Monday, 31 December 2018

2018 Psychic Predictions Revisited

If you boast a client list which includes Cher, Rod Stewart, Matt Dillon and Tom Cruise then you must be onto something so here are the results of just how close Psychic Nikki 2018 predictions were.

    Fire/explosion at the New York Times Newspaper     x
    Explosion at Penn Station in New York City        x
    Donald Trump Impeachment                x
    America will attack North Korea            x
    A blimp will explode in the U.S.            x   
    Terrorist attack in Oslo, Norway            x
    A space ship lands and take hostages        x
    A member of the royal family will be kidnapped    x
    Island of Malta almost destroyed by an earthquake    x
    A movie star will be killed by a shark        x
    A change in the Monarchy in England            x
    Israel and Iran attack each other            x
    A huge heist at the Louvre in Paris            x
    Elton John and David Furnish will split up        x
    Kim Kardashian and Kayne West will split        x
    David Beckham will split from his wife, Victoria    x
    The Rock has a Motorcycle accident            x
    Category 5 hurricane wipes out Miami        x
    An assassination attempt on the Queen        x

Nikki did say that an earthquake would hit the British Isles and we did have a few small quakes due to fracking so she got that right but the less said about the others the better because Rod Stewart and Cher may want to look elsewhere for their psychic kicks.

2018 Father Time & The Grim Reaper

Old Father Time leant his scythe against the bench and sat down wearily and as he was removing his 2018 sash the Grim Reaper walked up the pathway to join him.
'Hiya Time' he said cheerily as he sat down beside him, 'So how was 2018 for you?' he asked digging into the pocket of his cloak and taking out a cigarette.
'Usual stuff with the sex scandals, wars, murders and stupid World Leaders' sighed Time, 'How was your year? Reap anyone interesting?
Death lit the cigarette and blew out a plume of grey smoke before saying: 'Let's see, there was usual the hundred of thousands of war related deaths but celebrity wise, i got Burt Reynolds, Aretha Franklin, the dad out of Frasier, Stephen Hawking, Dale Winton, Eric Bristow, Leslie Grantham, Peter Stringfellow, Barry Chuckle, Pete Shelly and George Bush'.
'George Bush?'
'Yep, not the retarded cowboy one, his father'
'Oh, that one' 
'They have Donald Trump though so i'm not worried about running out of work anytime soon' chuckled Death 'so what was going on in 2018?'
'You will be glad to hear that after the school shooting in Florida, America decided to bravely do nothing about it'.
'Good old America, if they are not blowing up somewhere else they are shooting each other, would warm my heart if i had one' said Death 'although i did get worried when Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un met up, no WW3 for me now i thought'.
'Indeed' nodded Father Time wistfully. 
'Although Trump and the UK has been a bit of a let down on the war front this year' said the Reaper, 'Saudi Arabia have really stepped up to the plate and are not only carpet bombing Yemen civilians but they killed that journalist in Turkey and i can always rely on a steady stream of dead Palestinians courtesy of Israel'.     
'The UK have been obsessed with Brexit' said Time 'although there was a Royal Baby whose name nobody can remember and the ginger one married an American celebrity/actress/divorcee'
'Nice' nodded Death stubbing out his cigarette on the arm of the bench 'so how's 2019 shaping up? Global Warming still going ahead unheeded i notice, lucky me'
'Usual stuff i expect with even more sex scandals, wars, murders and stupid World Leaders' sighed Time reaching over to pick up the shiny, new 2019 sash and pulling it over his head.
'How's next year looking for you' he asked Death who smiled and opened his notepad and held it up to Time to read.
He glanced down the full list of names of the soon to be reaped and opened his eyes wide when he got to August.
'Really? he asked 'That many in one month?'    
'Yep, busy, busy, busy, oh well, no rest for the wicked, same time next year pal' and picking up his scythe, he walked away whistling the tune of Knocking On Heavens Door.

Sunday, 30 December 2018

What To Do With Unwanted Presents

While i am very much on board with the idea that when it comes to Christmas Presents it's the thought that counts, the phrase you really shouldn't have can trip easily off the tongue and thoughts turn to what time does the Charity Shop open.
Sometimes you get the receipt included and it is a short trip to the shop the present came from to exchange it for something that better suits our tastes but if you don't have the receipt, or the desire to trek into town to queue for an exchange, other alternatives are available including donating, recycling, swapping or regifting.
Regifting can be a minefield and everyone has a story of rewrapping a present for someone only to realise too late that it was them who gave it to you in the first place.  
There is also the ethics of what to do with unwanted presents such as looking your sister in the eye when you pretend you love those pink, crushed velvet pyjamas she got you in the knowledge that you took them back and swapped them for a pair of headphones on Boxing Day.
I don't know if there is a respectable length of time is to hang on to a present before passing it on but i will give it at least until February before i take the Alan Carr DVD i received to the charity shop to ruin the life of someone less fortunate.

