More blue-sky thinking from the Bank of England today when they referred to the possibility of a couple of quarters of ‘negative growth’. This, my city friends, is what the rest of us call ‘decline’ or something ‘having gone to shit’.
It’s ok… you CAN say the word ‘decline’ – you’re fooling nobody in avoiding it though your chosen terminology does tend to fill me with ‘reverse joy’.
L
I’m guessing I’m not the only one who finds the term Credit Crunch to be mildly irritating – these days it seems even economic deterioration has to be sexed up to make us care. I am therefore working on a series of alternative (but hopefully just as, if not more snappy) titles for the current financial situation and invite your submissions.
BankWank™
MoneyMania™
FuelFelch™
Oh and please don’t encourage me to mention that as a nation we would have about another 50-100bn ‘in the bank’ if we hadn’t spent it on an oil-fuelled war that’s driven up oil prices, increased inflation and pushed us into recession in the first place… well, along with responsible mortgage lenders giving 467% mortgages to anyone with a salary of 11 pence a year that is…
Still – at least i’s made the world a safer place…
L
Is the ‘death’ of Dermot Morgan of Father Ted fame and the surprise finding of Radovan Karadzic, twat of the first order, a little suspicious? I put it to you that they are in fact the same person.
Let us consider the photographic evidence:
Dermot Morgan as Father Ted in the hit Channel 4 comedy series of the same name.
Now, let’s take a look at Radovan Karadzic:
Conclusive proof I think you’ll agree.
L
Please stop putting iTunes, Quicktime and Safari icons back on my desktop without asking every single time I am forced to upgrade your rotten software.
That is all.
L
I pressed the snooze button on my alarm so many times this morning that by rights it should already be tomorrow.
L
Why is it that supermarket car parks are full of brainless and incredibly lazy people who’ll happily spend five minutes trying to find a parking space 25 yards closer to the store than to park in one one the several hundred empty ones less than 30 seconds walk further away?
I find that these days it’s far easier to park 2/3rds of the way out of the car park as you tend to completely avoid the brainless lazy fuckers mentioned above who are all busy clogging the arteries of the car park while waiting a minute or two for someone to reverse out of a parking space three spaces closer than the empty one they drove past a second or two earlier…
I can park 100 yards away, still get into the store a couple of minutes before them, stand far less risk of getting my car damaged as they try to get the car doors opened wide enough to squeeze their fat arses out, and ultimately get out of the car park a fuck of a lot faster too!
Dicks.
L
…tell that prick from ‘Polaris World’ that his company would be considerably more successful if they replaced his shitting terrible presence on his adverts with that of someone capable of uttering something intelligible and perhaps even capable of separating words in some meaningful way.
It seems that appears on his own adverts because he’s hoping to achieve some notoriety and fame in a vain attempt to draw a line through his appearance as that of a rich frustrated 40-something virgin who can’t even buy a fuck.
I feel I need a little more phlegm to denounce his awful presentation skills in an appropriate manner.
Is there a welshman in the house?
It seems that they have an almost parallel existence apart from the weather – they have similarly phlegm-reliant languages, a similar devotion to ovine and caprine cruelty, no sustainable independent economy etc…
L
Anyone who refers to espresso as ‘expresso’.
Please Die.
L
I was out somewhere grotty with work recently – the place I was at having something of a reputation for being a bit of a hole, and from what I’d seen of it on several visits this was a reputation that it had earned entirely on its own merit, through true and unswervingly persistent dedication to the cause – quite how I’ve escaped from this place on several occasions without dying of several aggressive forms of cancer simultaneously while still on-site I will never know – suffice to say, I can only hope this lucky streak of mine persists. Anyway, I digress…
Imagine my surprise when, on summoning up the courtage to visit the toilets in this particular establishment, I found them to be the only impeccably clean area in a place otherwise thoroughly rotten with decay and filth.
My dilemma was brought about by this simple sign:
I pondered smearing excrement up the walls and pissing in the towel dispenser but decency won out in the end, sadly.
L
