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Everything posted by bobby47

  1. Isn’t it all a pile, mound or hillock of steaming boll.ocks! Nothing functions anymore. It ought to but it doesn’t because it’s all been buggered up by the ‘suits’ who’s ability to string together a few words that mean absolutely nothing but read as though there’s some thought behind it all, are transmitted out to us telling us that everything is fine when it bloody isn’t! Nothing happens TwoWheels? Course it doesn’t. It’s not designed for anything to happen. That’s the whole point of this deranged dysfunctional arrangement between us and them. The Bastar.ds turned up outside my humble hovel with an intention to dig a hole in the road. First up, a company with ‘signage’ that’d be used to inform us not to fall in the hole that was about to be dug. Then another company tipped up and dug the holes. There were no more than three of them! Then another firm tipped up and did something within these holes that to thus day remain an unknown to me. it goes bloody on! Then another firm tipped up with wagons who tipped a load of gravel into the holes. Then another company arrived and filled the holes with soil. It goes bloody on! After the soil was deposited, another firm tipped up, belted the soil and the gravel flat and then fu.vk.ed off. Then, just after the bloody monsoon when me and everyone else got splattered in mud, another firm, bloody tarmacers, tipped up and repaired the surfaces. It goes on! Another firm tipped up to remove the signage signs that had happily warned me not to fall down the holes. Sadly thus crew, from the sixth independent company didn’t remove the signs because their van wasn’t designed or adapted to gather up all the bloody signs. Next day, another company tipped up and collected the signs. Youd think it’d end there. Well it bloody didn’t. In the days that followed I recieved one posted letter, one text message and a phone call telling me that they were sorry about the delay and as soon as the huge backlog of work was completed, all funded by the public ratepayer, would begin soon, explaining that they’d dig a hole and out right something I’ve still no idea about. At least seven different firms were involved in this who collectively deployed about 27 lads, 11 vehicles and an unknown number of staff who wrote to me, text me and phoned me regarding a job that was overseen by a private limited company known as Balfour Beatie who, incidentally only played one role. Collecting the bas.tard signs that warned me and many others not to fall down the hole! Litter! It no longer bloody matters. We’ve gone way past the tipping point of it ever bloody mattering reaching a point in my time that begs the question,’ why do any of us bother asking why everything is all buggered up’?
  2. The final stage of Britain’s farcical attempt to extricate itself from this totalitarian centrist neo communist regime the EU, that’s intentionally designed to create vast wealth for some one hundred global multi billionaires by using cheap migrant labour that’s subsidised by us the worker ants is about to be finally played out. Within a few months our parliamentarians will commit the British people to a second referendum thus enabling the people to correct their stupidity and their mistake in asking to leave the EU. The parliamentarians will finally drop all pretence of honouring the will of the people and with some underhand cross party collaboration they’ll get what they always wanted and secure Britain to the Union. And this referendum will not be like our first one. It’ll be very different. It won’t be Leave or Remain. This original democratic mistake that the ruling elite made trusting us to vote for Remain will not be repeated for a second time. The options on the ballot paper will be cleverly designed to make sure we vote to choose between a raft of questions that are worded in such a way that they confuse, bewilder and make one wonder why on earth we ever bothered in the first place. Three things will ensure we correct our mistake. One, the turn out will be far lower than the original 72%. Many like me will not bother because it’s all been a waste of time and are cognisant that Leave was, is and never will be an option that our rulers can accept. Two, the actual choice of confusing options on the ballot paper and finally, Three. Now the UN and the EU have committed themselves to the issue of Regular Migration and Irregular Migration that’ll make it European and International Law that stipulates anyone and everyone can move from Continent to Continent unchecked because of their Human Right, the issue of Free Movement Of People, which let’s face it was the driving force to vote Leave, will soon become an irrelevance. In short, no matter what you may think about the free movement of people, you’re getting it anyway whether you like it or not! And, more frightening, if the legislators across Europe are successful, and theyre are discussing it, it’ll become a criminal offence to ever question it because it’ll be the next Hate Crime, thus ensuring that the globalisation wealth creation machine continues unabated. The consequences for this betrayal? The ruling elite won’t care that National election voter turnouts shoot downwards. Should General Election results become unpopular with the people and there’s widespread protest against the result and outcome. They won’t care about that either. And should civil disorder become commonplace and the people begin a programme of violent disorder. Well that’s easy. Nothing to do with them. It’ll be the result of Populist Far Right Neo Facist Racist thugs who’ve never understood how lucky they were to be born to a democratic Country such as Britain.