Friday, 28 December 2018

Science Trying To Save Planet

It seems safe to say that our Politicians are not up to the job of sorting out our warming planet so we are living in hope that Science as usual comes up with a way to get us out of the hole we have got ourselves into before we all fry or float away on flood water and Harvard have come up with a plan, well a sort of plan anyway.
Using the notion that our Star is going to continue beaming down sunshine on us whatever we do, they are preparing to test dimming the sun by sending a balloon into the skies over the southwest United States and releasing a chalky material to bounce the sun’s heat back into space.
Basing their idea on historic massive volcanic eruptions which throw sulphur dioxide gas into the stratosphere which then bounces back so much of the sun’s light that the Earth’s average temperature dips.
Sounds good in theory but other scientists are warning that while the sulphur dioxide does cut the sun rays from hitting the ground, it also boosts levels of harmful ultraviolet light because of its effect on the ozone layer, which normally protects us from this radiation.
The first tests in the new year will release ice into the stratosphere from the balloon and then move onto small amounts of calcium carbonate dust, and possibly other materials to study their ability to bounce back sunlight.
The additional problem is if Science does find a way to stop the Earth warming, politicians will take it as a red light to not do anything to stop Global Warming and reduce the impact of CO2 levels in the atmosphere.
We have got ourselves in a mess and the only solution is to drastically cut the amount of emissions we spew into the atmosphere but at least Science is trying to do something which is more than the politicians who are doing less than butkus.

Another Fine Mess For Bowler Hats

I don't know if it is a Midlands thing only but over the Christmas i saw a few people wearing bowler hats, admittedly they were young hipster types and i imagine they thought they looked cool but my mind went straight to 'he looks like Stan Laurel'.   
Since coming back South i haven't seen any of the bowl shaped fashion items balanced on youngsters heads i'm glad to say because with the exception of the top hat, the Bowler is not a great look.
It's not for nothing that they spent years in the sartorial wilderness and even bankers who find braces and pinstripes appealing have left the Bowler in the 1970's where it belongs but the youth of today probably don't know about Laurel and Hardy.
Or the apple-faced Magritte, or Hercule Poirot or the Tintin books detectives Thomson and Thompson, A Clockwork Orange's Alex DeLarge and Bond villain Oddjob who all favoured the bowl shaped hat.
Admittedly Oddjob did use his to decapitate people but the rest are not people you would go out of your way to want to look like but that said, it is still better than the baseball cap which only American tourists in loud shirts and nobody over 16 anywhere else should be wearing.

Monday, 24 December 2018

Special Guest Blogger: Father Christmas

Hello, boys and girls. As you might imagine, this is a very busy time of year for Santa and the last thing i need to be doing is squeezing in writing a blog post but i have been promising Lucy for the last few years i would do one so here it is before i finish off the shopping and Christmas shopping here in the North Pole area is not exactly easy. We've got a Poundland and a Sports Direct but that's about it.
One of the questions i get asked the most is 'What the worst thing about being Santa?' Well the hours aren't great and the three million mince pies in one evening doesn't do my sugar levels or waistline any favours but getting my hands on coal for the naughty kids is getting tougher, global warming and all that.
Being the North Pole, we see the climate changes here more than most so where we once had snow right up to the window sills, the ice and snow has retreated further than ever but the good news is i found my bike again.
Another new problem is crossing into America to deliver presents, especially with the Orange Grinch in control. Last year three of my elves got put into a metal cage in an immigration camp while crossing at the Mexican border. Took Mrs Claus three days to prove to Immigration Officials that they weren't children and were not trying to claim asylum.
One final thing that grates is that everyone calls me something different. To make it clear, Father Christmas is the office i hold while Santa Claus is my name so i'm not sure why people started calling me St Nicholas, Père Noël, Sinterklaas, Papa Noel, Babbo Natale Christmas Man or Kris Kringle and anyone who calls me Santa Baby is going to find an extra large lump of coal in their stocking.
On the upside, the global recession has meant smaller lists and therefore a lighter sack so Mrs Claus doesn't spend all of January rubbing Deep Heat into my sore back so Ho, Ho, Ho and make sure you are all in bed before i arrive this Christmas Eve and if you could maybe leave a satsuma rather than a mince pie this year it would be much appreciated.

Sunday, 23 December 2018

Special Guest Blogger: Melchior Of The Three Wise Men

Anyone who knows their theology will know that three wise men turning up with presents is quite an old tradition, we popped up in earlier religions also at the birth of Buddha, Crishna, Rama and Confucius so when we heard of yet another saviour turning up in Judea, Belthazar, Gaspar and myself, Melchior, began to make arrangements.
First we brainstormed baby gifts but we hadn't been given much notice and it was early closing today so all we could get was some Frankincense (buy one get one free so that's also mums birthday present sorted). Gaspar says he had some Myrrh hanging around that he wouldn't ever use so he will give it that. Gold is always handy so we grabbed some of that as well.
Then we made the travel arrangements, obviously camel, but Gaspar's had been stolen but mine was a two seater so we packed the presents and set off in the general direction of Judea.
When we got there the place was a bit of a pigsty, literally, there were angels being chased by cows and the poor kid was in a food trough and an annoyed looking sheep was nibbling at the baby's blankets.
When you have seen one saviours birth you have seen them all so we left the presents by the door and quickly left them to it leaving the sounds of Mary shouting 'Oi, what am i supposed to do with 2lbs of Myyrh' behind us.
Despite the start, i'm glad things turned out okay for the kid, the Romans nailing him to a cross thing aside, but things have been a bit quiet on the 'birth of saviours' front recently but the three of us are always available for nativities, birthday parties and hen nights.

