THE JOYS OF SAT-NAV

It doesn’t seem like a week ago that we went to the Chelsea Flower Show, the start of that quintessentially English happening known as “The Season”. And we did it in style, with “hospitality” of coffee and pastries on arrival, a three-course lunch with fine wine, afternoon tea and copious amounts of champagne, Pimms, coffee and what-have-you throughout the day.

Not for us the trauma of having to queue for the loo and a cup of tea. Oh no, we had our own private loos and waitress service in our little haven of tranquillity. Occasionally we even ventured out into the mob to marvel at the gardens and plants. That’s the way to do it. Next year I want to “do” hospitality at Henley, another event in “The Season”. Well I can dream can’t I?

Back to earth again saw me a few days later enjoying the eccentricities of a sat-nav that had directed sporty grandson-in-law and me (the driver) into a pedestrian precinct driving very slowly behind a blind man who was tap, tap, tapping his way along the middle of the road, totally unaware that we were impatiently following. You couldn’t make it up could you?

And something else that you couldn’t make up, (or wouldn’t want to!) is that one of the very ordinary village schools where sporty grandson-in-law works as a coach has to employ a very unordinary professional restrainer because some of the children are so disruptive. What on earth is happening to us? No, don’t get me started again.

So - Gordon Brown wants MPs to agree to a legally binding code of conduct as part of a plan to "clean-up" Parliament. Clean up Parliament? Ha, bloody, ha. Like he didn't create, condone and cause the problem in the first place!

And finally … the original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.

OK, THE LAST FINAL, FINAL SAY

Don't ask me why, but this mornings lastest exepenses scandal revalation really made me madder than most. It was the fact that MP's, apparently, are allowed to claim accountancy and legal fees for their own personal tax affairs.

The way that is works in the "real world" that I inhabit is that we pay an accounant to submit our company's tax returns and we occasionally have to pay for legal advice, both legitimate business expenses.

However, I pay an accountant to submit my own returns out of my own money. I do this for one reason. I don't use my company's money as my own personal money pit and if I did it would be treated as income and taxed. Are MP's being taxed? I doubt it.

But, there are some good things happening in the world. I liked the story of the old lady of 109 who complained to the Queen that in all the birthday cards she had received since she reached the ripe old age of 100 the Queen has been wearing the same yellow dress. So, Prince William stopped by to apologise for his granny and promised that in future she would change her outfit. Ah!

MY FINAL WORD ON PATHETIC POLITICIANS

Five surgeons from big cities are discussing who makes the best patients to operate on.

The first surgeon, from New York, says, "I like to see accountants on my operating table because when you open them up, everything inside is numbered."

The second, from Chicago , responds, "Yeah, but you should try electricians! everything inside them is colour coded."

The third surgeon, from Dallas , says, "No, I really think librarians are the best, everything inside them is in alphabetical order"

The fourth surgeon, from Los Angeles chimes in: "You know, I like construction workers... Those guys always under stand when you have a few parts left over."

But the fifth surgeon, from Washington, DC shut them all up when he observed: "You're all wrong.................. politicians are the easiest to operate on. There's no guts, no heart, no balls, no brains and no spine, and the head and the ass are interchangeable.

....and while I'm in a pissy mood - on to the NHS and the EMERGECY follow up of OG's suspected TIA (aka migraine). He received an appointment for the promised doppler scan and as instructed presented himself at the designated clinic to be told that the doctor was running 2 hours late. As instructed OG re-presented himself again two hours later, saw the doctor, who looked at the brain scan, scratched his head and said he that the result was not conclusive he would need to have another one. I asked OG "What about the doppler then?" "Oh, I forgot to ask". Right!

This Monday he received an appointment letter to see the doctor again on 9th June and the next day an appointment for a HEART scan on the 15th June. OG already has an appointment to see his cancer surgeon on 15th June so he 'phoned, as instructed, to say he couldn't keep the appointment for the HEART scan and another appointment was re-arranged for 27th JULY. Are you with me so far? So......on 9th June he will see the doctor to discuss the brain scan than hasn't been arranged and on 27th July will go for a HEART scan that hasn't been requested. In the meantime, when do they propose to do the doppler?

I've got a good plan, lets pour more of our borrowed money into this black hole of a money pit!

And finally ... never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative.

SAME OLD, SAME OLD

Oliver Cromwell's Speech on the Dissolution of the Long Parliament
Given to the House of Commons 20 April 1653

It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonored by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice; ye are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government; ye are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of pottage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money.

Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? Ye have no more religion than my horse; gold is your God; which of you have not barter'd your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth?

