Thursday, 30 December 2010

There is a time when it’s right to say, “Just F-off!”

When cashpoints and tills in shops are fitted with buttons forcing customers to accept or decline an opportunity to make a donation to a charity, will they also be fitted with a FarQueue [see rant for 11th September, 2010, Ed.] button for customers to press to send an email of defiance to the government over its chugging [Charity Mugging. Ed.] attempts?
    D. Cameron is always banging on about his Big Society and a smaller state. How does creating a new Ministry of Chuggering make the state smaller? Only a politician who has never had much contact with the real world [i.e. most of them, Ed.] would come up with something like this.

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

’Uman Rights – what a wonderful idea!

The staff at the Mansion are all fired up to get in on a get-rich-quick scam. They all plan to sue former schools for damages because their ’uman rights were abused when these rotten little atheists were forced to take part in religious assemblies and sing hymns in praise of a god to which they did not subscribe.

Monday, 27 December 2010

Change we weren’t consulted about

The DNA of chocolate has been unravelled by some French outfit, and so we can now expect it to be “messed about with” in the name of making dosh for the big companies and giving the customers something they don’t want with no alternative.
   ● The dog lovers at the mansion are hoping that someone will mess about with it in a way that stops chocko being lethal to doggies!

p.s. The smart money is going into a mine in Nevada, which is being reopened to break the Chinese monopoly on producing “rare earth” elements, which are essential for making electronics, super-magnets, lasers, high-tech TVs, batteries and all sorts of essential gadgets.
   ● I was offered a chance to get in on the ground floor with a Russian consortium. But in the light of the way Mr. Khodorovsky has been screwed and railroaded by Russia’s Mafia government, I pleaded an urgent appointment and left the building in a hurry!

Saturday, 25 December 2010

Here’s a Seasonal Thought

The US military (the ones at the sharp end, anyway) are up in arms about Velcro fasteners. They don’t work as well as buttons when pockets bulge. They collect dirt and sand. And they go “RRRR - I - I - I - I - P” on opening and give away a soldier’s position to the enemy.

Buttons are silent, work in muddy conditions and, according to the US Army’s laundry experts, “do not fray and disintegrate with repeated laundering”. Which says rather a lot about experts who don’t know that buttons do drop to pieces and/or come off in the wash.

Well, please yourselves!

Thursday, 23 December 2010

Scraping For Trivia

There’s a lot of chat about Libs shooting from the lip but what have the rest of them (besides Vince) been saying? D. Heath, deputy leader of the House, said Osbourne, the Chancellor, has the capacity to get up yer nose. P. Burstow, minister for something or other, doesn't want people to trust D. Cameron because he hasn’t become a cuddly Liberal and he has values that Burstow doesn’t share.

A. Stunell, local government minister, has doubts about D. Cameron’s sincerity. N. Baker seems to think he’s in line for a Nobel Prize for putting the Coalition on the right tracks despite having to fight against a regime like the one in South Africa in the apartheid era.

Some bugger else thinks we’re getting a Liberal Maoist revolution. Has anyone asked if we want one? Of course not. And if the government did ask people what they want, it would be New Labour’s abuses abolished, the people in New Labour non-jobs sacked and the same for public service managers with a New Labour mentality (including the police).

What we want is value for money, we want to know where the money is going, and to whom, and we want the people spending taxpayers’ money on our behalf to be accountable to the public for their blunders. But will we get any of that from the Liberals? Fat chance!

Note of Etiquette: In future, he’s to be known as “Vince Cable, the disgraced business secretary”, which is rather Mandelson.

Tuesday, 21 December 2010

Refreshed? Looks like very well refreshed!

Trivial Democrat Business Minister V. Cable has been threatening to ‘push the nuclear button’ and blow up the Coalition if he doesn’t get his way. Pull the other one, Vince!

He’s had years of watching bungling Labour deadlegs posing as government ministers. Now, he’s one himself. Is he going to give all that up? Not even if D. Cameron slapped his face on live national TV, stuck up 2 fingers and told him to push his effin button.

Give up all that power and the ministerial car and the perks and the grovelling ranks of civil servants? Put a bit more water in it next time, Vince.

Monday, 20 December 2010

And another thing . . .

It’s just been on the BBC lunchtime news, so it must be true. In Moscow, where they have 9 million snow ploughs, the traffic is just crawling along, just like in frozen England.

And talking about frozen, the Global Warming Swindler lobby has been trying to persuade people that 2010 has been the hottest year on record. But spoilsports like and the Real Science blog have given the game away. 75% of the data used to “prove” the case comes from inventing temperatures for regions where there are no weather stations. And if you’re making up your data, you can “prove” anything you like. Who’d have thought climate science would be so like politics!

Sunday, 19 December 2010

Well, would you believe it!

I don’t know. You go out of the country for five bloody minutes and the next thing you know, the snow’s back and everywhere is at a total standstill and the usual bloody suspects are moaning about it. “Oh, they don’t get hold-ups and chaos at airports and on the roads like this in Russia or Scandinavia or New York.”

Small problem, they’re not comparing like with like. We don’t get snow like they do in Russia, Scandinavia or northern America. And if the government started spending the amount of money those places have to just to keep going, you’d soon hear howls of protest. Enough to drown out the rent-a-mobs who are pretending to be students.