  3. Isn’t it pleasing to see little Manny the pompous French poodle stuck in the eye of a storm of protests sweeping across France. Once again the people were fooled into voting for a man who looked nice, said very little, promised much, delivered nothing and presented himself to the world as a man of great inner wisdom and a face you could trust. When I glance at his little snide face I see the Great Liar himself. Tony Blair. The same far away holier than thou eyes and that messianic look that pleads ‘trust me’! The only difference between the pair is one is a wannabe, the other a worn out has been and the younger of the two would drape a string of onions around his scrawny neck if it meant he’d win your vote. And this is the man who would be king of Europe. A man who’ll happily strangle the life out of Britain, build an EU Army that’d be the ruin of Europe and steeped in the shameful French military ideology of defend, retreat, retreat again, desert, capitulate and then collaborate with their conquerer. As Merkle’s loyal poodle lap dog and a man so desperate to be listened to he’ll shamelessly rub Donald Trumps left bloody leg to win favour rather than face his reality that is ‘the French people can now see through him’. I recall his interview with Andrew Marr where he called the British stupid for voting to leave the Union. When pressed by Marr, Macron stated that he wouldn’t ever give the French a referendum on the EU because they may vote like the British and want to leave the EU. If ever a western leader has demonstrated the contempt that he and his ilk have for people and democracy, it’s this pompous French President who sneers at anyone who demonstrates a pride in their Country and holds patriotic views that he and the EU Commision wish to crush. As for the French Yellow Vest protests, very soon Macron, the EU and other Western leaders will mobilise the media, the people will be branded populist and like thousands of peaceful marchers who recently gathered in Poland to happily celebrate their nations independence, images on your television and your newspaper will convince you that sixty thousand marchers were neo nazis fascist Far right populist extremists who were a threat to western democracy. That’s exactly what will happen to these French people who’ve taken to the streets to protest against Macron and the political establishment. Thereafter, once the dust settles, order will be restored, the people will give up the will to carry on and come the next presidential election they’ll vote to return Macron and Bridget to the Eleyse Palace and do exactly what they’re supposed to do. Conform and obey!
  4. I’m now into my sixth day of a Hunger Strike. As I write this I’m experiencing feelings of disorientation, dizziness, I’m bloody hungry and my abdominal muscles are repeatedly cramping up and signalling to my addled brain that I need to eat before it’s to late. Why have I done this? Because Hereford Football Clubs Board decided to dismiss Peter Beadle. Not only that, his replacements, two of them, and a raft of others support staff, who’s antecedent history appears to be unblemished by any measureable football achievements, seem intent on following a unique and radical football philosophy that’s built upon a belief that we don’t need to score a goal. And the Chairman knows of my act of self sacrifice. Initially I told him that I was going to take my seat in the Merton Stand and engage in a Dirty Protest by covering myself in my own human excrement. His words to me, and I quote, ‘ not a chance you dirty bastard. The Stewards will not allow you into the ground’. Undeterred, I told the Chairman, ‘right then, you awkward sod, from hereon I’m on Hunger Strike and until such times as you lot reinstate Peter and rid our Club of the current management not one morsel of life giving nourishing food will be spooned into my fat face’. This cruel and insensitive power crazed Chairman then sent me packing telling me, ‘starve fatso. By the looks of your gut it’ll take twelve months before you meet your headstone.’ And so, here I am, barely able to walk, unable to climb the steps to take my seat in E Block and more determined than ever to carry out my Hunger Strike. And let’s be clear shall we. If I die of starvation, and God knows it’s bloody likely, my passing will be down to two people. The Chairman of my club and my wife who disappointingly seems overly enthusiastic in her steadfast encouragement that I starve to death. And I won’t crack! I know what I’ll have, what I won’t have and what I might be forced to have if they hook me up to a drip to prolong my suffering and I ain’t having this. I demand the Board meet my demands and until such times as they realise what and who they are up against I’ll continue to starve to death unless Peter is reinstated. What can any of you do to support my quest? Well don’t send me any food packages for starters. My wife won’t give it to me and I’ll be damned if I eat it. If any of you have little or no desire to watch me wither away into a skeletal state and you want Peter Beadle back then tell the lads on the Meadow End who’ll surely support my cause. If you can, Get on Twitter # bobby47 must eat or # Save the Merton 1 &Sack the Board. And that’s it. My mind is set and there’s no going back. And should I die, my headstone will read, ‘Christ I was hungry’.