Saturday, 22 December 2018

Special Guest Blogger: Chief Elf Snowball McTwinkle

If asked, i would say officially that my main role is making sure that all the toys are made, packaged and on the sleigh in time for Santa to do his rounds on Christmas Eve but unofficially i see my main role as Chief Elf is making sure that my fellow Elf's (or Non-Standard Height Workers as we liked to be known) are treated correctly by the big man.
For example, this year i balloted my workers for strike action over Santa's plans to change the break time meals of candy, cakes and cookies to a healthier diet of vegetables and fruit due to the costs of treating our Type 2 Diabetes but Santa soon backed down when Mrs Claus pointed out that he didn't pay us anyway and stepping over Elf's in a diabetic coma was a small price to keep the children of the World happy.
Santa, you see, comes across as a jolly, benevolent fellow but in the workshop, away from the eyes of the World, he is a tyrant but really, it wasn't that hard to work out, he is a big fat guy with a bushy white beard. Remind you of anyone, maybe one of the Marx family?    
Then there was the red suit and the giving stuff away and not selling it for a massive mark-up, it isn't brain brain surgery people, it's all about redistributing the toys.
The less subtle clues were the fact that 'Ho, Ho, Ho' is Latin for 'Workers of the World Unite' and if you play the chorus of 'White Christmas' backwards you can clearly hear the phrase 'From each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs' repeated over and over.
Then there is the list of all the boys and girls and who are either in the system (nice) in which case there are richly rewarded with presents or outside of it (naughty) and they get nothing.
So yes, for all those who have suspected that we has been brazenly feeding Marxism to the innocent, capitalist offspring, you are right so, you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout and i'm telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town and he is carrying a hammer and sickle comrade.

Friday, 21 December 2018

Special Guest Blogger: Saint Nicholas

The last thing i want is to come across as grumpy, sure i appreciate the whole Christmas thing but in my lifetime i received a visit from the Virgin Mary herself, brought back to life dead children, calmed a storm at sea, saved innocent soldiers from execution and chopped down a demon possessed tree but mention the name Saint Nicholas and all i'm remembered for is throwing some coins into some prostitutes socks.
To make things even worse it led to the story of the jolly fat guy in the red suit who would replace my boss's kid as the face of Christmas and i'm not jolly or fat and wouldn't be seen dead in a red suit, i was always more of a grey smock guy.
At least the Beach Boys remembered me although at 5ft in my stockinged feet the 'Little Saint Nick' was a bit of a dig, you try clambering up on rooftops when your 5ft tall, not easy i tell you.
Anyway, at least i'm remembered all these years later, remember Saint Agathangels? Nope? There you go then, it's George, Valentine and me and i invented Christmas so that beats fighting dragons and zinging arrows into people butts.
As thanks for giving the World Christmas and Santa, they made me the Patron Saint of Portsmouth and Liverpool for crying out loud. I know i'm a Saint with a hotline to the Big Guy but anyone who has been to either of those places know even i couldn't conjure up enough of a miracle for them, if i had known at the time i would have kept off the roofs and kept my coins in my pocket.
Still, enjoy the holidays that i gave you and when you think of Christmas remember me, the man who gave money to sex workers who then morphed into a fat guy with gout and high blood pressure who comes into your bedroom when your asleep and leaves you presents which isn't creepy at all.
Right, where's my axe, that Elm Tree in the back yard has been speaking in tongues again.

Thursday, 20 December 2018


For some reason i am getting emails from people leaving me messages and trying to contact me on LinkedIn.
As far as i am aware i have never joined, signed up or registered with LinkedIn so the LucyP on LinkedIn is not me so don't bother contacting me through it.
Anyone who wants to contact me can email me at the address in the contact page on the profile section of this blog but i certainly won't be able to reply through LinkedIn.