And the loudest howls would be from the Labour lot, who gave us the limited effort available for this year and spent all our bloody money to make sure there’s none for improvements. So if you get stuck in the snow, blame Gordon effin Brown.

By the by, there’s a huge green patch where the helicopter landed and the staff, resourceful souls that they are, are laying bets on when it will vanish under a new layer of snow.

Monday, 13 December 2010

Redistribution? Forget it!

Hooray for a more Thatcherite Britain! Hooray for solid opposition to redistribution of wealth. And surprise that the resistance solidified under New Labour.
    “If there is to be any redistribution of wealth, it should be in my direction only.”
I’ll drink to that!

Sunday, 12 December 2010

Just another thought

Last week, I spotted this item on the BlackFlag News website:

“Aren't wheely bins great! Except when the lid freezes shut and you can't put anything in the bugger.”

At the end of this week, there was an item in the paper announcing that lots of councils are asking their residents to keep their bins somewhere warm to stop the lids freezing shut. Which doesn’t do much about the problem of a bin left out on the pavement all day, waiting for attention.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Just a thought

Doesn’t the world look a bare, grey and miserable place now that the rain has washed away all the lovely white snow and left just a stark, soggy, winter landscape?

Thursday, 9 December 2010

Building Britain Bigger

One unexpected consequence of Dave the Leader Cameroony’s “Big Society” is that he wants people to be free to choose to make their home bigger without having to pay cash to their local council for permission to build. So that’s conservatories, extensions, en-suite gyms and swimming pools, and turrets for all with the dosh to pay for it.


Until Labour gets in and triples the Council Tax for anyone who has dared to deviate from their home’s original architectural plan.

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Thank you so bloody much!

Have you ever wondered what New Labour’s real legacy is? It’s a psycho criminal doing 35 years being awarded the ’uman right to be called “Mister” by the screws while he’s enjoying Her Majesty’s hospitality. And Gordon Broon pretending he’s still a full-time MP when he’s never in London expect when he’s plugging his book, Blair-style.

“To the Deserving - bugger all. To the Undeserving - as much as they’re cheeky enough to blag.”

Thursday, 2 December 2010

Whitemare, Schnitemare!

Don’t you get tired of the Moaning Minnies, who sound off every year when a bit of snow brings the country to a standstill? Of course, they have serious snow-tackling gear in Austria, Switzerland and Scandinavia, and for cities like New York, where they get HUGE amounts of snow every winter. But imagine the volume of the Minnies if we spent money on the same scale for preventing a few days’ disruption. Especially while the country is broke because G. Broon spent all our money and put us in a HUGE Broon Hole of debt.

Where would the cash come from? Would we have to stop overseas aid to China and India and stop funding their space programmes? Now, there’s a thought!

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

The Real Shocker!

Are we shocked by the shower of US diplomatic telegrams on WikiLeaks? Does it come as any surprise to know that the Yanks thought Gordon Brown was a nutter and David Cameron is a non-entity who doesn’t believe in anything, least of all real Conservatism with a Capital C? Maybe we’re surprised to find that Hilary Clinton seems to be going into the identity theft business if she’s collecting the credit card details of UN diplomats. But are we shocked? Given Mrs. Clinton’s record, not even a little bit.

No, the only shocking thing in the news right now comes in the Leslie Nielsen obituaries. In the Good Old Days, I used to watch Police Squad whenever I could find it on TV. I was always convinced that there were lots of episodes of this wonderful comedy series. I was dumbfounded to learn that only SIX episodes were ever made because the Great American TV Audience was too dim to get this terrific show. Now, that really is shocking. And very sad.

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Who pays for all this? Me! Part 2

Millions of Irish scroungers take to the streets to protest against the spending cuts forced on their benighted country by national bankruptcy. So what do they expect? The government to change its mind and pretend to be Gordon Brown? And say, “The people don’t want cuts, so we’re going to do a U-turn and carry on spending money we don’t have.” And what’s our stupid government doing, borrowing money to lend it to the Irish? Politics is no longer the art of the possible, it’s the art of the feckan stupid.

Thursday, 25 November 2010

Who pays for all this? Me!

“Chancellor George Osbourne addressed the Board of Deputies of British Jews”, it said in the paper, which left me asking myself if all British Jews are sheriffs and that’s why they have deputies. Next thought: Who pays the wages of all these deputies? Who seem to have New Labour non-jobs, which contribute only to the Brown Hole in the economy. No wonder the country’s in a mess with stuff like this going on.


Tuesday, 23 November 2010

Dave ja vu

Isn’t it amazing how no one learns lessons from history! The last time the British economy was FUBB was when Labour were in charge; Callaghan, Healey, all that lot. The next time was . . . when New Labour was in charge; Blair, Brown, all that lot. And across the sea, it’s the Irish economy which has gone tits up with a Labour government in charge.

And to make it even worse, they’ve got the IRA party leading the protests, so bombs, knee-cappings, disappearances & secret murders, all that lot in prospect. Plus the obligatory bank robberies. Which is why my financials have been doing an “exposure” audit to make sure my zillions aren’t at risk of Irish defaults or defaults by others in a chain going back to Ireland. Having lots of dosh can be real hard work at time. But infinitely preferable to the alternative, of course.

Thursday, 18 November 2010

All you need is the right story!

