My eyes are blind I can not see.

Having recently stood at a lampost waiting for circa 2 hours for a bus (that funnily enough arrived - yet failed to stop) and equally, having reported my missing wallet to the local barber - I decided it was time to saunter on over to the local opticians to exploit their expertise and indulge in a bit of hot posterior othmological action.

Walking in, the venue was as would be expected.

Attentive staff sat in a relatively dirty reception area.

Fuck it. Who'd know.

Sittting upon one of the comfy 1980's chairs, and thanking my usually unlucky stars I didn't have asthma, the local radio station appeared to be playing, " both types of music - country and western" . A multitude of posters adorning the walls non-subconscuously informed that by purchasing and donning a pair of expensive in-vogue spectacles I would immidiately be transformed from the the 5'9 streak of piss that I am, int a 6'4, well built, muscular, highly tanned addonis.

Albeit a sight impaired addonis.

You cant have it all.

The optician, (a very pleasent lady who didnt wear glasses) beckonded me into her lair and lavished upon me an array of high tech gadgetory more akin to a beached nuclear submarine than a small 3 roomed shop next to the co-op.

Lights were on, lights were off. I follwed the green dot and refused to cross the horizontal red line(s)

Attachments were added (no) and backgrounds changed.

After all that and 35 quid lighter - it appeared I would not have the opportunity to become the Timmy Mallet of the glasses world - as my vision was not disabled.

Hurrah.

The reason why I mention this is that this morning, utlisilising my perfect 20/20 vision, I read on the bbc news website

"Dogs recognise owners face"

The article elaborated that, golly-fucking-who'd-of-fucking-thought-it-gosh (and I paraphrase there) - scientists have, after expensive time consuming research, dogs can recognise the face of their owner.

Next stop a cure for the 4 biggest killers? I should bastard coco.

Jesus really would weep.

One size doesnt fit all.

'Well I dont know much about the Keynesian V's Monetary policy debate - but I know about fluffy bunnies and cuddly puppies'. Twat.


Its been less than 24 hours as the crow doesnt fly since chancellor fuckwit announced the spending reforms required to allegedly raise the country up from the depths of econmic despair and return it back to its former apparent glory.

In this brief period, I am sick as an anaemic chip at hearing the fucking word "cuts".

Equally, I'm also fed up of hearing various representatives of the cabinet making promises that economic growth will return and that private investment will off-set the associated public sector decline not-soon-to-emerge.

Additionally, and to provide a balanced whinge - If I hear the moaning left sobbing ernestly over the decimation to the public sector and the 'vital' services they provide- I may either implode or gag on the torrent of fucking vomit that I'm fighting to keep down.

On one side, the coalition Tories under Cameron have always sought to reduce state intervention and allow market forces to naturally determine economic properity. Pick up any o'level book and it will confirm in no-uncertain terms that conservative ideology has always aimed to encourage competition, promote self-help and profit maximisation, and reduce state intervention across the board.

Unless it was an o'level geology book. And then it may be a tad suprising to find rhetoric about british politics and macro economic stategy, and perhaps more probable to find a chapter on the mating habbits of the lesser spotted trilobite.

That really can't be spelt right.

Gramatically incorrect observations aside, its a conservative with a capital C fact.

Private good - public bad. So for all those people that have voted for the curent government dont come crying when your services are slashed. When your laying on the uncleaned MSR ridden floor of the delapidated hospital due to a lack of 1940 style beds, unable to return (to your soon-to-be-repossessed home) due to a lack of social services provision - dont grumble. Be happy.

But dont say people didnt tell you so. As they assuredly did.

Now Labour. They have metamorphised more times than a schizophrenic butterfly diagnosed with significant personality disorder(s). They landed the country in the shit with a spending spree not witnessed since Elvis decided to nip to the local mcdonalds for a quick snack.

Ultimately, I welcome public sector cuts. But not when it impacts upon services that are required for the most needy. We have all heard stories about the local government employee that spends his 7.5 hour day reading his paper, ignoring his phone and playing his nintendo.

Or the neighbour that claims incapacity due to back problems, although, is still able to wash, wax and polish her car thrice daily; participate in the olympic frossberry flop competition; and in her spare time experiences more cock ends than weekends.

Targetted efficiencies you see.

Higher levels of local autonomy will only exacerbate problems. Its often the senior management that are the problem. Will they be objectively willing to say...."erm, yes - we are woefully up twat creek unable to continue the current level of services. That said, Im a bit wank at my job, as are my fellow managers. I think my first action will be to sack myself and that of my colleagues to ensure no frontline services are effected".
This country makes me fucking sick.

When 2 become one....

.......Is an expression that can be looked upon in various difrerent ways.

On one hand - it may illustrate a somewhat depressingly accurate vision of what every couple the world over has in store.

Either voluntarily or involuntary.

Flip side, we could consider this to be associated with the combined genius of the spice girls aka rough, inept, childlike, ginger and the unforgettable sporty - whom - if ever there was an argument to be made for mandatory gender testing within various athletic arena - sporty 'The-Cock'- spice is surely validation in itself.

Nevertheless, the point to all this prattle is that when 2 did (or does) become one, things invariably go tits up.

Unless you consider a reduction in the context of cooking.

I suppose that isnt really when 2 become one though. But if you simmered 2 fluid ounces and the source left in the teflon equated to 1 fluid ounce - it could marginally fall into that catagory.