Ye sordid prostitutes have you not defil'd this sacred place, and turn'd the Lord's temple into a den of thieves, by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation; you were deputed here by the people to get grievances redress'd, are yourselves gone!

So! Take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the name of God, go!

MOOD RING

My husband, being unhappy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods.




We've discovered that when I'm in a good mood it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his fuc*ing forehead.

Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond.

And finally ..... there are two theories to arguing with a woman - neither one works.

DOCTOR, MY BRAIN HURTS

"Ann"
"What?"
"Where are you?"
"Upstairs"
"You'll have to come down"
Shit, I was 15 minutes of swearing my way through a call centre maze and was just about to speak to a human being.
"What is it?"
"Come down"
Very ungraciously I stomped my way down the stairs. He was sitting on a chair looking dreadful.
"I need help".
Suddenly all my caring and practical instincts kicked in - big time!
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, I can't use my arm". Then his leg went numb, the side of his face dropped and he started slurring his speech. The TV infomercial of the man having a stroke flashed into my mind and I bundled him into the car, mind racing - doctors or hospital -which? I plumped for the doctor because it's nearest.

To cut a long story short, we were immediately seen by the doctor who, on examing him, 'phoned the hospital to get him admitted. The 'phone was answered but put down again. After several minutes the doctor said "I can hear them speaking, but them seem to have laid the 'phone down on the desk" She re-dialed but because they had the 'phone off the hook the line was busy.
Tongue in cheek I said "Good job it's not an emergency then!"
She laughed nervously, "It IS an emergency"
"Look, why don't you hold on for them and I'll drive him over there now"
"Good idea, go straight there and if he gets worse on the journey stop the car and call an ambulance".

Well, OG, being OG, insisted that we call into the house to pick up various bits and bobs that he needed to take with him.

To cut a long story short (again) by the time we got to the hospital he was displaying all signs of the episode being a migraine but they fast tracked him, did a brain scan and a blood test, found he didn't have a brain but the blood tests were fine and after an afternoon of him sleeping and me eating my way out of the problem we were allowed home in time for tea. Too much excitement for two Senior Citizens.

As my friend JeanGenius would say "Another Ho! Hum! day in paradise".

CHELSEA FLOWER SHOW HERE WE COME

OG just reminded me of the day that I was about leave to spend summer in the Alps. He was working on my daughter's swimming pool that day. To help me cope with impending retirement I started writing this blog and had jokingly called my co-workers "the bloodless bottom line committee". Before setting off I called into the office to make sure everything was OK to be met by a maelstrom of PMS women wailing and gnashing their teeth. I had disrepected them. I couldn't believe it. Humour, joke, but they wouldn't be pursuaded. I dash over to consult with a muddy OG. I said I had better not go, he said "nonsense, leave it to me". He calmed things down alright by reminding them that I'm insane and shouldn't be taken seriously. Job done.

Perversly, since this happened and they understand how the blog works they complain that I never write about them. OG said that they missed their opportunity for fame. Oh we do have fun in our office and the crazy thing is that all these years later I am still not completely retired! That'll learn 'em.

But that was then and this is now. In a couple of weeks I go to the Chelsea Flower Show with OG's first wife, their daughter and my mad mate JeanGenius whose claim to fame is that she was the youngest female officer in the Royal Navy. An odd assortment of people you might think and you would be right. The thing that we have in common is that we all enjoy badmouthing OG and appreciate a good drink. So on May 23rd we take the train up to London for a VIP day out. My step-daughter read that it would be best to take a cagoule but I said "if it rains I ain't going to step outside that VIP marquee for anyone, just pour me another drink". Should be fun.

And finally ... solution to the Global Financial Crisis?

It is August. In a small town on the South Coast of France, holiday season is in full swing, but it is raining so there is not too much business happening. Everyone is heavily in debt. Luckily, a rich Russian tourist arrives in the foyer of the small local hotel. He asks for a room and puts a Euro100 note on the reception counter, takes a key and goes to inspect the room located up the stairs on the third floor.

The hotel owner takes the banknote in hurry and rushes to his meat supplier to whom he owes E100.

The butcher takes the money and races to his wholesale supplier to pay his debt.

The wholesaler rushes to the farmer to pay E100 for pigs he purchased some time ago.

The farmer triumphantly gives the E100 note to a local prostitute who gave him her services on credit.

The prostitute goes quickly to the hotel, as she owed the hotel for her hourly room use to entertain clients.

At that moment, the rich Russian is coming down to reception and informs the hotel owner that the proposed room is unsatisfactory and takes his E100 back and departs.

There was no profit or income. But everyone no longer has any debt and the small town people look optimistically towards their future.

COULD THIS BE THE SOLUTION TO THE Global Financial Crisis? Or, is there a catch here ?!!