It’s not a surprise that a fake priest has been fooling “the art world” with forgeries of pictures by lesser known artists. Especially as the art world is all about: “What can it be sold for?” rather than: “Is it genuine?” or even: “Is it any good?”

Heresy, but I misread the caption on the real & fake “Signac” tugboat pictures in the papers and I thought the forgery looked more genuine than the real thing as a picture!

Wednesday, 17 November 2010

Great minds think alike or led by the nose?

Update to the last post – surprise! There it is in the book, I found today. Kennedy was afraid of the monster he’d created in NASA and, given the opportunity, he’d have done a deal with Krushchyov to end the space race. So did the military/industrial Mafia behind NASA realize that Kennedy was more valuable to them dead rather than alive and wobbling, and have him whacked?

Tuesday, 16 November 2010

Here’s A New One

The death of the priapic JFK has spawned more conspiracy theories than you can shake a stick at, but here’s another: Kennedy was killed by NASA. I’m about half way through a book called Dark Side of the Moon, subtitled “The Magnificent Madness of the American Lunar Quest” and written by one Gerard DeGroot. Kennedy started to go soft on NASA after he’d won his election posing as a space nut but he was confronted by the enormous burden which the space programme would put on the American economy.

Kennedy could see that the US space programme in the 1960s was all about out-doing the Russians even if it screwed the American people into the ground. But with so much of the military-industrial Mafia behind the space race, he quickly went back to being a space buff, but he made his vice-president, LBJ, the man in charge of space so that Johnson would collect the flak if it all went horribly wrong.

It makes a sort of sense that the generals and industrialists would take out the potential road block of JFK to put their man LBJ in charge. And it also explains why LBJ didn’t run for president when his term ran out and he was quite happy to leave Nixon as the hostage to fortune of the NASA/military/industrial Mafia.

Monday, 15 November 2010

Don’t you just love it when the wheels come off?

Fernando Alonso just had to finish in the top 4 in the last Grand Prix of the season (thanks to Ferrari International Assistance turning a blind eye to illegal team orders) to be drivers’ champion in a season dominated by Red Bull, which had already sewn up the constructors’ championship.

Alonso was able to keep his closest rival, Mark Webber, behind him but all he could manage was 7th place behind 2nd division drivers who were desperate to prove they should keep their job. As a result, Sebastian Vettel, 3rd in the drivers’ championship at the start of the race, was able to lead all the way from pole, become the youngest ever F1 champ and stand on a podium filled with champions, current and former.

All of which proves that the universe does get it right on occasion, but so infrequently that we remain amazed that things actually worked out the way they should.

Sunday, 14 November 2010

The Cult of OPD (Other People’s Dosh)

It’s amazing what the Arts Mafia think they can get away with. I’ve just had a mailing inviting me to achieve “patron status” by making a generous donation (i.e. £50K plus) to my local Arts Bandits, who have ambitions to put on a ballet on stilts, of all things!

It’s supposed to be cutting edge and a biting comment on the state of society today (under the budget-cutting, gravy draining Tory Coalition implied but not actually said). I normally believe in anything for a laugh, but in this case, one is not amused. Not even a little bit.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Death To The Bozotwats!

‘Is lordship is away at the moment, so I’m filling in. I wonder if he ever reads my bits?
   Don’t you just hate it when you’re been watching a weekly series on TV, but when you switch it on, it’s not there? It’s down in your personal TV schedule, it’s in Radio Times with a short summary of what’s supposed to happen in the episode and it’s even there on the TV’s on-screen programme listing. But what’s actually showing is something completely different.
   Most of us can only curse with helpless rage when this happens and swear at the programming bozotwat who messed about with your life. But some of us are now able to do something about it. So if you’re a TV programming bozotwat of the sort who makes series disappear in mid-season, be advised that your sins will now be uncovered. If you’re a bozotwat, there will be retribution.
   You might get to the car park to find that all your tyres are flat, or your battery is completely lifeless. You might get home to find all your upstairs windows broken. You might even find that the instrument of the breakage is an open tin of paint, which has gone EVERYWHERE in the room which is currently open to the elements.
   It’s about time that people who mess with the lives of other learn that there will be consequences. And TV scheduling bozotwats are just a starting point. There are plenty of people around willing to be paid agents of retribution. And I know how to contact enough of them to make a difference.

Saturday, 6 November 2010

Beating The Bonny Night Rain

Everyone knows that it always pours down on Bonfire Night, so I decided to do the celebration in some comfort this year. Starting with a marquee on the terrace containing an indoor bonfire — a ‘living’ fire consisting of a flickering light show and lots of space heaters.

We had the outward wall of the tent rolled up to let the gathered throng admire the efforts of the somewhat soggy pyromaniacs as they let off a fair few quidsworth of fireworks. And Irwin scared up some varicoloured Chinese lanterns as a finishing UFO touch.

Baked potatoes, parkin, treacle toffee and a selection of real ales made it a v. enjoyable night. Which just goes to show that throwing a lot of cash at a problem like keeping everyone dry and comfortable on a traditionally wet night really works.

Wednesday, 3 November 2010

Clock Craziness

All the messing about with clocks at this time of year can be v. confusing, especially if there are lots of them needing to be put back an hour. I couldn’t work out why one of them in my computer room was showing a time which was completely different from the right time or the right time plus an hour. I was trying to work out why, if it had been right the previous day, that it was showing 34 minutes past the hour instead of 18 when I noticed that the second hand wasn’t moving and the battery had given up the ghost. They say the obvious explanation is usually the best one but it’s not always the one that occurs to you!

