gap year before taking up his uni place, Monkeygirl is 3 years behind him. So by the time they are both degreed up the family finances will be in a similar state to those of the Irish Republic.

Unlike the Irish, I plan on advising the kids to deploy the Icelandic Gambit. Having run up huge tuition debts simply refuse to pay. If necessary take their talents overseas to somewhere they will be appreciated and where the UK government can't take their tribute straight out of your wages.

Contemplating leaving the UK isn't nearly as hard as it used to be.

P.S. My hat is off to the boy. He got off his backside and actually went on an anti-fees protest last week. He managed not to get arrested, clubbed over the head or whipped into a frenzy by left wing agitators.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Hot Buttered Rum

Me (back) and my brother (front) circa 1967/8

I don't know what it's like where you are but we have had a bit of a thaw here this morning and there is noticeably less global warming laying on the ground. Nevertheless it's still pretty cold and it looks like we may be set for an old fashioned British winter.

During cold spells like this it is important to keep up an adequate alcohol intake to maintain optimum health. Hearty soups and warming casseroles may warm you up but you risk long term physical and psychological damage if your alcohol intake is neglected.

The ice filled concoctions I have mentioned previously on this blog are fine for warmer days but are not perhaps what is needed at present. So in the interests of greater public health I present some ideas for drinks which will keep you warm while also maintaining a health promoting alcohol intake.

Hot Buttered Rum

2 measures Dark Rum
2 1/2 measures water
1 tsp Brown Sugar or Honey
1 tsp Butter
1 small pinch of grated Nutmeg
4 drops Vanilla extract
1 small Cinnamon Stick

Heat rum, water and sugar/honey in saucepan until almost boiling (don't get it too hot we don't want to boil off the precious alcohol). Pour into glass with remaining ingredients and serve when butter melts.

I like to a a good slug of coconut syrup, don't be too heavy handed though we aren't trying to make hot buttered Malibu. You can use some ground cinnamon if not sticks are available.


2 measures Dark Rum
2 measures Water
2/3 measure Lime Juice
1 tsp Brown Sugar
2 Cloves
1 small Cinnamon Stick

Heat gently in a saucepan to dissolve sugar, then strain into a glass, arrrrrrrr.

Canadian Cocoa

3/4 measure Canadian Whiskey (or Scotch or Bourbon)
3/4 measure Dark Rum
1/2 measure Creme de Cacao
5 measures Milk
2/3 measure Maple Syrup

Heat milk in a small pan until simmering. Add remaining ingredients and serve when syrup is dissolved.

Caribbean Milk

1 measure Dark Rum
1 measure Kahlua
4 measures Milk
1/2 measure Double Cream
1 Cinnamon Stick
1/2 slice Lemon

Heat ingredients in a small pan. Strain into glass. Again you can use ground cinnamon if cinnamon sticks are not available.

Cafe Henry the Third

1/3 measure Galliano
1/3 measure Kahlua
1/3 measure Grand Marnier
1/3 measure Brandy
5 measures Black Coffee
3 measures Whipped Cream

Add ingredients to glass. Sweeten to taste. Float the whipped cream on top.

Friday, December 3, 2010

The Warmists and the Whale Woman

Well the global warming is lying thick and deep across the country. The skies are leaden and threatening to drop more of the warm white stuff. I just dropped The Boy's car off for its MOT, doubtless there will be a big bill. So I'm not in the best of moods.

Still it's good to see that some folks are determined to brighten my day, whatever the cost.

On the walk home from the garage a car slowed to a halt beside me. The passenger wound down the window and asks if I know where Adams Autos is. I have already spotted that the car is a Prius. Normally all I would give this Prius driving pair is my views on warmists. Not today. Today I am in a bad mood.

"Are you looking for the showroom or the workshops?" I ask. "The showroom" responds the passenger.

"Ah, the showroom's are in the next village over, it's about 6 miles that way" I respond, waiving my arm in a generally southerly direction. "Your best bet is to turn round, take the second left, carry on for a couple of miles, then get onto the Motorway heading south, signed London. Get off at the next junction, it's only a couple of miles down the motorway. When you get off the motorway take the first left at the roundabout. Adams Autos is about a mile down that road, on the left, you can't miss it."

They offered their heartfelt thanks wound up the window and pulled away. A minute later they had turned round and are heading in the direction I had indicated. They wave and smile their thanks as they pass me. I smile and wave back.

Stupid bastards, I've never heard of Adams Autos and once on the motorway the next junction is about 35 miles south. Bloody warmists. I smile and head for the village Co-Op.

Five minutes later I'm in the Co-Op browsing for something for tea. Having picked up what I want I head for the checkout anticipating the usual 10 minute queue. Turning into the snack and confectionery aisle I am confronted with one of the village Chav females. She is a magnificent specimen of the chav life form. Fat doesn't do her justice, morbidly obese is closer but still inadequate. Her mobile is clamped to her ear as she carries on a loud conversation about what Shaz did to Daz down the pub last night. Pausing her conversation occasionally to swear at her three snot nosed kids as they run round the shop and generally make a real nuisance of themselves. It's quite surprising that such small children are able to escape her gravitational attraction so huge is this chav leviathan.

She wobbles between the displays of sweets, biscuits and crisps emptying the shelves into her basket. She seems not to be looking at what she is shoveling into her basket. She certainly isn't looking where she is going as her mobile conversation gets even louder and even more intense. Other shoppers flee her path like Pygmies fleeing a rampaging, enraged cow elephant.

As she approaches the end of the aisle she reaches for a large tin of Christmas chocolate biscuits from a display. At this moment one of her brats gets entangled in her legs, she trips, totters and falls. She hits the floor like Giant Haystacks hitting the canvas and I swear I heard the concrete floor crack. Fortunately she did not fall on the child but as she puts out her arms to break her fall her mobile goes flying through the air hitting the floor and breaking into more bits than is is good for a phone. It was a pointless exercise, her belly was always going to hit the floor long before her hands.

Like some grotesque cross between a whale and a turtle she flounders on the floor trying to turn herself over in order to get up. She curses her brats for tripping her and exhorts them to help her up. Fat chance.

The queue of people at the tills, being public spirited types, immediately went to her aid.
Pointless really, there was no way only six of them were going to get the whale woman back onto her feet. I reckoned their best option was to roll her out of the way and wait for a crane.

Me, I ignored the kerfuffle and with a huge grin on my face headed for the checkout while there was no queue. I shared a quiet laugh with the lad on the till and having paid for my purchases headed for the exit. Thoughtfully, I avoided stepping on the remains of Whale Woman's phone on my way out.

As I headed home the tow truck from the local garage passed me heading in the general direction of the Co-Op. I smiled again and my step became positively jaunty.