Special Guest Blogger: Joseph

When it comes to the Nativity scene there are several main characters but i don't seem to be amongst them, my only role was to hire a donkey and get Mary to a stable in Bethlehem and then stand at the back and keep quiet while a sheep nibbled on my tunic.
I don't get songs sang about me and the only line said by young children with tea-towels wrapped around their heads in school plays is to ask if there is any room in the inn but i'm not bitter, okay so maybe a little bit.   
Where was the Father when his son was growing up? It was me who wiped his snotty nose when he had a cold and that boy seemed to have a permanent cold and don't get me started on the cost of medicine and no maintenance payments ever came our way although him having the knack of making a loaf of bread feed 5000 people came in handy as did that Gold those nice men in the fancy clothes brought. 
Don't get me wrong, that my wife is exalted to the highest is nice but it was a bit of a shock when she told me nine months earlier that while i was out buying a new hammer, God had came down from heaven and splashed his Holy seed at her and impregnated her with man's Saviour. Oh, and i needed to get her to Bethlehem pronto and anyone who has tried to hire a donkey on Christmas Eve knows that's easier said then done.
So despite being the 'dad', only playing a very minor role in the whole nativity thing and not getting a carol or a hymn, (even the donkey gets its own song), the worst bit was that conversation with the boy about who his real father was. Talk about Awkward!!

Wednesday, 19 December 2018

Special Guest Blogger: Jesus

Being 2018 years old my Birthday celebrations are toned down to how they used to be. I would make the most of having Christmas and my Birthday on the same day, it was party, party, party but my Father said my behaviour wasn't befitting the son of God so in the name of multi-culturalism, instead of necking anything mildly alcoholic and chasing angels with a sprig of mistletoe, my father opened up the celebrations to the deities and spiritual representatives of other faiths.
On my birthday last year we had Muhammad, Moses, Abraham, Ganesh, Krishna, Vishnu, Shiva, Zeus, Athena, Buddha, Ra, Odin, Venus and Thor and after the discussion over whether The Bible or Harry Potter was better (we all agreed Harry Potter as it had mail delivering owls and quidditch) we had a game of charades.
I will admit that handing Ganesh the Elephant Man film to act out was not a smart move and calling Abraham, the founding father of the Covenant, Father Abraham and asking him to sing the Smurf Song didn't go down well but things really took a downward spiral when Joseph turned up. 
As my dad, i always feel a bit sorry for Joseph, it can't have been easy for him and he was there for me growing up in a way that The Father never was so i sent him an invite to join in on my special day.
You can imagine the chilly atmosphere that flooded the room when he stepped in, The Father stayed in the kitchen until the party broke up about an hour later and then i had to listen to him rant about how Joseph is just a mortal and it was him who created the World in 6 Days while Joseph took a week just to knock up a spice rack, and even that was wonky.
He calmed down after a few beers and finding some old 'Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em' on the Xmas Gold channel, a bit of Frank Spencer always cheers him up.
We watched 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' until late and just before we turned in to bed i asked him 'Do you think that my birth in Bethlehem all those years ago changed the world for the better?'
He plucked at his beard for a long while, staring into the middle distance and then said, 'Buddha broke the toilet seat, i'll sort it out in the morning' and hastily left the room.
Families huh.

Tuesday, 18 December 2018

Changing High Street

High Street shops rely on the Christmas to pick up any slack they may have suffered during the year so when the tills are not ringing as they need at Christmas, oh dear.
Online fashion retailers ASOS, Zaslanda and Boohoo have all issued profit warnings highlighting a major downturn in trading sending their shares plummeting but the shops in the High Street have also taken a battering with Marks & Spencer, Next, Debenhams, Sports Direct, Bon Marche, Superdry and Primark all suffering lower than expected sales receipts.
There has been a string of stores go out of business or announce shop closures this year and the shopping centres could be about to  see another massive wave of empty shops.
ASOS Chief put the poor performance down to a mix of Brexit and a weakening in consumer confidence (whatever that means) and payments company Visa said consumer spending fell by the most since July last month, while another survey said British households finances are hit after a decade of austerity and stagnant wages.
My thoughts are with the employees of the stores in financial trouble because they will be the ones who suffer the most if the problems continue, further victims of a decade old financial crash which still hasn't been dealt with.

Special Guest Blogger: King Herod

While i am always portrayed as the big bad in the Nativity Story, it's about time i put my side of events across.
I would like to start with the story most associated with me, the story of the birth of Baby Jesus which begins with Joseph and Mary travelling from Nazareth to Bethlehem and being turned away by a succession of inn keepers.
Of course if the Senate had taken me up on my offer for a total shutdown of foreigners entering Bethlehem or the idea to build a Border Wall around Bethlehem and make Nazareth pay for it as i suggested,  then we wouldn't have had the problem to start with so, as illegal immigrants, the inn keepers were perfectly right to turn the couple away.
When Nazareth sends its people, they're not sending the best. They're bringing drugs, they're bringing crime. They're rapists and some, I assume, are good people.
As usual, one do-gooder lefty bleeding heart proprietor, instead of telling them to stop taking beds which properly belong to the Bethlehem people, allowed them to stay in their stable condemning his customers to the inconvenience of the faint sounds of the foreigner howling in pain as she gave birth, annoying even if she was a young and beautiful piece of ass. 
Taking advantage, they not only emptied out the manger to make a makeshift bed for their child born out of wedlock, but they disrupted the animals and made a right mess of the hay, hay which had been paid for by hard working tax payers.
As usually happens if you let the foreigners flood in, chaos follows with a massive, bright star lighting up the stable further disrupting the inns paying customers sleep and the stable quickly filling with uninvited foreign men illegally bringing gold, frankincense and myrrh which they had smuggled through customs and would reduce the value of the commodities, further hitting the wages of Bethlehem's hard working shepherds.
The story does have a happy ending though as i upheld right wing values by first ordering all foreign children be snatched away from their parents at the border and held in cages but then upgraded it to  slaughtering the first-born of all moany, whinging, liberal traitors and although many said it was harsh, well, let's say that if they hadn't been there then they would have been safe.
So everyone loved me and we all had a very Merry Christmas that year, the biggest and best Christmas i tell you, and if you hear any different about me then it's all fake news