Saturday, 30 October 2010

Free of the Phantom

What’s the qualification for being a bare-faced liar? Is it necessarily not having a beard? The topic came up when one of the staff phoned me to ask if it was okay if he arrived a bit late. He had an excellent reason for his request: he’d been visited by the Phantom Postman and he had to go to the sorting office for something that needed a signature.

The sickening thing about it, for him, was that he’d heard the billet doux coming through the letterbox. There was no ring on the doorbell and no knock on the knocker, just the distinctive clunk from the hall of the letterbox flap closing. In the absence of a thud, Roger assumed that it was just the postman dropping more junk leaflets on him and he took no notice at the time.

It wasn’t until 20 minutes later that he looked behind the door and found the form proclaiming that the phantom had called “while he was out”. Which raised the interesting question of how the phantom knew Roger was out if he’d not bothered to check.

Roger actually saw the guy doing the other side of his street a couple of hours later. When he asked the phantom if he still had the item that needed signing for, he was told it was at the sorting office. The phantom also claimed that he’d been knocking on doors all morning. Roger resisted the temptation to deck the guy for telling him such a weak and feeble lie. He just looked at him to tell him he (Roger) knew he was lying and the phantom also knew he was lying. This was where we got to discussing the qualifications of bare-faced liars.

Afterwards, it occurred to me that we, at the Mansion, are protected against the phantom and his allies. Any postman who tries to do a hit-and-run with a form instead of doing his job is liable to find himself the star of CCTV that proves he’s a liar and on the wrong side of a malfunctioning main gate with a lot of wall to climb!

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

Edification, Edification, Edification; or Wee Gordie Broon Explained

You pick up a lot of interesting stuff from casual reading. Yesterday, I happened to be browsing a book on the kings and queens of Scotland (by Richard Oram) and discovered that Gordon Broon had an agenda when he blew the nation’s cash with reckless spending and attempts to buy friends.

Robert the Bruce, Scotland’s “greatest king”, according to his propagandists in later years, did exactly the same thing. He gave away so much land and privileges that he had to go cap in hand to the Scottish people for living expenses, and he became the first Scottish king who was unable to live on his own resources.

No doubt the now reclusive Mr. Broon is hoping the same will happen to him and he’ll be proclaimed as Britain’s greatest prime monster through the efforts of those who profitted from the Broon profligacy with other people’s cash.

Sunday, 24 October 2010

Eyes, what are you seeing!!

I saw a buncha UFOs last night at about 10 o’clock. I thought I was seeing a low-flying plane because, a couple of days ago, I had one practically knocking the chimneys off with its wheels. But there was no sound and there were just red lights, rather than red and green, and they were flickering rather than flashing.

There were four of them, travelling south, widely spaced in a sort of line-astern formation. And they just faded out one by one when they got to around the position of Jupiter, which is very bright in the southern sky at the moment. Minds somewhat blown, my guests and I decided that one of the neighbours had been messing about with a cross between small hot-air balloons and Chinese lanterns. Something which the crew at the Mansion will be doing once they’ve sourced some of them in a range of interesting colours.

Thursday, 21 October 2010

Hope springs eternal

The real winner steps forward and the woman 'whose husband lost the ticket' suddenly realizes it was all a mistake and she wouldn't have been happy anyway if she'd won all that money. So why did you waste two quid, missus?

Apparently, there were 1,000 claims for lost tickets made for this big jackpot. Only a thousand? There were 1,381 claims for lost tickets made in the 4 days after I cashed my ticket in, without publicity, and the announcement that the cash wasn't on offer any more. Which only goes to show that people are more than willing to make fools of themselves if they think there's the smallest chance of pulling off a big swindle.

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

Believe it or what!

A woman in the Midlands reckons she won the £113 million EuroMillions jackpot but she can’t produce the ticket because her husband always takes it off her and he loses everything she gives him. Does that add up? Would any wife in her right mind let her old man take charge of her lottery ticket knowing that he’s 100% dead certain to lose it?

When I won, I knew exactly where the ticket was and I promptly wrote my name and address on it with a fountain pen, so the ink would soak into the paper, and hid it where no burglar would ever find it. And when I went to claim the cash, I put an old, non-winning ticket in my wallet in case I was mugged on the way in. And I almost hired an armed bodyguard; until I realized I should go for inconspicuous.

I thought August was supposed to be the silly season!

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

Don’t Cross The Boss!

“The boy Wayne has a bad leg,” says the manager, Sir A. Ferguson.
“No I don’t,” says the boy Wayne.
Next thing you know, the boy Wayne is being carted off the practice field on a stretcher with a bad leg. That’ll teach him to contradict the boss!
So prophecy or retribution? You choose!

Monday, 18 October 2010

Anything you get for nothing is worth it!

I’ve often wondered why companies offer free antivirus programs. I found out when I clicked on a badger box, which popped up on one of the older PCs, and upgraded the defence system from AVG 9 to AVG 2011. The first thing I noticed was that the boot up went on for AGES! The icons and task bar at the bottom of the desk top usually appear over my brilliant desk top picture quite quickly. With AVG 2011, it was minutes before they arrived. And my Netscape mail program wouldn’t download messages which I knew were on the server (because I went to the website and looked).

