Goodbye Freedom

Well it's sort of goodbye freedom. In the loose sense that we have any real freedom these days. I refer of course to yet another piece of arse-gravy nanny state-ism emanating from the increasingly dictatorial and lunatic BMA. They want to ban smoking in cars. yes, that's you, the person who likes a quick puff on your way to work. The person who doesn't want to stand outside work for a fag but will sit in their own car, their private property for a smoke. 


It's all to protect the children apparently. Yes, that's right, the children who's parents have stopped letting them walk 500 yards to school, the parents who fill their lunchboxes with Mars bars and Cheesestrings, the parents who give them money for 'chips with everything' school dinners. The parents who use Nintendo Wii/PS3/X-Box360's as babyminders. The parents who drink a couple of bottles of red in the evening as an example of how to drink responsibly.


It's intrusive. It's the nanny state working overtime. It's health fascism. It's plain wrong. Lock the BMA twats up in a room and let as many smokers as possible breathe into that room. We really need to stop listening to fucking unelected know it all preaching intellectuals telling us what to do, and influencing an already too powerful government into legislating for laws no-one needs or asked for. 


Later Mugs, GJ

Destroy FIFA!!!!

This is a place for me to avoid sport in general. If I have something to moan about regarding my sporting obsessions there's plenty of other sites for me to go.

But this.......

FIFA Bans England from wearing the Poppy

has made the GJ blood boil. 

I respect the right for anyone NOT to wear the poppy, that's the beauty of freedom of choice but no-one has the right to prevent others wearing it. The Poppy is not a religious or political symbol, anymore than the breast cancer ribbon. It's a symbol of remembrance simple as that. 

FIFA is a corrupt, vile, obnoxious organisation headed ny a corrupt despot. And yet our FA and countless governments endorse it by appeasing it. They should hang their heads. 

Wear the shirts, to hell with FIFA, donate the fine to the poppy fund. Damn them all and show them for the amoral organisation they are.

And then leave it. Quit. Walk away. Watch the others follow, Germany, Spain, Italy and most of the major European footballing nations would  do the same. And then Brazil, Argentina, USA and others. FIFA would crumble and a new organisation could follow, one based on democratic and meritocratic principles.

Plus ca change, vive le revolution!!

Later you mugs, GJ

I had a dream that I was at Eton and  had asked my mate, Little Georgie Osbourne (as we knew him at Eton) if he fancied making me pay more tax, work more hours, take home less pay, pay more duty on alcohol and cigars, pay extra VAT, donate more to bankers bonuses, up the price of gas and electricity, throw some of my mates on the dole, decimate the police, dismantle the NHS, reduce the armed forces capability, whack up student fees, stick his nose into the Euro despite us not being in it, cut the BBC, stop the schools rebuilding programme, engineer a continuing housing slump and increase the retirement age to stop me drawing a pension I've been paying into for 33 years. I asked if he could do all that in 18 months.


He just laughed and said 'Impossible....no party could do all that'.................oh hang on.....


Later you Mugs, GJ

Pain and more pain

See that picture? It's by James Gillray depicting gout (the Gout) as he calls it. It's from 1799, back in the days when Ibuprofen and Voltarol would have sounded like Russian city names. It feels just as it looks, a devil driving its teeth direct into the bone. And completely latched on to you. It hurts more than when I dislocated and fractured my hip in a motorbike accident in 1992. I've never given birth but I reckon this comes close to that pain. 


Its ruined my new cycling exercise regime. I can't sleep. Yeah it's pushing 8 on the Grumpometer. And the worst thing today? Just making it to the toilet only to find there's barely any loo roll left. There's a roll upstairs. But I just manage on 4 sheets used sparingly. Indignity and pain? It's a double bonus day! 


The GoutDevil is snoozng now, driven down by my inactivity and the Voltarol. When it's finally gone i will then set about finding it's nest and wiping it out completely*


Later Mugs, GJ


*Apparently finding the trigger will be pure luck. Well the more I hunt, the luckier I get. 

It's simple

I like a moan, in fact I like it a lot. It keeps me happy. But sometimes it does my head in. Especially those who's life is a constant moan. And they want tgo tell you about it all the time. It's the cornerstone of their conversation. i'm a moaning knobber, but these people have PHDs in Moaning. Doctor Fuckwits, all of them. 


Later Mugs GJ

Gout. Why?

3 weeks and no gout and then today I wake up and can't walk. Well I can but I'm hobbling. Which of course means I look like a knob. Or a lead swinger. Maybe I need a plaster cast to get any sympathy. Either way the grumpometer is now at 7 on the scale of 10. 


Aaah, the grumpometer I hear you ask. This is a new high tech method of measuring grumpiness. Ratings of 1-3 are mere tetchiness. 4-6 is sarcastic mumbling, 7-9 is wishing the world would just fuck the fuck off and moody silence. 10 then brings in the Angerometer scale where ranting, shouting and violence to inanimate objects kicks in. This scale is exponential and therefore has decimal points from 0.1 to 10. I have never reached 20 but all I'm saying is that probably involves custodial sentences and psychiatric treatment in Europe. Maybe in the US it might mean 20 years in a small apartment on Death Row. 


But for now, the gout means its just a miserable day of pain.  Good job we still have the light and it's not raining....oh hang on....


Later Mugs, GJ

OK, so I had just about worn out the role at work, basically buggering about with Smart phones and the like. So I thought to myself....'If I know things are getting a bit thin work wise, then how long before the decision makers and beancounters know that?.

I've done nearly 17 years there but Plan A is to remain there until I'm 60 (yes, just 10 fucking short years away) ...well 10 and a bit...and then if The Company, and more importantly The Government allow me I'd rather like to retire. I do seem to be stuck in the generation that will never be allowed to retire (another subject for another day) or for whom retirement will be seen as a scourge as loads of saddo's continue to work past 65/67/69 (..pick an age..any age) and society makes it a norm to work until you die rather than enjoy a few years of lay ins and golf or whatever.

(Thats enough ranting...Ed)

So, when SirYesSir sent out the email saying that a colleague was moving on, I decided to grab the bull by the horns. I asked him into a vacant office and for the first time in my life I said 'Gissa job'...well more or less... 'more like 'Gissdat job'.

And he looked at me with snipers eyes, deep into the soul, smiled and said OK.

Now, call me old fashioned but this was very daring for me, someone from a generation where if you wanted a job you waited for it to be advertised then applied for it. Very quaint and honourable. Today's 'go getter' attitude is very different. Push, cajole, annoy, ask, demand is the new way. I expected of course to have a month to transition into the role, to hand off my old stuff and to gently bed in to the new. I asked on the 23rd December.........

......and I started on the 4th January. Lumped straight into meetings with humourless German directors, vacuous wannabees, Anne Widdecombe-like spinsters, puppy dog careerists and utter arseholes. There has to be someone nice coming along.

Feet and floor barely know each other. Arse barely made contact with any seat for more than 15 minutes.

I asked............and I certainly got.

Later GJ