Sunday, 16 December 2018

December 16th: Happy Birthday

I always thought that December 26th or January 1st are the worst possible days to have a Birthday on, just after everyone has just finished exchanging presents and eating and drinking themselves silly but apparently there is a worst day, December 16.
Being born nine days before Christmas you share a birthday with Jane Austen, Noël Coward, Arthur C Clarke, Philip K Dick, Quentin Blake and Christopher Biggins but a survey by Interflora say it is basically a write-off.
What makes it especially worse according to the flower delivery service is that the days are dark and cold but it is very close to Christmas, which means people are busy with pre-Christmas parties and you get combined presents usually wrapped in Christmas paper.
Although i agree that it’s bad to have a birthday that close to Christmas, they don't expand on why 16 December is worse than the 8 days this side of December 25th which are even closer i'm going to stick with my original dates as being worse and be thankful that my birthday usually coincides with Easter and i get double the amount of Chocolate Eggs in that period.
So if it is your birthday today then Happy birthday and if you are really, really careful, you can use the Christmas wrapping paper that your Birthday present came in to send back to the person who couldn't be arsed to find proper Birthday paper for you.

Saturday, 15 December 2018

Twas The Night Before Christmas In The White House

Twas the night before Christmas, in the Presidents House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The nation was trying to keep warm but in vain,
'Cause global warming had bought in the snow once again,
Melania in her ‘kerchief, and Don in his cap,
They settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.

When on the White House lawn there arose such a clatter,
Donald sprang from the bed to see what was the matter,
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
He looked more closer and said 'That's not St Nick'.

Hello Mr President, my names Abraham Lincoln,
And i've come to complain about what you've been thinkin',
The trickle down system you persist with is screwed,
American's can't warm up their houses or pay for their food.

You lie and disgraced these once wonderful lands,
You have sex with porn stars and have wandering hands,
Treaty withdrawals and sanctions announced,
All round the World you are being denounced.

You screwed up my country he said shaking his fist,
And leant through the window and gave Don's nipples a twist,
Then he drew back his fist and punched him hard in the belly,
That shook when he walked, like a bowlful of jelly!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Took all of Trump's presents and called him a jerk,
Pausing to stick a finger up the Presidents nose,
He gave a brief nod and up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
Your record is wiped Trump, your numbers not listed
A present to the World, it's as if you never existed

As the World all cheered as he drove out of sight,
He said now it's Happy Christmas for all, this has been a good night!"

Friday, 14 December 2018

Quality Street: A Christmas Tradition

There may be 10 days to go but already the majority of the Cadbury’s tree decorations have been eaten and as the kids have developed a sneaky ploy of eating the chocolates off the tree but somehow leaving the wrapping on as if they hadn't been touched, i guess there are even less than i expect but at least the Quality Street tin remains unopened.
When i was a child the Quality Street tin would sit beneath the tree from early December but we were not allowed to touch or rattle it and certainly couldn't prise open the lid of the metal tin and make off with a Strawberry Delight or a Hazelnut Caramel but apart from bringing down our mother's wrath upon mine and my brothers heads, it was sealed with sticky tape.
The tin was religiously opened on Christmas Eve, usually when us kids were not around so when we finally got to the tin, all the purple and soft centred ones had been snaffled by my father to leave us wading through the Toffee Fingers and Toffee Pennies to find what decent ones were left for us.
As i'm now a grown up and Tesco sell 3 tins for £10, i don't inflict this pain on my own children, i throw open a tin and invite everyone to dip in although i have no answer to why almost every tin we have very few of the Strawberry and Purple sweets.
I just shrug at the mystery and make sure i don't leave the empty wrappers hanging around where they can see them.