Naturally, I dumped the problem on Irwin. He got things working again eventually by booting AVG 2011 into touch and reloading version 9. 2011, he told me, is MicroSoft-style bloatware, unsuitable for the elderly PC, and it doesn’t work with something called Mozilla, which is the heart and soul of Netscape email and its descendant Firefox.

So that explains why there’s a free version of AVG. It’s a vast testing ground involving millions of users with every combination of computer hardware and software under the sun. The freebie customers are there to report problems that need to be fixed for the people with the paid-for version. So it’s sound commercial sense at the back of it, not philanthropy.

Sunday, 17 October 2010

Radio Fun

Those who still listen to the News Quiz on the steam wireless will know that it’s a sort of club for softy lefty comics, who have never got over losing Mrs. Thatcher as prime minister and a target for their bile. But connoisseurs will know that the show is also a source of true comic brilliance. Such as the remark by Andy Hamilton, who deserves at least a knighthood for his services to making the nation laugh.

He announced that he was waiting for the real story of the miners trapped in Chile to come out; like, the 33 were originally 37 but they had to eat 4 of them. Priceless!

Friday, 15 October 2010

2012 reasons for not being there

My lunch guests today were asking me if I'll be shelling out £2,012 for a top-whack ticket for the opening day at the Olympics, which triggered an outbreak of much hollow laughter. A straw poll uncovered the fact that no one around the table planned to watch the opening, either by being there or on TV, and no one would be watching the events, not even to count the empty seats. So it looks like we have another Millennium Dome on our hands thanks to New Labour.

p.s. Nobody realized that yesterday was National Potato Day. But no doubt the quangocrats of the Potato Awareness Council will still be drawing their fat bonuses and expenses.

Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Transport of Choice

Some people find it amusing that I went for a Roller instead of a herd of Ferraris. I have a Roller because I like to travel in comfort. That’s precisely why I didn’t go for the Ferrari option; I didn’t feel an urge to zoom about with my bum scraping along the road. I also have a driver. After all, if you’re seriously rich, that means you don’t have to bother with the driving and you can concentrate on more rewarding things in the spacious back of your Roller.

Sunday, 10 October 2010

Kneecap Parade

Out and about in the Roller, I became aware of hundreds of knees on show on a sunny day with a pretty strong wind blasting. Not just kids; old blokes with grey hair were wearing shorts or jeans sawn off above the knee. Just what the attraction is of bare legs in October escapes me. We seem to have a lot of allegedly mature people around trying to prove how hard they are.

10/10/10? Who cares! Today doesn't feel remotely special.

It seems that caffs and fast food joints are handing out banknotes covered with lethal bugs. Makes you glad you have staff to knock out snacks on the premises.

Saturday, 9 October 2010

Not A Problem

Today's big scare story in the tabloids – mobile phones are so lethal that holding them less than one inch from the human body means instant death! For anyone who's worried, the solution to the problem is simple. You just get rich, you get some staff and you get a member of your staff to stand a safe distance from you with the phone while you use a hands-free headset.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

Desirable Invisibility

Back to the bankers tangentially – the challenge of having lots of serious money is to make it disappear. If it's in a bank, or stocks & shares, or bonds or whatever, the taxman can see the gains easily. The trick is to move it into assets which will gain in value to beat inflation, at the very least, without showing up on the taxman's radar.

Of course, the trick lies in avoiding the shoals of rip-off merchants looking for a rich mug and finding safe havens to stash your alternative to cash. My master plan is to be able to croak with peanuts left visible, and leave the taxman saying, "Hey, that guy had the best part of a hundred million quid. Where's it all gone?" But no one who knows will tell him because the taxman is on everyone's Far Queue list!

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

Shock, Horror vs Dotty Old

You have to laugh at the court system. It’s a joke here but it’s reassuring to know that things are no better abroad and judges are “dotty old” everywhere. In the USA, they give people sentences of hundreds of years “because they can”. In France this week, they went in another direction.

A rogue trader got 5 years (2 suspended, time off for good behaviour means he does about 18 months tops) for exposing his bank to a 50 billion euro risk. He was also ordered to pay €4.9 billion in compensation – which the bank says it won’t try to collect. So that was a waste of time.

Afterthought: Maybe the bank is planning to give the guy his old job back and keep his bonuses for a couple of years.

Tuesday, 5 October 2010


Watching the weekend rain battering and drenching the grounds from the highest window of The Mansion, I began to wonder if I have flood insurance with a company which won’t weasel out of paying. Then I realized I don’t need it.

The trees mask it to a fair degree but the estate is on a shallow hill with The Mansion at the highest point. So everything drains down toward the river, which separates me from the main road, and a lake, the contents of which, my estate manager assures me, can be sold to the farms around me if the weather gets really dry.

So let it rain, I say. I’m not bovvered!

Thursday, 30 September 2010

What's the point?

I took the opportunity to do some TV upgrades when I moved into the mansion. Which raised the question of To HD or Not To HD. Did I want a telly the size of a desktop - an actual desk not the desktop you get on a computer - which I could view from across one of the rooms of the mansion and still read captions on the screen? Or even something the size of a wall? Or would I be better off with a 32" or 36" TV and a comfortable chair about 6 feet away, which was the system I developed for my 25" widescreen TV.