  5. The politics that exist throughout France, Germany and much of Western Europe today are no different to those that brought chaos and misery to the world during the first four decades of the twentieth century. Despite our history and the knowledge we’ve all acquired from past European meddling and expansionistic policies, still we continue to not see the EU for what it is. A force for bad which I’m convinced will bring us war. Our good friend Martin references Neville Chamberlain and his ‘peace in our time’ bit of paper that he waved about after his final act of appeasement with the Germans. It’s really not such a far fetched comparison. In my view it’s very apt considering how Britain has been treated by our so called allies. And these continental European politicians, particularly those of a French pursuassion are not our friends. They’re most definitely not our friends. They are our ideological enemies. Frankly, given this latest political twist which was highly predictable as the whole thing fragments and falls apart, it seems as though the politics of fear, the very same ones that convinced Germany to wage war, are very much alive and well within Europe today. Who’d have thought that today, an Age of so called Enlightenment, the people of Britain could be manipulated and made to be frightened by a political class who were not happy with our democratic vote to leave the Union. The politics of fear. It worked for Joseph Goebells and it’s worked for all the political and social forces that decided we voted the wrong way. For us in Britain, we’ve swallowed the fears, the threats and the predictions of plague and petulance, and in the coming months we, like the French in battle, will capitulate and give the establishment and the ruling elite exactly what they wanted in the first place. To remain a component part in a neo communist federalised collection of insignificant nations who’ve been stripped of their sovereignty and ruled by unelected mandarins who slavishly follow the doctrine that ain’t to far away from that of Hitler and Stalin. Whilst I’m pretty certain we’ve passed the tipping point and are now doomed to be ruled by Brussels, there is a little ray of hope. Once we are buggered and the EU Commusion is convinced we are buggered, they’ll set their sights on the troublesome Visegrad Four and begin a long drawn out series of punishments that’ll be targeted at the Polish and Hungarian people. These punitive punishments, and the EU will carry out an attack upon the Poles and Hungarians, will be harsh and aimed at destroying their patriotic view of themselves. The EU Commision will fail. These people have witnessed and suffered at first hand decades of cruelty by the Germans and the Soviets and setting themselves up against the EU will not frighten these people. Frankly, these people’s have heard it and seen it all before and they will not bow to Brussels. if there is any hope for us, it’s to be found in future confrontations between Brussels and other member states. Perhaps then, when everyone is buggered, and we all realise we’re buggered, we’ll all begin to see signs that our captivity is at an end and this bastard devilish vessel, the bad ship EU begins to sink downwards toward the bowels of hell.
  6. Whilst I’m a High Town man and have always been a High Town man and unless something really bad happens, like me getting flattened by a thirty tonne truck, I will always be a High Town man because I believe being a High Town man is essentially a good thing rather than a bad thing, i reckon that most High Town folk have held an inner belief that being a High Town man, or woman, both sexes are equally capable of showing loyalty to High Town, have long since become convinced that this closure can be a force for good for High Town. What we are talking about here is the past promotion of sin. Yes! Sin. Good High Town men, but more often than not bad promiscuous High Town women, who I reckon have been the main patrons to this High Town shop, have been popping inside the place browsing around, trying out this, that and the other, and after hours of decadent thoughts have emerged with their purchases fundamentally changed, charged and violently intent upon personal sexual gratification. Thats right! Sin and the promotion of it. We are talking here about erring and if there’s one thing worse than sin, as far as I’m concerned, it’s the erring that leads to the sin. If there’s no errers, then there’s no erring and if there’s no erring then you have no sin. It’s simple! High Town will be a lot better off once this den of vipers closes its door for the final time. Perhaps then, good decent honest men. Good High Town men like me can straddle the Hereford Bull or simply be slumped on a High Town bench, because we’ve supped fourteen pints of ale and are unable to stand upright, will no longer have to endure High Town women, who’ve emerged from that shop of sin, begging us to deliver to them our manly love. I for one am glad this shop has closed. Perhaps now we can all get back to a place where there was no need for this, that and the other that required long life batteries and instead return to the days of kissing, clumsy foreplay and a hope that during the act of lovemaking we didn’t die of a heart attack brought on by clogged up arteries whilst writhing around in the good old fashioned High Town missionary position we once used before bloody Summers decided to spice up our High Town lives.
  7. bobby47


    Extremely disappointed! Not as bloody disappointed as me. As if it’s a bloody surprise! There’s nothing bloody surprising about these latest losses, which incidentally, fall into our laps. Bloody Hoople and the bloody Council! If it’d been down to me I’d have grabbed it a birth, filled the bath tub with water, throttled the thing and drowned the screaming horror howling, ‘ take your last breath you unholy creation. Drown you bas.tar.d’! Bloody Hell! Me bloody eczema has flared up because of this little slice of pleasure! I mean, why on earth are Hoople now doing the wages for Hereford independent businesses. It makes no sense. Either through design or bloody accident their areas of interest have crept into areas of life in the County that have absolutely nothing to do with anything and other than trying to keep themselves bloody busy, I can’t see any reason why Hoople have been allowed to continue. And yet, despite the losses and despite there being no point in continuing the haemorrhaging of our bloody money, still the bas.tar.d thing keeps on rolling. I bloody despair! God help us!
  8. I remember this. It was sickening! On the day after the transmission I was on duty at Samaritans where I took five calls. All five committed suicide. Whilst two of my callers had inadvertently dialled the wrong number and then decided to kill themselves, the three who had intentionally dialed Samaritans and then killed themselves, were deeply distressed by the film footage transmitted to good Herefordians who generally speaking were minding their own business diligently recycling their rubbish. As for the Compromise Agreements between the Clergy and you, I was one of the few who wasn’t armed with a big pointy stick to beat you with who, during an open forum was brave enough to argue you shouldn’t be paid a single penny for displaying your scr.ot.um from your elevated position and I still, to this day, maintain that the contents of that weeks Offertory Box should have been given to the meek, the mild and the downright stupid who regularly bet upon uncertain outcomes, rather than line the pocket of your shamed and loose fitting cassock.