Wednesday, 12 December 2018

Careful What You Wish For In Removing May

The Conservative Party's Christmas booze up in the brewery has been cancelled this year as Theresa May was unable to organise it and if things play out the right way we could be seeing her repeating the last female Prime Minister who was also removed by her own Party members.
After the 1922 Committee announced that they had received the requisite 48 letters from Conservative Members this morning, the prime minister iss now facing a vote of confidence and Theresa May's must convince 158 of her own MPs to stick with her at the vote this evening if she intends on clinging to power.
She had tried to avoid the showdown by pulling the Meaningful Vote on her Brexit deal yesterday but that just seems to have angered the few remaining letter holding MPs and her Wednesday evening has now taken on a very different angle.
If she wins then MPs cannot call another vote for 12 months and she will claim victory, demand the party fall in behind her and try to press on with her Brexit plan, emboldened but if she loses, May is handed her P45 and Britain will have a new prime minister in the new year, likely a Brexiteer like Dominic Raab or scarily Boris Johnson.
The other option is Mrs May wins, but only by a few votes which might persuade her to think twice about whether she has enough backing in Parliament, and lead her to resigning resulting in a leadership contest.
The frightening part is if May is toppled, whoever replaced her, and in all probability it would be a Brexiteer, they would go for a harder Brexit so even if we think Theresa May is incompetent, we should be hoping Tory MPs decisively reject this vote of no confidence because looking at who could replace her things could get very much worse for all of us, Theresa May is the best of a really terrible lot.

Sorry Northerners But I Want A White Christmas

Living on the UK's South Coast we don't really get much snow down here but that doesn't stop us from watching the weather forecasts with fruitless anticipation that we may finally get a White Christmas. 
Of course we won't, i have never seen one, but my more northern relatives have and they don't like it because while i see a winter wonderland, with the snow turning everything at once innocent yet mysterious, rendering even the mundane magical, they see two hours to make the 15-minute journey into work, schools closing and having to channel the spirit of Sherpa Tenzing to get to the shops and then when you get back your water pipes have frozen.
They have a point because the worst i have to put up with is the chuntering of morons about how the snow means global warming must all be a myth.
It's the flip side of summer when the northerners are moaning about the lack of summer while us southerners are setting up a chair in front of the freezer and slapping on the factor 30 so our sunburn doesn't get even more redder.
I say to my fellow countrymen further up the country lag your water pipes and stock up the freezer because us down here are fully on board with let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Sunday, 9 December 2018

Missing The Original Emoticons

Strangely i never got involved in the original emoticon thing but now that we have proper smileys instead on our text and email messages, i kind of miss them. :-(
I never appreciated just how clever making faces out of the punctuation keys on the keyboard was to show how cheerful :-) or sad :-( or surprised :-0 or angry >:( or confused :-/ or cheeky ;-) the sender was.
My phone automatically changes any emoticon to a proper smiley face when i try it now but that's our changing times and i could weep for kids that never knew what once passed for text based fun. That's :'-(
As the younger generation doesn't seem to know how to punctuate anything, they at least have something to do with all those redundant buttons on the keyboard so as the original text based emoticon is now dead, i'd better send some flowers, or  @-->-->- @-->-->-

Saturday, 8 December 2018

It's The Most Wonderful Time For An Affair

Work Christmas parties aren’t just great for office gossip and actually speaking to the people you work with but they are also ripe breeding grounds for all kinds of naughtiness.
Christmas parties are very often where people embark on affairs or have one-off smooches with people who aren’t their partners according to Marriage Guidance Counsellors who report an increase in affairs over the Christmas party period between  3 December and New Years Eve.
A reported 68% of affairs are with a work colleague which started at the office party after they had got drunk and things had gone too far but while 22% are one off flings, 46% continued seeing their colleague romantically after Christmas.
A Marriage Guidance Counsellor advised that sexual tensions which may have been bubbling up over the course of the working year finally explode due to drink and because it’s a rare occasion that their partner isn’t there to see them behaving badly.
In a time when almost everybody has a phone with a camera i wouldn't bet on partners not seeing them behaving badly and an office affairs can be more than just a bad relationship move but can be a catastrophic career move also and in the worst case scenario, both with some legal issues thrown in so i say if you are in a relationship but find yourself looking amorously at spotty Tim from IT at the Xmas Party, put down the eggnog and call a cab.

Friday, 7 December 2018

The Squiffy Farting Wiener

Psychology tells us that the way to make people like us is to make them laugh as laughter releases endorphins, which make them feel good about ourselves and if you make people feel good about themselves, they will like the person who triggered their laughter.
The problem is how to make people laugh but Psychology also tells us that so by the end of this post you will be armed with a ready made way to be the most liked person ever.
The Journal of Experimental Psychology says that all you have to do is use words that are universally funny so if you can sprinkle around fart, booty, tinkle, bunghole and wiener then you got it made and make more space on your wall for Christmas Cards from all your new friends.
The University of Alberta have published a paper analysing an existing list of 4997 funny words and whittling down the collection to the words people found funniest which included upchuck, bubby, boff, puking, fuzz, squiffy, pubes, nude and boobs.
If you can make up a story about the time you were so squiffy that you went for a tinkle but ended up puking on your friends boobs which made her laugh so much she did a massive fart and then upchucked herself, can't see where you can go wrong.