Then again - you would be hard pressed to ensure an exact measurement. When the pan is removed from the hob, boiling ceases, steam cools, effecting the volume etc etc etc.

Still Im again missing the point to this.

When the spice girls dissolved at the risk of retaining the cookery theme - and Individually attempted to make a mark as solo 'artists',things turned to shit.

The Beatles and Queen the same over.

Again -not suggesting that there were 2 in the band - but you get the gist.

Today, the chancellor of planet fuckwit maintained the way to overcome the current financial climate was to:-

i)slash benefits for those most in need; and,

ii) Squeeze the public sector until the pips have popped.

iii) (And at the risk of sounding like a flyer for 'eugenics-are-us') 'ring-fenced' and indeed made permanenet the winter fuel allowance for those over a retirement age. You know the ones - the old dears that dont pay any tax.

Yet recieve the non-means tested benefit even if they live in a 25 storey mansion. In Egypt.

So many other little idiosyncratic policies to dessimate the country and return it back to a big society bases soley on social darwinismn, so little time.

Fate.

I like to think I'm an amiable chap.

Able to laugh at myself, take a joke, share a smile. Having experienced the high times and similarly the arse end of life, I'm not quick to judge, attempt to be moderatley value free and accept that each and everyone has a different view shaped by life experience and peers.

Thats said, this week circa 4 people have suggested "...if these things are not meant to be, they are not meant to be... Things happen for a reason".

Effectively, this is bollocks. There is no master plan, no non-divine modus operandi. Our destiny is not pre-determined from birth.

If something does not go according to plan, or indeed events take a tits up heading - this is never a good thing. Don't let the bastards convince you otherwise.

As one door closes another will assuredly not open up to compensate.

The swingometer of fate does not exist.

'ooooh, bad luck comes in 3's'

Not it fucking does not. Three for a girl you see. Interpretation. That is all it fucking means.

Jesus wept.

Shit Happens.

Two things of no noteable worth to bring to my own attention today.


The first of which is the sizeable oil spill in, around, and upon the gulf of mexico i.e this:-





The huge fuck-off shadow on the bottom right hand-side of the above piccy illustrates the oil leak.


According to expert free-lance journalists (commissioned- and paid handsomely - to report on the story until public interest dwindles), "......the spill is threatening to eclipse the 1989 exxon valdez leak off Alaska as America's worst environmental disaster".


Golly gosh.


Reading a bit more about the "leak", circa 23million litres have allegedl yand already pissed out into open ocean, signifying dire straights/neo-cataclysmic implications for the surrounding wetlands and associated wildlife.


Thus far, highly complex scientific-clad attempts to curtail the spill have failed to offer a sollution.


As good fortune would have it - I have the answer.


Bearing in mind bastards luck - if your travelling to work on a friday sunny morning and are sporting a recently pressed sparkling white shirt - you will always find yourself short of petroleum.

Popping into the garage and filling up, you leave the pumps with not only a full tank of gas - but additionally a big bastard stain that even the highest strenght detergent fails to remove.

Consequently, instead of the gazillion pounds on huge concerte corks and sadbags that fail to do anything apart from fucking the environment up further - employ many of the inbred southern yanks to weave a gigantic dress-shirt.


Have this airdopped over the spill and it will absorb all the spill thereby immidately remedying the problem.


The second problem is that I have been worrying about one of my cats all morning. Dylan has failed to eat any food and hasnt moved a great deal since 05.30. Eventually he ran over to me and sat on my lap.


After around 5 minutes of innocent petting - he jumped down and descended hastily the stairs - leaving me with a moderately sized cat shit on my track-suit pants.


Therein was the problem.


He seems happier now.

Our Heath, Our Care yet our Fuck-all say.

30% potential cuts to local government. Or there abouts.

According to this evenings Panaroma - there appeared a not-so-subliminal suggestion that we should rouse the sleeping giant that is the electorat to save libraries, leisure centres and Community centres.

No great mention as to care for the elderely, mental health services, Childcare or social services in general.

Stats created by the government inform us that if population demographics maitain the same pattern by 2029 the largest percentage of the population will be over 65's.

Potentially being informally cared for by young carers.

On a completely unrelated note - this morning news informs us that 1 in 4 adults is being diagnosed with some form of mental distress.

There's no news like bad news.

Could the last person to leave England - please turn the energy saving lightbulb powered (thats sourced locally) light off. Assuming that your not bed bound. And that your mobile. And that your not trapped in your own urine soaked chair as your local authority can't afford to maitain care for you at home. And your carer hasn't subsequently fucked off back home to Poland where they can continue their former career as a GP.

Who cares.

Unified thought process.

Once again - the rusted up roller coaster that passes as life has prevented an update for a spell.

So whats new?

The country now enjoys the benefits of a coalition government with David 'we buy any car' Cameron and Nick the Gimp. Gordon Brown regretfully tendered his resignation to concentrate on his "Main job" i.e that of Husband and Father.

There's nothing like commitment.

In equally important news, last sunday I found myself drawn to a television program which entraps its audience with the promise of addressing "the big issues" in life. The topics up for debate were:-

i) Do Animals have souls?
ii) Should those with substance abuse be sterilised and paid for there participation?

What the fuckadeee-doo.

What hope is there for any of us.

And what of Animals with souls with substance abuse issues that have already been sterilised? What should happen to them.

It really is a bit of a worry.