  9. The more I see and the more I read about our once wonderful British Police Service, the more I begin to understand the impact the new breed of leaders have had upon the Service and the public they serve. In the nineties society gave them and their ilk a foothold on the promotion ladder. Discarding common sense and an ability to be a thief taker, and instead concentrating upon academia and their degrees, these operationally lightweight blue sky thinkers have now got a stranglehold on the Service and worse, they now promote like minded souls who've infested every tier of the Police Service. It's a relentless chain of unforeseen circumstances that amount to a total f.u.ck up! Consequently, because of them and their so called steategic view of British societies, we've not only got Policing at a distance that impacts upon us all, we've now got idiotic badly thought out and composed ideas such as this Partnership thats cost us all an arm and a leg. Whoever thought this Partnership with a bankrupt Warwickshire Constabulary was a good idea? All it's done is divert West Mercia wealth into Warwickshire and fix the fiscal holes in their bloody boat. Our money has saved them! One only has to review the recent terrorist attack in Westminster that saw Sir Craig Mackey, following to the letter the advice of the Association Of Chief Police Officers to the public that when faced with a terrorist attack, they should do as he did and 'Run Hide &Tell' and it's very evident just how far away and detached the Police have become to their communities. Instead of getting out of his car and fighting back or using his car to crush the evil bars.tard, dear Sir Craig, a coward n the eyes of many, drove off to the comfort of his distant policing command office. Run, Hide and Tell, will get you killed! Worse! Some other poor sod will die in your place. You don't Run, Hide And Tell. You gather your thoughts, control your adrenalin, manage your fears, you wrap some garments around your forearms and not unlike a football hooligan you go on the attack and fight back. That's what you do! Don't behave like Sir Craig Mackey and all the others in the Police Service who've been trained to evade injury or harm at any cost. Ignore these idiots! These idiots who choose to tell us all to, 'Run, Hide & Tell', are the very same incompetent idiotic people who caused us all to amalgamate with Warwickshire and save us all millions and millions of pounds. Course, as is often the case, it all turned out to be a load of boll.ock.s! But never mind. As expensive as it was, we can comfort ourselves in the knowledge that Sir Craig is right behind us. About thirty bloody miles behind us and well way from any violence that's visited upon us the silly tw.at.s who help fund this madness.
  10. All matters relating to HMG are getting worse rather than better. As for the Flu Jabs, months ago, one of the numerous Managers, and there's lots of them, was tasked to ensure the vaccines were ordered and the Flu Jabs were given to the patients. This hasn't happened yet and there's no sign it ever will happen any time soon. Sadly, the Manager didn't bother and still, despite pleas for things to be sorted out, the vaccines haven't been acquired and no Flu Jab programme has been put in place. With reference to the recent Hereford Times piece that highlighted the problems at HMG, particularly those relating to callers being unable to access the HMG call centre because nobody answered the phone, HMG recently contacted the HT Reporter inviting them to visit the Surgery where the call takers are sat. T'other day the Reporter attended Moorfields after accepting the invitation to observe the call takers at work. He/she found that the call taking centre was up and running, in good shape and very prompt in their dealings with their patients. I'm pretty sure the Reporter is about to produce a piece in the HT praising the new found efficiency of the Call Centre. And it did go well. All the calls were promptly answered by the staff. The problem was, and the Reporter wasn't to know this, the staff taking the calls and sat in the seats were Management and not Call Takers. Interestingly, the very next day HMG were back to square one with only two call takers managing the workload of several others who were not there. I don't suppose this'll fool the public for long. Finally, and it really does make you wonder why these surgeries stupidly merged so early on rather than wait until their new building was ready for use, the building work to the new HMG hive begins on the 19th, January, 2019 and it's expected that the work will be completed sometime in the middle of 2020. In the meantime, chaos reigns. The staff are leaving in numbers, moral is rock bottom and with only one or two exceptions, every single member of the HMG front line staff believes it's a massive c.o.ck up! And to end on a conciliatory note and display some sympathy to those who stupidly triggered this mad merger. They now wish they hadn't done it. Now, because they can't revisit their original mistake and put things right and are now tied and bound to the madness they've created, they are now like many failing organisations who are forced to defend a mess. They become obsessed with Reputation Management. Yes indeed'y. Reputation Management. Managers spending their time managing the corporate message, defending what is a pile of boll.oc.ks and then telling all that'll listen that it's all fine and dandyho, when anyone with a modicum of common sense can see that it's not. Course, well before the roof is tightly affixed to this medical brick monument to stupidity, some fool will emerge, wonder where all the money has gone, quite rightly they'll pull the plug, start again and after toting up the tens of thousands of wasted public money, they'll leave the original idiots of the merger still in charge, sack the cleaner and the tea lady and tell us all, 'Lessons Have Been Learned'.