Kudos To Parent Of Bully

Bullying is a real problem amongst schoolchildren so credit to the man in Ohio who made his daughter walk five miles to school to punish her for bullying, the second time that she had been suspended from school for it.
'Bullying is unacceptable. This is my small way of trying to stop it in my household. I am doing what I feel is right to teach my daughter a lesson and to stop her from bullying' the father is heard to say in the video where he drove behind her as she trudged along the road.
If only more parents would hold their children responsible for their actions but sadly many don't and anyone who has had to deal with consequences of bullying will know how devastating it can be to a young mind.
I say well done to the parent for taking action and i expect the parents of the children that were bullied by his daughter thank him also but you can only hope that the girl has learnt a very important early life lesson that her actions have consequences.

Eating Yourself Drunk On Christmas Food

I never write drunk as my typing goes out the window so i always wait until i type that final full stop before i start necking the Sloe Gin but there is a piece of kitchen folklore that you could eat yourself drunk especially at Christmas as so much of the festive food is soaked in alcohol.
There are stories of people failing breathalyser tests whilst driving due to the food they have eaten but there are no guidelines to just how many mince pies or servings of Christmas pudding we can have and still drive safely.
The average mince pie apparently contains 0.14 units of alcohol, meaning it would take 29 of them to reach the 80mg of alcohol per 100 ml of blood and fail the drunk test.
Christmas cake is laced with brandy and three slices is enough to get a nice buzz going so after cake we have Christmas pudding which is traditionally also full of brandy so two of them and if you are stopped by a policeman you had better be good at touching your nose and walking in a straight line while over the limit.  
Three portions of Tiramisu contain enough alcohol to get you seeing the inside of a Police cell if you try to drive as will one family sized sherry trifle or five Marks & Spencer individual luxury sherry trifles.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Sloe Gin is calling my name.

Thursday, 6 December 2018

Pete Shelley

Sad news that Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks has died at the age of 63 from a heart attack.
Buzzcocks were one of the more tuneful bands of the punk era and trod that well worn path of if it ain't broke don't fix it and although they never got a song in the UK Top 10, they are part of punk royalty.
Like a lot of bands, they hit upon a style and sound early on and kept with it on a succession of the rapid-fire punk songs that would become classics even if they were not quite so appreciated at the time with Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've) probably their best known song.  
The only consolation when a musical giant dies is that their songs will be all over the TV and radio for the next few weeks but The Buzzcocks will be written into musical history from the punk era along with The Sex Pistols and The Damned which is a tribute as when Shelley founded the Buzzcocks, they were the bands he wanted to emulate

Bush Trolling Trump At His Own Funeral

Elsa would have been proud at the frosty reception the Trumps and the Clintons gave each other at the funeral of George Bush Senior who was a well known critic of the current President and listening to the service, Trump must have wondered if the elder Bush was getting the last laugh on him.
One speech referred to that during Bush's time in office a wall fell in Berlin and doors across America opened to those with disabilities which could be taken as a stand against Trumps Mexican wall and his cruel mocking of the disabled.
Another referred to Bush's code being to always tell the truth while another praised his strong environmental legislation, including the Clean Air Act and that when George Bush was President every single head of government in the world knew that they were dealing with a gentleman. Ouch said the current President who is a climate change denier and removed the US from the Paris agreement.
Then there was a line about those who travel the high road are not bothered by heavy traffic which had to be a dig at Trump missing a WW1 service in Paris due to rain and traffic congestion but the clincher for me that the whole service was one long laugh at the current man in the White House was the line that President Bush had big strong hands, which had to be aimed at the famously small handed Trump.
However, not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, they probably all went over Trump's orange head.

Facepalm For PETA

PETA does some great work but wow can they make themselves look like idiots as well. 
The latest campaign is to remove 'speciesism from the conversations in order to promote social justice' and give examples of this language including to replace 'kill two birds with one stone' with 'Feed two birds with one scone' and 'Beat a dead horse' with 'Feed a fed horse'.
If that isn't silly enough, they then compared 'speciesism' to racist or homophobic language saying: 'Just as it became unacceptable to use racist, homophobic, or ableist language, phrases that trivialise cruelty to animals will vanish as more people begin to appreciate animals for who they are'.
No facepalm would be hard enough but people won't start saying 'Bringing home the bagels' instead of bacon and 'take a flower by the thorns' instead of a bull by the horns but i guess people are talking about it so maybe whatever genius at PETA who came up with it has done their job. 
I support PETA in most things but campaigns like this just make them a laughing stock, far better they stick to throwing flour over fur wearers and sabotaging hunts which is their forte.

