Boadicea's Chariot

No one is listening until you fart.

Goodnight everyone, sleep well.

As the clock struck 11am, the nation paused to silently mark the anniversary of Armistice Day, when peace returned to Europe at the end of the First World War.
But in London the solemn moment was marred by a small group of protesters calling themselves Muslims Against Crusades, who burned a model of a poppy and chanted “British soldiers burn in hell”.
They held banners which read “Islam will dominate” and “Our dead are in paradise, your dead are in hell”.

http://news.sky.com/skynews/Article/201011115799794

The proposed benefit reforms put me in mind of a doomed ship heading for the rocks, on the bridge the wheel is spinning, intercoms are buzzing, levers are being pulled, but the bridge is disconnected from the rest of the ship. If, as I understand, the Government is placing its faith in the existing staff of employment offices to exercise their judgement as to whom should lose out: forget it. Little Miss Molly is never going to take responsibility for stopping Bert Gutbusting’s benefit, not in a month of Sundays. Little Miss Molly may be prepared to face Bert’s anger, and that of his kinfolk, despite living in the same town, but is she able to swim against the long established culture of the service?

To have a prayer of making the scheme work, the Government has to change the culture of the employment service at the coalface and, even then, it will be necessary to employ hard-nosed specialists to confront Bert and sort him out.

A second problem lies in the notion that benefits will be threatened for those who refuse job offers. Who thought that one up? Over forty years ago I was recruiting workers for a Manchester manufacturing company. We had restructured the shift system and needed a number of workers. I still remember the bloke who made not the slightest pretence of wanting a job. “Just sign the form, will you boss? That shows I’ve attended.” I signed because we clearly didn’t want him near the factory, but I telephoned the employment office to report him. I know not what action they took, if any. Other less bold souls took the job, but their employment did not last more than a few weeks. It is not the employer’s role to keep deadbeats off the street, or to act as a policeman for the service.

Finally, I wonder whose nerve will break first when Bert’s kids are found begging in the street.

There is a medical distinction between Guts and Balls.
We’ve all heard about people having Guts or Balls.
But do you really know the difference between them?

In an effort to keep you informed, here are the definitions:

GUTS – Is arriving home late after a night out with the boys,
being met by your wife with a broom, and having the Guts to
ask: ‘Are you still cleaning, or are you flying somewhere?’

BALLS – Is coming home late after a night out with the guys,
smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping
your wife on the butt and having the Balls to say: ‘You’re next,
Chubby.’

I hope this clears up any confusion on the definitions.

Medically, speaking there is No difference in the outcome.
Both result in death.

In view of yesterdays outbreak of violence at the Millbank HQ of the Conservative party has anyone considered the coincidence of a Government telling the police that they must cut manpower and then having their HQ trashed by a student demo because there were not enough police on duty to stop it?

What better way to bring it home to those in power, ‘sorry guv, we just did not have enough officers to prevent it, by the way, how are the propsed cuts in the police force progressing minister’?

The commissioner has announced an enquiry and a few officers may twist in the wind for a bit but seeing as the police usually turn out in force when a few pensioners threaten a shuffle in, it seems to strain incredulity to suggest that this was ‘just a bit of a cock up’. I bet Cameron et al are hastily reviewing the plan to cut the fuzz.

These are classified ads, which were actually placed in a U.K. newspaper:

FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER.
8 years old.
Hateful little bastard.
Bites!

FREE PUPPIES
1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbour’s dog.

FREE PUPPIES.
Mother, a Kennel Club registered German Shepherd.
Father, Super Dog… able to leap tall fences in a single bound.

COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.
Also 1 gay bull for sale.

JOINING NUDIST COLONY!
Must sell washer and dryer £100.

WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE.
Worn once by mistake.
Call Stephanie.

*** And the WINNER is… ***

Complete set of Encyclopaedia Britannica, 45 volumes.
Excellent condition…..£200 or best offer.
No longer needed.
Got married last month, wife knows everything.

Chopin – Nocturne in E.

Looking at Boadicea’s poppies and thinking of Remembrance Day tomorrow made me realise that our hasty trip to France last month took us past many a signpost with names from both the First and Second World Wars.

Sliding down the eastern side of France, so we could easily reach a frontier if the fuel situation got too bad because of all the strikes, we saw both the Angel of Vimy and the basilica of Notre Dame de Loretto, the largest French war cemetery, from the motorway. Our route then took us across the rivers and departments forever associated with dreadful loss of life, the Somme and the Marne.

The return journey started with a view of Mont Agel overlooking the Mediterranean, the last French fortress in the Maginot Line. The big guns there managed to take out the station at Ventimiglia, slightly holding up the Italian invasion of the south of France in the Second World War. A motorway sign to Vesoul in the Franche-Comte reminded me it was one of the first French towns to be bombarded by the Germans in 1940, driving thousands of refugees on to the roads. Past Nancy and Metz into Luxembourg, where fuel was not only plentiful but cheap. Then into the Belgian Ardennes, with the beautiful forests,too good at concealing Panzer divisions. Signposts to Bastogne. Farther north came the signs for Ypres/Ieper, back to memorials of the First War.

Tomorrow is a public holiday in France and wreaths will be laid at countless war cemeteries and at war memorials in every town and village.

We shall remember them.

There are two excellent theories for arguing with women. Neither one works.

Goodnight everyone, sleep well.

When I heard this morning of another attack on Christians in Iraq, victims of the first attack have been brought to France with their relatives, I could not help wondering if these outrages would have happened under Saddam. I think not. He was a brutal dictator, but he kept the lid on this kind of thing. Will these Christians now say a prayer of thanks to Messrs Bush and Blair?