  11. Whilst your Gallstone has been a constant source of pain to you dear Colin, take comfort in the fact that it's a British Gallstone and British Gallstones are widely renowned as the best, the biggest and the most painful in Europe. The EU Gallstones are nothing in comparison to ours and it's yet another reason why we've gotta get out of this unholy Union. Speak to your young much loved young lady and she'll confirm to you that the Polish Gallstone is nothing compared to the British Gallstone and rather than wince in agony whenever it plays you up, think to yourself, 'thank God I'm British' and fully embrace the agony the British Gallstone is capable of delivering to you whilst your laid in bed recovering from this debilitating British condition. Get well lad. My warmest regards to you and yours.
  12. Hello old friend. If you can get a response by others on HV, other than mine, I'll pull the six inch nail out of my letter box and allow you to deliver me my latest posted threatening letter from the bloody Council demanding that I comply with their latest demand and cease sending them Freedom Of Information requests.
  13. Slim, consider doing something about it and bring about a change. Something that'll make them drive elsewhere. Get yourself out of the house equipped with a large mallet or a lump hammer or, if you must, a bucket of paint stripper, and attack the bonnet of the car. Not the occupants lad. Just the engine area of this mechanically propelled vehicle. My guess is after you've thrown yourself on the bonnet, screamed loud and long enough for 'them' to conclude, 'he's a fu.c.king headbanger', they'll go and drive elsewhere. Course, the consequences of your actions, and many might think, including me, that you've lost all self control and need Sectioning, will be that the Constable will likely be required to attend, taser you and drag you away from your home and loved ones because of your irrational response to a 'three point turn'. You decide for yourself lad. It's up to you. I'd go for the lump hammer myself, but what do I know? I'm just a mild mannered, not easily provoked, old fashioned traditionalist who's less imaginative than most. Take care lad!
  14. What's the point in these raids. Seriously, and I'm not being argumentative. What's the point? There's no point to it and it's all being done without any purposeful strategic aim which is how they really should be thinking when they embark on these pointless raids.You can go to any one of these places, every day, at any time and purchase illicit tobacco. It's that easy! Its quite simply organised crime and the profits are so huge the perpetrators are more than content to tolerate the disruption, which essentially all this is, have one of their number prosecuted and round and round it goes. There's no point to what the authorities are doing. For us, the ratepayers, it's highly expensive and for the authorities, many of which quite enjoy the excitement of investigative work, it's a regular source of highly expensive, time consuming fun that allows them to pretend they're Police Officers and allows them to drift away from what their original job title was, counting bloody paper clips, escaping their desk and taking a walk on the bloody wild side. The door was opened to this area of illicit activity many years ago. We have all helped in the building of this scaffold and unfortunately there's no closing the door, there's no stopping this area of criminality and the best thing 'they' could do is accept things for what they are and start to think differently on how to deal with this issue. Disruption is not the answer. I don't know what the answer is but I do know that spending tens of thousands of pounds on each of these operations is doing nothing to ease the pain of paying your Council Tax and expecting anything in return for it. if you don't know what to do, and they don't, then don't do anything. It's a whole lot cheaper and it's certainly more thoughtful than repeatedly popping to see the Clerk To The Justices, swearing out a warrant, popping on their bloody baseball caps and shouting, 'let's rock and roll' and doing the same pointless thing over and over again.
  15. With the exception of only a small handful of members, and I'm not one of them, nobody else seems to care or bother with this forum nowadays. From where I'm sitting it's a shadow of its former self and if this rot continues in its current direction, which shows all the signs of travelling downwards, your man Colin could just as easily throw his hand in and quit leaving us all with nothing but the Hereford Times for our source of what's going on in the shire. Rather than just read a piece, make a comment. Throw the author a bone and offer up some encouragement. This here place, Hereford Voice, was once the 'must read' social network site for every single member of the Council hierarchy. Why? Because it and we mattered. Many were frightened to death of us and consequently were desperate to know what we were saying and then understand the possibilities that our views might gather momentum influence others and ultimately place them in a poor light. This should matter to everyone. Cast your minds back to the former Council Offices in Bath Street. If it hadn't been for Hereford Voice and it's more vociferous commentators, notably Dippy, Gridknocker, Cambo and Amanda Martin, then these bast.ards who's mouths are permanently stuck solid to the publics fiscal teat, they'd have flattened it and built a Firehouse on its site. Only because of this place has the old working boys home survived and has the chance of providing the city with a much needed accomadation resource. Use it or lose it! Do something yourselves before the rot becomes irreversible and people stop visiting this site because like us all they can't be bloody bothered anymore.