Brexit No Longer Meaning Brexit

Two days after the BBC dropped plans to have a Brexit debate between Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn, ITV have now said they don't want to hold it either but it was an awful idea anyway.
May and Corbyn both campaigned for Remain in the Brexit debate so it would have been two people who didn't want Brexit in the first place debating to a public audience who can't vote on it anyway so all seemed rather pointless.
The whole 'leaving the EU' has got even more messier than it already was if that is possible with Theresa May plowing towards inevitable defeat next Tuesday and if the defeat is heavy enough, her removal from office but then maybe that is her plan.
When, not if, she is defeated their will be a vote of no confidence and depending if it comes from the her own Party or Labour, she will face a leadership contest or a general election and either of which will mean the March 29 deadline will slip and Brexit will be postponed.
I have always thought it wouldn't happen due to the economic suicide they would be leading us to and nothing has happened to change my mind that Brexit is not only a terrible idea but all our politico's know it and will do the best they can to not go ahead with it while saying the exact opposite and pinning their hopes on a second referendum which will stop the madness.

Tuesday, 4 December 2018

Towel Head

I always had to be even more careful than usual not to make any spills in December because there would be a distinct lack of tea towels in our home due to Christmas.
More than once when my children were younger i had gone on a pointless search for a tea-towel to clean up a knocked over bottle of Fanta only to find they have once again  been spirited away onto the heads of wise men and shepherds at my sons schoool nativity play.
Sainsbury's say they generally sell 4,000 tea towels a week during the year but in December, sales go up to 12,000 a week and the additional 8,000 are not drying the plates of last nights dinner but being used as suitable headdress for those who wash their socks by night all seated on the ground.
Some parents though are not prepared to throw a Sainsbury's tea towel over their child's head as they sit on those too small plastic chair waiting to see if their offspring is going to be the one who forgets their line, and spend money on making sure that their kid is the best dressed one when he stands up and mumbles something about a star before sitting down again beside the kid dressed as a sheep.
It's about the only time in your life that wearing a tea-towel on your head to represent someone from the Middle East is acceptable because some colleagues of Middle Eastern descent may find it disrespectful if you turned up to work wearing it.

Deep Breath And Calming Thoughts

Us Brits are a cool, calm and composed race or at least for the first 8 minutes and 22 seconds we are anyway because that is the amount of time we wait in line before we lose our temper.
A Talk Talk survey found that the 'point of impatience' for a website to load is 3 minutes and 38 seconds before we give up while we will hang up on a phone call if we are waiting longer than 5 minutes and 4 seconds.
It's 8 minutes 38 seconds if you're waiting to be served in a restaurant, 10 minutes 1 second if you're waiting for friends to show up, 10 minutes 43 seconds if you're staying in for a tradesman, and 13 minutes 16 seconds if you're waiting for a reply to a text.
The survey also found that while the over-45s will cancel a service, put down the phone or walk out, the under the under-45's are five times more likely to do something physical such as start shouting, abuse an employee or throw something across the room.
A Talk Talk spokesman concluded that: 'The speed of the online world is making us less prepared to wait for things to happen in the offline world' which may be true but i always found my point of temper came within 10 seconds of seeing Piers Morgan on the TV when i will generally throw whatever comes to hand at the TV and shout abuse at the annoying gimboid.

Sunday, 2 December 2018

The Demise Of Mistletoe

The first of December is traditionally putting up the decorations day so yesterday was spent untangling fairy lights, looking for the blutac and generally swapping the normal ornaments for Christmassy ones. 
It was while drinking hot chocolate from my Frosty the Snowman mug and wondering just how heat resistant the temporary Santa lampshade was that my husband suggested we were missing mistletoe.
Making a mental note not to get any mistletoe, i forgot about the potentially flammable lampshade and instead wondered if anybody has mistletoe anymore these days.
The tradition says that any woman standing under mistletoe can be kissed and will be dogged by bad luck if she refuses which sort of answers my own question of why mistletoe has fallen out of fashion, that's a court case just waiting to happen, but i can't remember the last time i saw it in anybodies house.
A quick Google brings up a report from Morrisons which shows that while 62% of over-55s have been kissed under the mistletoe at Christmas, 75% of people under 35 have not.
Some people may see it as a sad decline of another tradition due to the current climate of pervy old men preying on younger ladies but it's probably right that it should die out altogether and be consigned to history along with wassailing whatever that is but nobody seems to do it anymore.

Nativity Scene: Aussie Style

I have never read the Bible, it does go on a bit apparently, so the Australians have come up with their own version which cuts out the boring parts and concentrates on the important stuff.
Probably the most important bit, especially at this time of year, is the Nativity though the idea that taking the book and throwing bits of it down the dunny hasn't gone down well with the Churchy type drongo's who like the boring bits.  
So written in 'Strine, the Nativity in the Australian Bible is as follows:

'So Joe hiked up from Nazareth to Bethlehem because this spot in the mulga was where King David came from, and Joe's family tree had King David up in the top branches.
He went there to fill in the forms and sign the register with his fiance, Mary, who was a special sheila and pretty near nine months by this time.
While they were there, she gave birth to a baby boy. She wrapped him in a bunny rug, and tucked him up in a feed trough in a back shed, because the pub was full to bursting.
Three eggheads from out east followed a star to find the baby Jesus and announce their arrival with: 'G’day, Your Majesty!'

Almost brilliant enough to forgive them for Prisoner Cell Block H and Rolf Harris, almost.