A reformed cynic

Head Rambles Posted on by 6

I do honestly try not to be so cynical about everything.

It’s a trait which even I find irritating, though these days it’s very hard not to cast a very jaundiced eye on life.

Anyhows I was browsing around and I came across an article:

Government wants building of old age retirement villages to begin by November 2019.

My instant reaction was “Oh yeah, the bastards just want our houses”.

I chided myself.  This was typical cynicism and I really must stop.  Maybe there are other reasons for their plans?  So I read on. 

Apparently they want to “move away from the model of nursing homes towards community based retirement villages, similar to what is seen in the US“.  This is indeed a good thing.  Give the wrinklies their own little private spaces whilst providing all the central facilities that are required in ancient age.  I think most people would prefer that to being stuck in an old folks home somewhere at the mercy of the staff?

There are times when living at home ceases to be viable for some.  There may be a need for constant nursing, or specialist equipment.  The person’s house may not be adaptable to their needs or they may need constant medical attention.  A retirement village provides independence where the occupant has their own furniture, their own car and total independence while at the same time providing a community. to prevent isolation.

Indeed I was wrong to be cynical.  It seems that the gubmint is actually doing something altruistic for a change.  I read on.  I reached the bottom of the article.

The aim of moving away from the nursing home model towards more home-based community care is to encourage elderly residents to sell their homes and move to a local retirement village. In doing so, larger homes could be placed back on the market for families to purchase.

Fuck them.  I was right with my instinct.  The fuckers do want our houses.

I’m going back to being a cynic where I belong.



Piss off Deirdre

Head Rambles Posted on by 12

Here we go again.

Storm Deirdre!

Status Orange!

It’s raining.  But it’s the middle of December and rain is hardly a big surprise.  Yes, it’s a fucking horrible day out there [and I have to go out in it yet] but there is no need to get anyone’s knickers in a twist.

It’s windy.  Again, so what?  I repeat – December.  What do they want me to do about it?  Am I supposed to stay all my trees in case they blow over?  Am I supposed to take to the bunker?  If trees are going to blow down then blow down they shall.  There is fuck all I can do about it as I don’t know which trees will fall and all I can do is wait until the wind dies down to examine the damage.  Basically, all “Status Orange” means is batten down your garden trampolines.

Anyway, I suppose I had better go out for the paper.  I shall of course take precautions such as putting on a cap and coat, but I use my own intelligence to work out what to wear and not some breathless “Status”.  I have seen wind and rain before and doubtless will see both in equally copious quantities again in the future.  There again, I suppose the modern Snowflakes need someone to tell them what to wear in case they should venture out?

Incidentally – a little footnote.

There was a dead mouse beautifully laid out on the floor outside my bedroom door this morning.

Cat must have read my little brainfart yesterday.

Is she trying to prove her worth, or just apologising?

The contemplation of murder

Head Rambles Posted on by 6

Patricide means killing your father, while matricide means killing your mother.

What’s the word for killing your cat?  Caticide? Felixicide? Moggicide?

I am close to joining that aforementioned category one way or another.

It’s raining on and off for the last while, with no signs of it stopping.  Not surprising really as it is Winter?  But the problem is that Cat hates rain.  She refuses to go out in it and if I boot her out, she grabs a quick piss and immediately screeches at me to let her in again.

So she is spending most of her time indoors where she is in one of three conditions – asleep, bored or hungry.  Asleep is the only chance I have for a bit of peace.  Hungry is tricky because I lately got a different cat food and she loves it so she wants feeding nearly all the time so I get constant and really annoying yowling all the time.  She’s fat enough so I have to keep yelling at her to shut the fuck up.  Bored means she annoys the dog and me with more random yowling.  Occasionally she will play with a bit of plastic that she sends flying around the floor but most of the time she just yowls for attention.

A while ago she started showing interest in the office junk back room door.  That keeps her happy for a while [especially as the door tends to close itself while she’s in there!].  I don’t know what she does in there but it did cross my mind that there may be a mouse. 

A couple of weeks ago I went into that room.  It normally smells of old paper and old house but this time there was a strong and rather nasty smell.  It was sort of sweet and sickly and did put me in mind of a decomposing body.  Maybe Cat had found a mouse and had done the decent thing?  There was no sign of a corpse though. 

Over the next day the smell got worse so I had to hold my breath going in.

On the day after,  the room smelled as it always had done.  No nasty odours at all.  Weird.

Unless the mouse had come to life again?

A resurrection on the third day?

Stranger things have happened?

Hotel Bralifornia

Head Rambles Posted on by 18

Life is busy here at the moment.

I’m working on a wee project that may see the light of day in the near future.

I am also dodging all news and meeja outlets because they are all full the Theresa May shenanigans.  I am sick of hearing about confidence votes and Brexit.

There is one basic fact that the Great Unwashed in the UK seem to be unaware of.  It’s surprising because it is so fucking obvious.  

The EU is never going to let you leave.

Ever since its inception the aim has been to create a European Superstate ruled by the unelected elite.  They knew damn well that the idea wouldn’t be popular so they introduced it by stealth.  It was like the anti-smoker ban – salami slices starting with just a little bit and once that was accepted add another little bit and so on.

At first people went along with the idea.  It seemed sensible that a common trading agreement was put in place.  And then it sort of seemed sensible to harmonise some laws.  So then they started making their own laws.  A common currency seemed like a sensible idea [not having to change currencies on your holliers?  Great idea].  Bit by bit like the roots of a tree, they infested just about every aspect of member countries.

They now have their Super State in all but name.  They control our finances, laws, defence and most of all – trade.  There are so many treaties and agreements that everything is intertwined and interlocked.  They are like brambles in a garden – impossible to remove.

So the UK wants out.  No fucking way.  They will throw everything they have at the idea and will block any attempts to worm out from all the bureaucracy because it is all so deeply embedded at this stage.  In the event of the UK just telling them to fuck themselves they will simply build an economic wall around the UK forcing it to its knees, and effectively creating a blockade and plunging the UK into chaos.

You can check out any time you like
But you can never leave!

Mayday

Head Rambles Posted on by 10

Dearest Theresa,

I hear you are having a wee drop of trouble with a vote or something?  Something to do with a lack of confidence in your own party?

Now I have a very simple solution to your little problem.

  1. Announce that the vote is to be held and make sure everyone is in the chamber.
  2. Bolt the “No” door.
  3. Call for the vote.
  4. Get someone to shout “BOMB!!“.

I think I can guarantee unanimous Ayes?

You’re welcome….

Grandad