  16. The Council have decided, probably highly likely, but just as unlikely and probably wrongly, to fully exploit and to utilise their abilities to predict and monitor the local weather, thus throwing thousands of pounds more of our public money down the bloody plug hole, to take full advantage, and who can bloody blame them, I bloody don't, of the Skylon satellite that was launched last Pan Cake Day from Dinedor bloody Hill when Johnson, Jackson and any one else's bloody son, directed the programmer of the aforementioned bloody satellite that now orbits the good old Earth giving us here in Hereford a better and quicker chance of gritting our potholed roads far quicker than our economic competitors, that include, Albania, the Wirral bloody peninsular and a bunch of places with Z'eds in their name that I can barely pronounce, to let us in quick shi.te time know before anyone else just how bad it's going to p.i.ss down, freeze or snow on us and render us unable to bloody log in, create a Google search asking, 'what's the weather like tomorrow comrade'. It wouldn't be so bloody desperately bad if it were not true. To think that it's come to this. Bloody Hell! Mark my words, not that anyone will, this decision is a short hop away from a Plough Lane Council Weather Team equipped and burdened with a Manager, a Supervisor, a Team Leader and six tw.a.t.s who's salaries I'd drown my cat for.mi bloody despair. That it's come to this! My God!
  17. That's the idea Paul. The rich, the famous, the ruling elite, including our Parliamentarians, all expect us to follow their needs and wishes. Their problem is, and they've no idea it is their problem, is the same now as it was when we went to the Polls. They expected us to Remain and had never considered that we'd vote to Leave. They got it wrong then and if there was a second vote and there won't be, they'd get it wrong again. Every single person that I know who voted to Leave would do the same again. In fact, full of contempt for Barnier, Brussels and our Government, the ones I know who voted to Remain would now vote Leave simply because of the way in which the electorate have been treated by our so called European friends. As for the Polls, in relation to this issue, I'd take no notice of them. Truth is, those people polled are to embarrassed and ashamed to admit they voted Leave. Why? Because if you voted Leave, you're a racist, you hate foreigners, your badly informed and you didn't know what you were doing when you voted to Leave. This is modern democracy. You vote the way they want you to vote and if you disappoint them you vote again until you've got it wrong and made it right for them. Sadly, those who've succeeded in frustrating the will of the people will later shake their heads in disbelief when it becomes apparent to them that the people no longer have faith in the ballot box and instead resort to public disorder when the 'wrong' party becomes the next government. As for other consequences, such as our relationship with other EU member states who sat back and did nothing to help Britain, there'll be a reckoning and the British people will not forget who did what, who said what and why they opted to help rob them of their democratic vote to Leave just to please the rich, the famous and those with power who've absolutely no regard for democracy. We were given this British citizenship vote for a specific reason. To ensure that democracy prevailed and no King, Dictator, Ruler or Despot could ever usurp our will and we could never be slaves to any ruling elite. We in Britain are about to find out that this no longer is true, democracy is no more and our individual vote means nothing any longer.
  18. You just know how this little slice of joy is going to work out don't you! God help us I say. Their preferred provider will throw up some scaffolding, swarm the roof with clip boards, hard hats and bloody yellow vests, spend ages piddling about and when nobody is looking, they'll tip fifty gallons of liquid sealant purchased from the firm who laid the High Town Block Paving onto the Clown-Cil roof, sweep it about, and then after they've popped downstairs and told the suits it'll cost a lot more than was first thought, they'll walk away confident that the next Monsoon will see them back on the bloody roof and heralded once again as their Preferred Provider because the water is still pouring in and soiling all our bloody Council Tax demands that read, 'Pay Us. Pay Us Now Or Else'. And when it's all gone wrong again, and it bloody will, it'll be lessons have been learned and our once uPreferred Provider who buggared the job up ain't no longer our first choice Preferred Provider as they once were before the public were shafted out of another big lump of public money. Then, to make your testicals twitch a little more, the hierarchy within Plough Lane will call upon a recently departed CLOWN-CIL Director who's gone self employed to advise Local Authorities on how to provide value for money. Thereafter, after piddling about, not lifting up stones and ignoring the bloody obvious, he'll announce, 'Plough Lane Is Clean' 'Best Practices' have been employed, value for money has been attained, global warming is to blame for the monsoon, sack the bloody tea lady because her eyes are to close together for my liking and round and round we go again shifting from one self inflicted fiscal disaster to the next one. Well, it'll be something like that!
  19. Denise, Given that I've met you and you're clearly a very bright young woman, I'm surprised that you've bothered to ask a question you already know the answer to. And you do know it's answer! i suspect when you took to your keyboard asking about this issue it probably did cross your mind that you were wasting your time even bothering to resurrect this topic that saw a million quid disappear from the public purse, but in the faint chance somebody knew anything, you concluded you'd give it a shot! Well nothing has happened and if it ever did, and it won't, you, me and anyone else who's bloody bothered about our lost bloody million quid, will never ever be told about an outcome. Not while I've got breath to suck upon my hand rolled cigarette. if anything, my sympathy lies with the poor sod the Clown-Cil threw over the hedge and to the dogs simply because they needed someone to sacrifice in order to give the impression that they were as bloody bothered as we were about corporate theft. And if for some strange reason, and it ain't going to happen, someone does have to bite the dust and walk away, you can be sure they'll be Gagged with a big fat juicy wedge of our money that'll send them on their way into self employment consulting other local authorities on the joys of spending our money on a bucket of boll.ock.s that's of no use to those of us who have to fund this ravenous gravy train.
