Maroon the Moaners !

I know that I  sometimes often appear to be a miserable old git with my rants about all the things that piss me off, and they are many, but I don’t feel that I fall into the category of a ‘moaner’ .. i.e .. “a person given to excessive complaints“, unlike many of my fellow citizens who seem to find fault and grumble at even the slightest error or inconvenience.

I was reminded of how many whinging ‘Brits’ there are out there when I checked some on-line passenger reviews prior to booking a Mediterranean cruise, and could hardly believe that some people had to endure the horrors of … “plates at buffet not warm enough” .. “wine glasses too small” .. and ..  ”bowl at breakfast was not large enough for my Weetabix”. It reminded me of the time on a previous cruise when the old bag lady sitting next to me at breakfast ordered a poached egg and complained when a plate was placed before her with two eggs on it. She insisted that the waiter take it away and bring her a plate with just a single egg on it !

A recent report showed that cruise passengers complained about .. “the sea being too loud” .. “not having a window in an inside cabin” .. “the boat not waiting for them to finish their sight-seeing” .. and .. “no celebrities on board” a cruise run by a company named ‘Celebrity Cruises’ !

OK, so I know that ‘moaning’ is not the same as complaining, and the thing is that we can all moan as much as we like, but unless we take action to put right those things which we moan about, then grumbling is pointless and a waste of time. Unfortunately, and strange as it may seem, some people find that moaning makes them happy ! .. and if this is so, I think the cruise companies are missing out by not advertising the fact that life on board can be one long whinge. They could borrow from the great Yiddish language and call them …

… “Kvetch Kruises” !

Insensitive ‘snaps’ !

Having attended two family members’ funerals in recent months, I have to say that I would have been very upset and angry if someone had taken photographs of my grieving relatives and friends when they were showing understandable emotion, and then published them for the world to see; so I wonder how the late Margaret Thatcher’s family feels after the media’s gross intrusion into what should have been very private moments.

I’m afraid that showing people in distress is all too common these days, like when some idiot of a reporter sticks a microphone under some weeping woman’s nose and asks … “How do you feel now that you know your husband and children died in the crash” … or some other such crass question.

I suppose that it is just another part of the “recreational grief” or “mourning sickness” phenomenon which now prevails in this country, and which, when it comes to the ‘press’ coverage of some tragic events, is quite rightly described as …

… “Grief Porn” !

‘Iron Lady’ ? .. Yes .. ‘Iron Duke’ ? .. No !

I must confess that I was not a fan of Margaret Thatcher, and nor, judging by the comments in the press and on ‘twitter’ etc, were a large proportion of the British people. However, I won’t spend time here by going over the same ground concerning her political career, for this has been more than well covered by the media.

All I will say is that the ‘Maggie’ deserves the same respect when it comes to her funeral as any other human being, and, as one of those who became unemployed during the recession of her early days in office, I can understand the feelings of those who suffered as a result of some of her policies. However, I cannot understand why some people feel the need to celebrate her death with “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” parties, particularly as most of those ‘rent a mob’ types seen dancing in the streets, were not born when she was in power and have probably never seen a steel mill or met a coal miner.

Now although I said that she deserves ‘respect’ and, of course, she should be given a dignified funeral as would be given to any other leading political figure, I just do not see why she is being given the grand ‘send off’ now being planned. It’s going to cause chaos and probably a riot, cost millions (including those greedy bastards MPs claiming £3,750 each expenses) and sounds like the sort of show which would have been laid on, in times gone by, for some national hero or saviour of our country such as the Duke of Wellington, or Horatio Nelson, whose statue stands on top of it’s column in Trafalgar Square where that famous fourth plinth still stands empty … Umm ! .. They wouldn’t dare ..

… would they  ?

No nukes is good nukes !

Many years ago, at the height of ’The Cold War’, I served in a ‘Ground Controlled Interception Radar Station’ on the south coast of England, and one of my duties was to act as the assistant to the chief controller, which mainly meant that I answered the telephone, or should I say, any one of a range of telephones. The only one that I never got to answer was that big RED one ! .. Yes ! .. If that red ‘phone had rung, it would have meant that we where all in the shit !

Now it would seem that our Dave is expecting one of those calls, although I’m not sure if he has a big red telephone, for in a recent speech, which was more ‘Tony Blair’ than ‘Winston Churchill’, he said ..
 
“North Korea does now have missile technology that is able to reach, as they put it, the whole of the United States and if they are able to reach the whole of the United States they can reach Europe too. They can reach us too, so that is a real concern.” ..

He then went to sea on a ‘Tridant’ nuclear missile submarine and posed with the captain on the outer casing (If only someone had ordered Dive ! Dive ! Dive ! at that moment).

I doubt very much if that little fat Korean bloke with the funny haircut will press the ‘nuclear button’ Dave, but if he does, don’t panic ! Just do as we were taught in the RAF, and … Put your head between your legs and …

… kiss your arse “goodbye” !

What next ? Fish, Chips and Chili Peppers !

Easter is here once again. That great religious festival of chocolate eggs, cuddly bunnies, fluffy chicks and hot cross buns: so at the risk of offending a member of some non-Christian faith who may have been watching me, I picked up a pack of those fruity little sticky buns on my recent visit to Sainsbury’s, and saw that ‘splashed’ across the package were the words  .. “cranberry and golden raisin hot cross buns”.