The question prompted some market research on myself. And I found that while I watched some sports coverage of the sort available on HD channels, most of my viewing was of the minor league digital channels. The only time I watch the BBC channels is for Grands Prix and MotoGP, I rarely engage with ITV 1 and Channel 4, but I do watch a fair bit of rubbish on Channel 5.

Of the stuff watched on the minor digital channels, most of them don't have an HD version and quite a lot of the vintage programmes I watch are a 3 x 4 island in the middle of the 9 x 16 widescreen. So my conclusion was that there's no point in going HD and HUGE screen because the content isn't there.

Same with 3D TV, which is being launched with the same sense of optimism as attended the launching of the Titanic. Or Pale Pink Ed, the wrong Miliband. There isn't the content, all the old stuff I watch ain't in 3D and never will be, and you have to wear the stupid glasses, which give you migraines. So if you ever catch me watching TV, I'll be the bloke in the comfy chair parked 6 feet from a 36", non-HD model.

Tuesday, 28 September 2010

Whose cash is it anyway?

So Lord Ashcroft had the good sense to put £17 million out of range of the taxman and saved his heirs and assigns from a tax bill of over 3 million quid when he shuffles off. Good for him. What right does the government have to rob the graves of people who didn’t blow all their money in life, like Gordon bloody Brown on triple steroids, and give the cash to their friends or use it to buy votes? Absolutely none.

Which is why I am making damn sure that my squillions will go to more deserving candidates than the bloody taxman when I exit, worn our by a couple of decades of enjoying myself with serious intent.

Sunday, 26 September 2010

Winners Whether or Not the Wind Blows

For the benefit of those wondering where I’ve been for the last week or so, I’ve been investing some of my millions in the Great Windmill Scam. The level of government subsidies available is truly AWESOME: for construction, power production and the illusion of creating “green” jobs.

Getting in on the ground floor of this racket – before the bubble bursts – is like winning the lottery all over again.

The only cloud on the horizon is the need to keep a close eye on the investment to be ready to get out before the public start refusing to be ripped off by electricity suppliers and the whole deal goes south.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

“You can get anything you want!”

It’s amazing what you can find in someone else’s record collection. Is lordship has hundreds of vinyl LPs, and all the gear to play them freshly fettled up with new drive belts, etc. That’s where I found Alice’s Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie. It’s a hoot! Check it out if you can find it. Is Lordship has 2 versions; the studio version with the Alice’s Restaurant Massacree on one side, and the film soundtrack with a split version; so he must have been impressed by it. The main story is all about crime and law enforcement and the draft in the USA in the 1960s. Great stuff.

Tuesday, 21 September 2010


I have bin commanded by his lordship to pass these pearls on to his adoring public as he’s off enjoying himself ‘somewhere in France’ (if that’s at all possible seeing the Frogs are so stroppy).
   Does anyone feel sorry for Gordon Brown, who invited the Pope to Britain, hoping for a BIG photo-opportunity, only to be booted out of office by an ungrateful nation because he spent all their money and got them so deep into debt, their grandchildren will still be paying it off?
   Sometimes the gods really do manage to grot on someone who really, really deserves it.

Thursday, 16 September 2010

The Gods do grot on the deserving occasionally

You start to think that the Gods might not be as dead as advertised when you consider the fate of the guy in charge of the Income Tax. Last week, Deadleg Dave Hartnett could see nothing wrong with HMRC failing to get tax codes right and taking the wrong amount of tax from anywhere between 6 million and 18 million "customers".

This serial grabber of corporate hospitality even went on TV to say he has nothing to apologize for. Next thing you know, he was running his arse ragged, apologizing to ministers at the Treasury, Parliament and everyone in sight for his arrogance and uselessness. His partner-in-crime, Lesley Strathie, a Dame of the pantomime sort, is still in the arrogance phase, ducking responsibility while talking bollocks about "The Customer Experience" at HMRC. But that might be as far as she gets.

With any luck, the IRA will decide that these two specimens are just as deserving as bankers and blow the pair of them up. Yes, the Gods are definitely still with us, but obviously working only part-time.

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

The March of Technology

Being a man of more leisure than I ever thought possible, I decided to sort out my CD-ROM collection. I’ve amassed a fair number over the years but a lot of them went the way of all those 12" video discs made to celebrate “The Millennium” (as if there was only ever one) by the likes of the BBC, only for the format and the players to vanish, leaving all the information inaccessible.

I was annoyed when I found that a fair number of excellent CD-ROMs wouldn’t run on the combination of hardware and Windows XP offered by the cheap but good PCs I bought from about 2007 on. By then, the older PCs, on which the disks still ran, were limping along and tedious to use.

My new-found leisure has allowed me to screen the collection for those which will still run on an up-to-date PC and do something about making the older PCs work better. The first thing I noticed was that they had Alzheimer’s. Luckily, new coin-cell back-up batteries are readily available at my local hardware shop. Unluckily, they have to be fitted in the most inaccessible part of the motherboard imaginable.

Irwin was able to find me some memory boards for the make-over. It’s truly amazing how much difference doubling the memory of a computer makes. And at the Mansion, I have room to deploy my collection of obsolete PCs and the ability to enjoy the ‘lost’ CD-ROMs on a revived PC which zips along instead of clunking. Super!