  20. He's blocked me on Twitter. The President of the European Commision has bloody blocked me from insulting him ever again. Its a disgrace! That's what it is and worse, it's a bloody personal attack on my inalienable right to tell him what I think of him and his ungodly force for bad, the bloody European Union. Who does he think he is? Doesn't he know who I am? I'll be damned if I take this lying down. I'll be damned if I take it standing up. In fact, I'll be damned if I take it at all in any position I choose to position myself in. He's bitten off more than he can chew because I ain't having it. I know what I'll have, what I won't have and what I'll be made to have if I'm beaten senseless and told, 'have this', and I'll be damned if I have it. It's not as if I deserve his bloody Twitter response that reads, 'you are blocked'. After repeatedly telling him that I despised the European Union, him, Verhofstadt and bloody Tusk and getting no response from him, I bloody found an Internet Search Engine that translated me bloody insults into French and I pressed the 'Send' button. Course, after translating me insults back into English I found that bloody French is a complicated language that's full of bloody unhelpful masculine and feminine words that can quite easily make my heartfelt insults worse in translation. Besides telling him, ' I hope your Marigolds wilt in the broad Strasburg mid day sun, I accused him of being drunk, hating British people and their domestic pets and having a close allegiance to the Germans who bombed my local chip shop. In only 140 characters, I've managed to get myself blocked by Juncker, probably got myself into someone's intray at GCHQ and it's all because of the bloody French and their bloody unreliable language. It's to complicated. French should be banned. It's a menace to the Free World. Well I ain't for stopping. Never! I've got that wild eyed gap toothed crazed federalist Verhofstadt in my sights and this time I'm not using that bloody French Translation Tool to send him me EU insults. I'm sticking with English. English is a good and fair language that doesn't distort your words and their intended meanings. And I won't stop! Juncker can get the remaining 27 Member States together and get them all to agree that I should be banned from entering their air space, travelling by land or sea to Calaise and starved from eating any French Brie, Wine, Ale or smoking their tobacco that I purchase twice yearly from Adinkerke, it won't stop me. Never! This blocking that I've been given is going to create an escalation between me and this dreadful Union that's intent upon destroying my Country. It's inevitable. By the time I'm finished I fully expect NATO forces to get dragged into this dispute and begin a bombing campaign on my three bedroom Semi Detached that's now located South of the Wye. This is what happens nowadays. You get bombed! To stop it, end this conflict and compel me to moderate my insults they'll have to get Jean Claude Juncker to unblock me on Twitter. i must be the only person in bloody Europe that's been blocked by Juncker and I say it's wrong, unfair and bloody niggling to someone like me who likes to excercise their inalienable rights and question why the EU would ever wish to destroy a nation of people who freed them all from German occupation.
  21. If ever I got the chance to get into Plough Lane, it'd be like turning the public service model clock back to Year bloody Zero. I'd be like Pol bloody Pot, but a kind and goodly soul who was unburdened and without his narcissistic psychological faults and his need to collect skulls. To begin the culling and leaving their blood on the carpets, my approach to cleaning up the whole gaff would be a combination of an ordained Catholic Priest carrying out an exorcism, Dyno Rod flushing out the drains and Rent O Kill driving out the vermin. Then, after the whole cleaning up job I'd get all the staff together and I'd tell them, 'from hereon, there'll be no more bullsh.it' and I'd tell them to curtail their use of bloody email. And if there was any bullsh.it spoken, no matter by whom, I'd have a zero tolerance toward it. If I heard it, got wind of it or some ally told me about the bullsh.it, they'd be up in front of me desk and I'd tell them, 'you've been bullsh.itting. You're on your final warning. Thats what I'd do! Second day I'd begin me search to find the Chief Executive. I'm certain he doesn't exist but if I'm wrong and he is real and he's in there hiding I'd send him packing, probably through the top floor window with an instruction, 'be gone and don't come back. Your days of bloody outsourcing anything that's in your rotten in-tray are at an end. Clear off and take you're George Medal with you'. And that's just in two days! There's lots that needs to be done but in a month I reckon I'd have the good ship Plough Lane steering a steady course away from the fiscal brink and back to safer waters where common sense and good economic governance became the normal. Then, after I'd sorted the whole place out, supped me way through God knows how much ale, folk could knock on me door saying, 'pull your pants up we're coming in' and they could politely ask me to leave because my work was done. And I'd bloody go! There'd be no siege or barricading me door to continue me reign of terror. I'd pop me stuff in a bag, say me fare thee bloody wells and I'd get back in the Commercial where I belong with the lads. And that's what I'd do Nick and Martin. No more. No less.