“Cranberry” ! .. So not exactly “Ye Olde English” recipe then ! Which brings me to asking the question … Why do so many people feel the need to muck about with traditional British dishes by adding extra or foreign ingredients ?

‘Shepherd’s Pie’ is a simple minced lamb dish topped with mashed potato .. not cheese ! .. ‘Toad in the Hole’ is just sausages cooked in batter .. It doesn’t need mustard, sliced prosciutto or bloody pancetta ! and I’m pretty sure that there wasn’t much oregano about in Lancashire when the famous ‘hotpot’ was first thought up by some hungry mill worker. ‘Steak and Kidney Pie’ is just that, plain and simple ! .. I’ve just read a recipe which included .. red wine, tomato purée, mustard powder, carrot, mushrooms, parsley, thyme leaves, extra-virgin olive oil and, can you believe ? .. Greek yogurt !

Now, I must say that, it’s nice to see such a variety of foodstuffs in our supermarkets these days, and I do enjoy my pasta, moussaka and sweet and sour, and if I’m not too hungry I’ll go for ‘nouvelle cuisine’, but I also love my good old British ‘grub’, and as much as I like the flavour of garlic, I don’t want to taste it in my …

… ‘Spotted Dick and Custard’ !

Dressing up and playing silly buggers !

Well, it’s certainly been a good few days for the ‘mumbo-jumbo’ merchants.

Last week it was the turn of the Roman Catholic Church to elect a new Pope, with all that black smoke, white smoke nonsense, and hours of pontif poncing about in Saint Peter’s Basilica. A very spectacular, and I must admit, dignified affair, apart from, that is, the odd ’groupie’ nun and hysterical religious nutter: although all those richly attired and well fed old cardinals did rather dominate the scene, and made one wonder just how much it costs to keep them in the style which they and their acolytes so obviously enjoy. 

Meanwhile, a couple of days ago, just down the road from where I live, we saw the old bearded ‘Arch-Druid’ being replaced by some new bloke as Archbishop of Canterbury and although Canterbury Cathedral is a magnificent building and the place was awash with men in fancy dresses, this local ’shindig’ was a bit of a mess and somewhat down-market compared to the recent Vatican extravaganza; and all that bongo drumming and tribal dancing could hardly be called “dignified”, although it did seem to raise a giggle or two from Charlie and ‘Cruella’: and what was all that Punjabi ‘hymn’ singing, banging on doors, and praying in French all about ? I bet poor old Thomas Becket was spinning in his nearby tomb, for this truly was …

… Mumbo-Bloody-Jumbo ’par excellence’ !

“A prescription for trouble” !

And the Lord said unto Moses … ”Keep taking the tablets” !

Well old Mo only had to get his prescription filled once on Mount Sinai, so repeat prescriptions were not a problem for him, which is more than can be said for anyone who is a patient at my local health centre.

Why ? … Well, a new system has been introduced, whereby repeat prescriptions for regular medications are sent to a pharmacist of your choice “electronically”: so instead of you taking your repeat request form to the health centre, collecting your signed prescription a couple of days later and getting it filled the same day by taking it to your local pharmacy (maybe you have to wait for ten minutes), you now have to leave the request at the pharmacy and return in two or three days when your pills and potions should be waiting for you.

Sounds like a good idea ? … Wrong ! … Last week I tried it for the first time. It was Tuesday when I left my request form at the pharmacy. .. “Should be ready by Thursday” .. said the young lady behind the counter.

I did not return to collect my ‘meds’ until today. One week later ! .. and guess what ? .. After much searching of the shelves and storage boxes, there was no sign of them.

It took several phone calls to the health centre and much use of a computer by the pharmacist and his staff, before a printer ’dispensed’ my repeat prescription.

Now I’m pretty sure that I’m not the only one who’s prescription has ‘disappeared into the ether’, and I can only imagine all the hassle this new system is causing at the medical centre … and why ?

Well, once again some ‘clever dick’ has ignored the old adage   …

… “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” !

Bumps and bums,

I don’t know what I am more excited about .. seeing Kate’s ‘baby bump’ .. or .. the ginger spare’s latest blonde bimbo ? ..and guess what ? .. the dopey duchess is going back to ‘work’ after yet another two months well deserved holiday, and the ’Terror of the Taliban’ hedonistic Harry is off to South Africa where he is scheduled to spend three days (Yes, a whole three days !) ’working’ with his charity. Ahh ! I hear you sigh .. “Just like his ‘saintly’ mother”.

During his official visit holiday, Harry will meet up with his two cousins, Beatrice and Eugenie who will then join him at the wedding of Lady Mary-Gaye Georgiana Lorna Curzon’s daughter, the triple-barrelled, Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe. Now that’s what I call ‘proper posh’. I bet her mama didn’t work as a ‘trolley dolly’ like Kate’s mum.

Beatrice and Eugenie, who recently followed in their pompous father’s footsteps by ‘working’ (there’s that word again) as trade ambassadors for Britain by driving a Union flag-branded ‘mini’ through the Brandenburg Gate and around Berlin. Of course, the two pampered princesses were so ’knackered’ by this hard graft that they had to dash off for a well earned holiday on the ski slopes of the eye-wateringly expensive resort of Verbier, with Harry’s latest blue-blooded blonde, Cressida Bonas. I wonder if it’s pronounced .. “bone-arse” ?

I gather that upper crust ’Cress’ spent three years ‘working hard’ at university to obtain a degree in … (can you believe ?) … Dancing ! .. although I’m not sure if her diploma …

… came complete with a pole !