Saturday, 11 September 2010

Get In The Queue

I don’t know if he was having me on but we were discussing ordering some stock for the wine cellar, which is HUGE at the mansion, like you’d expect, and Irwin got a phone call. Only it was one of these stupid texts. It was just a capital Q with an arrow pointing to the right, like this: Q-->

Apparently, he’d been winding up one of his mates with some false information and the mate had just found out that his leg was being pulled. And instead of expressing himself verbally, he’d gone for a new symbol, which is supposed to be all the rage with the people who send each other pointless texts.

The symbol, Irwin explained when he’d got over his incredulity at my ignorance, is an invitation to join the “far queue”. Or as Frank Zappa might have put it: “Far queue. Far queue very much!“

The trick is to say it with the right accent and the right degree of conviction and vehemence.

I just thought I’d share that with my adoring public in case there are any like me who refuse to text.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010

NBCN (Not Before the Crack of Noon)

The great thing about not having to work any more is you can do daft things. Like staying up late on Monday nights to watch Monday Night Football matches which you didn’t see the first time around on ESPN. Like the Bears pulling off a shock overtime win against the Vikings, Brett Favre and all. With most of the ads and messing about cut out, so the match rattles along at a reasonable pace.

Like walking into a fancy art gallery and looking at the crap on the walls and knowing you could afford to buy all of it, have a bonfire and do the art world a bit of good without putting a noticeable crimp in your bank account.

Imagine my surprise when I actually saw something I liked about a fortnight after I moved into the redecorated mansion. Grossly overpriced, of course. So I made a point of getting in touch with the artist and offering him 37.5% of the asking price in cash in a padded envelope and not a word to his agent or the gallery. And he went for it. After some token scoffing at the deal. He even delivered the picture himself, all snugged up in bubblewrap with an outer layer of brown paper.

So I now have Sunrise Behind A Half-Open Barn Door installed where the fireplace used to be in the "exercise room". The previous owner had his and hers exercise bikes facing twin widescreen TVs in here, or so the estate agent told me. I've just got a lot of empty space until I think of something else to go in here as well as the picture.

Sunday, 5 September 2010

Loose End & New Stuff

Going back to the memoirs briefly, I think the world should also know my part in saving the world by deflecting 3 killer asteroids and a comet in the 1990s. But seriously, those pictures of the earthquake in New Zealand set me thinking about how many I’ve been in. Would you believe 11? None of any great consequence, though. The 'worst' in this country was being 12 miles or so from the epicenter of one a couple of years ago, which was 5 on the Richter scale. Just a bit of structural damage and nobody killed.

A couple of years before that, I was on a job in Athens when there was a Richter 7 earthquake. Luckily, it was over 100 miles away and it felt no more severe than a good earthquake in England. You were quivered for about 10-15 seconds, you had time to think, "Cool! I’m in an earthquake!" and have a look around to see if lights were swinging and stuff like that. But there was never any sense of, "Oh, sod it! I’m going to die and I still have some money in the bank."

The most surprising picture from New Zealand was the one of the railway lines with side-to-side waves in them, which made them look like the track for a train in a theme park. But if people insist on building them in areas subject to violent geological events, it’s always going to be good for photographers.

Saturday, 4 September 2010

Memories, Memories

I have been somewhat silent this week because I’ve been inspired to work on my memoirs. I’m sure the world will be eager to read how I saved it from the Spanish Armada, the Black Death and Global Warming in the early mediaeval period, and How I Brought Peace To Iraq & Afghanistan Single-Handedly.

I took a break to watch the lunchtime news today, and I was cheered to see that bloke who used to be prime minister (who was sacked a couple of years ago) being shielded from a barrage of eggs and shoes by lots of big blokes with umbrellas.

The BBC was able to round up a bunch of planted stooges(?) to say nice things about the old war criminal and, no doubt, the Blair Broadcasting Company censored anyone who didn’t think he’s wonderful.

I bet the Irish taxpayer will be thrilled to pay the bill for shutting down the centre of Dublin and all those umbrellas.

Monday, 30 August 2010


Just a quick word before I zoom off to bed, having not had that much sleep since Friday. I was quite amused to read that Mr. B. Liar, who used to be prime minister until he was sacked, is buying his 8th or 9th addition to a world property empire.

I had quite a lot of fun wandering around while The Mansion was being redecorated, spying on everyone to make sure they were doing it properly and not bunging the factor a few quid to get away with bodge jobs. I can just see Mrs. Liar doing that to get max. value for the ill-gotten gains.

I pretended to be an IT guy, wandering round with a meter, allegedly measuring radio signal strengths and looking for things that would block a signal. If you look like you’re doing something, you become fairly invisible. Not something Mrs. Liar could manage without some serious disguising!

Luckily, I never came across anyone doing something totally outrageous. Because I’d have had a bit of a problem explaining how I knew something dodgy had gone one. And the only way to get around that might have been to have those ripping me off "taken care of". I hear there are ways for seriously rich people to get that done. I suppose there’s a website for it. There seems to be one for most things.

Saturday, 28 August 2010

Close, But No Cigar For Me

I’ve watched it on TV but I never thought anyone does weather-chasing in this country. But my Gadgets Guy, Steve, put me in touch with Jake to win a bet. Jake has actually got a minivan loaded with radar gear, and he cruises around Britain in his spare time, looking for extreme weather pictures for newspapers, TV and various agencies. During the summer, he also tries to be near anywhere that looks like dropping a tornado.