  22. It is what it is and you all know what it is. A cash generating machine placed in this particular place for no other reason than to make some money for them to spend. And once the Safer Roads Partnership meet again at Plough Lane, and they will, they'll be discussing the installation of other cash collecting cameras to be installed across the City that'll all be dressed up in a cleverly spun corporate message, 'we want to keep you safe'. Course, once some fool pops a blag bin bag over its lens or even paint sprays the accursed thing, we'll all be howling, 'how dare they do this to our speed camera' but quietly thinking, 'shame on me. I'm quite happy to see someone fighting back against the Council Spending Machine!
  23. Whilst I 'get' that many of us no longer care whether or not we stay or leave the Union, it shouldn't stop people at least thinking a little about the simple and straightforward economics that drive this particular business who now bemoan their plight and have become alarmed that the wealth creation model that's thus far created them wealth may be coming to an end. This business employs around 1400 people from continental Europe. Whether they are permanently resident in Herefordshire or seasonal, there is a cost to maintaining all of them in the County and that cost does not fall upon the shoulders of this particular business. It falls upon you and I. The indigenous tax and rate payers who fund the public services. The civic responsibilities that this business have, and many many more like them, is to provide a business product and to sell it and at the same time providing the work force with a safe working environment, training and to deduct tax and national insurance contributions. And that's it. Nothing more. Other than the business paying its taxes to the exchequer and complying with the demands of its local authority, there is nothing more required of them to pay and maintain their workforce. I repeat, the entire burden of financial responsibility lands on us the general public. And it doesn't come cheap! When you consider that 800,000 EU migrant children are in education in Britain and the cost to the exchequer is around 4.6 billion pounds, surely you can grasp that the Well of cheap labour isn't as fair as one might first think. Consider the cost to your local Doctors Surgery, the Hospital, the Council and all the other free public services! You are paying for all of this. The business that's subject to this discussion isn't. It's down to us! Quite simply, in an economic nutshell, the general public subsidise this workforce of cheap labour by paying to maintain its workforce of 1400 people. You can't just deposit 1400 people and not think that there isn't a cost. Yes, the workforce pay their taxes and national insurance contributions, but when you consider their low wage and our future pension liabilities that'll hit Britain in the next two or three decades, you've gotta ask yourselves, 'was it all worth it'. Now we're told that China could be the preferred destination. Why? Cheap labour. Even cheaper labour and the promise of bigger profits. Sadly in this era of modernity where British creativity has got our society to where it is today after the horrors of World War2 , the EU, our Government and the ideology of Big Business and global capitalism, have managed to turn the clock backwards to a time where grafting, sweating and working like stink for a low wage out trumps the creativity and genius of a bright young mind. Give me creativity every time! Rather that than relying on some poor desperate world citizen being forced to fly, drive or sail to a place where their creativity and intelligence is of no consequence. Seems to me the global message is, give us your young, your fittest and your finest physical specimens and we'll work them hard and ready them for World War3 where they'll be fit and ready to be first up and on the front line to face our enemy that's as yet to be clearly identified by the European Commission.
  24. Elucidate you say Martin. I'm not sure I or anyone else can explain clearly just how fu.cked up its all become. But here goes! Think of Tony Johnson, John Jarvis, Pat Morgan and all the other local political lightweight idiots that got us all to pay nigh on forty million quid for a road less than half a mile long, multiply that idiocy by a factor of fifty and everyone should be halfway to understanding just how useless this current Governments Cabinet really are. I've come to the conclusion there is absolutely no difference in ability between Members of Parliament and County Councillors. If there is, it's because some are either less ugly than others or they managed through skillful guile to secrete the obvious fact that they were completely thick and should never be allowed anywhere near someone else's ten pound note. And as for this capitalist money grabbing chancer who's thinking about moving his wealth generating business to China because he's worried that his source of slave/cheap labour is about to run dry, I hope he moves his seedlings to the Orient and when he's successfully caused the seeds to germinate, the fruit they bear either rot on the vine or become infested with black fly or aphids.
  25. Martin, if those figures are correct it confirms to me that our people are indeed stupid and highly susceptible to dictatorship. It's desperately despairing to watch our people ignoring the warning signs that tell me we are in a big hole of trouble and have no interest in discovering how deep our hole has become. As for your interest in our future military role of strategic importance, it's not a short hop of thought to imagine NATO crumbling because parts of Europe refuse to pay their way and support the Americans and then the EU Commission forming their own EU Army and allowing its forces to be directed by German leadership. Fanciful thinking? Not really. Once the ability of NATO diminishes to be replaced by the ideology of the EU, any restraints applied to Germany during 45/46 will no longer be applicable. German defence spending will increase, their power will grow and despite the WW2 understandings that bind Germany to non aggression, those ties will slowly loosen or disappear, and without anyone's asking or NATO control or leadership, the Germans, followed by their poodles France, will begin for a third time their quest to win back the glory that has eluded the pair of them for over two centuries. As for Germany and it's people, they simply cannot help themselves. They have to orchestrate. They have to meddle. They have to organise and they have to control and dominate. It's their nature and there seems to be little appetite to stop it before all control of them is lost and once again we will be faced with finding solutions to 21st century problems caused by Germany and it's quest for domination.
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