He got lucky last weekend; he got some fairly profitable pictures of the twister that formed over Stanford-le-Hope in Essex last Saturday, but it didn’t touch down and it did him out of Pictures of Destruction. But he had a real pay-day the following Monday. Lots of wreckage in Great Livermere in Suffolk and he got some excellent live action video of the demolition job.

I’ve been riding around with him for the last few days. No tornadoes but we did see two pretty good waterspouts playing tag on the Channel for about five or ten minutes. Jake was pleased with the video he shot but I'm still hoping to see a decent tornado the next time things look promising.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

That’s Life For You

Is lordship has commanded me to write something today because he’s still off enjoying himself. No, he’s not at a meeting of LWA – Lottery Winners Anonymous for people who’ve won $20 million or more [Life, Season 2, ITV 3, last night] Only in America, eh!
   Is Lordship didn’t tell me what to say, so I guess I’ll just have to busk.
   My uncle has been having a spot of bovver with the goverment, he told me the last time he dropped in (to see if we had too much whisky). He’s recently retired after working for himself for donkey’s years and he used to pay his National Insurance by direct debit. A couple of months after the DWP stopped taking cash off a guy who was 65, he cancelled the direct debit.
   Next thing he knew, the DW bloody P was threatening to send him bills for National Insurance if he didn’t start up the direct debit again. So now, he’s waiting to see if they’ll send him a bill for £0.00 so he can blow up their computer by sending them a cheque for £0.0.
   No wonder the country’s broke if the people running it are so bloody useless.
   I bet that’s more inneresting than anything is lordship’s come up with and I bet he doesn’t read this.


Tuesday, 24 August 2010

Got One Too!

That stuff in the papers about Blair’s missus getting him the sack really pinged my radar. According to the legend, the Wicked Witch of the West got right up the noses of the Labour party by getting the Drowning Street nuclear bunker done up, at great expense to the nation, because she didn’t like the colour. And that threw them all into such a hissy fit that they ganged up on Blair and forced him to tell them when he’d push off.

I’ve got one too - a bunker not a WWotW. Not that it started off as a fallout shelter. According to the archives in my library (a load of stuff abandoned by previous owners), the bunker started off as a root cellar, which was turned into a cess pit. When they got some more modern plumbing installed, it became redundant.

Sometime in the 1930s, the then owner of The Mansion had all the cess cleared out. Later on, he had a roadway built down to an underground car park. This was about the time of the Spanish Civil War and he thought war with Germany was inevitable and he didn’t want the Jerries dropping bombs on his collection of cars.

Come the 1950s, the garage became a fallout shelter. Then, in the late 1990s, it became part of an energy conservation scheme, which can’t have done the last owner much good because he went bankrupt when his Global Warming Scam collapsed about his ears in the Brown recession.

I haven’t really done anything with the bunker yet. I’ve had a look at it, but there’s more than enough space in The Mansion for me, and it’s a bit of a hike to the bunker. Still, it’s always there if the peasants get revolting and I need somewhere to hide out. I wonder what colour the WWotW had hers painted? Mine’s a warmish shade of pastel orange.

Monday, 23 August 2010

Home Base

I found myself experiencing a certain paralysis when the money was in the bank, cleared and available to spend. I didn’t get close to the top end of the miserable pittance the financial advisor reckoned I should trust myself with until I’d become used to having enough cash to splurge and walk away from disasters.

I bought a 26" TV and some DVDs, and that was about it for the first week. Apart from a case of Ballantine’s whisky, which I’ve not seen in the shops for ages, but which I must have been able to buy once because I still have some of the bottles around, loaded down with bits of lead foil from wine bottles (something you don’t get now) and used as book-ends.

The mansion was something the FA didn’t choke on, to my surprise. He even thought it would be a good investment. 8 bedrooms, not counting the staff quarters and 14 main rooms. I guess I just wanted to be able to walk ten yards indoors without tripping over furniture or banging into a wall. It’s not quite up to the Nickelback song “Rockstar” - a bathroom I can play baseball in, and so on - but it’s a good step up from a suburban semi.

Sunday, 22 August 2010

Ground Zero

Okay, some of the craziness has worn off and my Reality Management Counsellor reckons this will help to get some things straight in my head and keep me within a hoot & a holler, if not spitting distance, of reality.

Doing a blog, he reckons, is a bit like going to an AA meeting. Not that I've ever been to one, but I watch plenty of rubbish on the TV and some characters are never out of them! Inmates of everything from alleged comedies to cop shows. So you'd expect the TV mob to get the look and feel of them approximately right.

Hi, my name is Xavier and I'm awesomely rich. It is now 165 days since the guys at Camelot handed me a ridiculously large cheque (size of the piece of paper-wise) for a ridiculously huge amount of cash. And I'm just about getting to the point where I can sit back and enjoy it without people bugging me for decisions all the time. Like, "Am I sure I don't want to buy a decent car instead of that ratty old banger?"

Spoke too soon. Here's Irwin to tell me the IT guy has got a problem with jumping someone else's IP address so no one can work out where I'm sending this stuff from. So do I persuade the guy I've got now to get on with the job or hire someone else? Decisions, bloody decisions.