Head Rambles

Grandad February 23rd, 2007

It is hard to practice what you preach.

For years now the E.U. has been telling us what is good for us.

They told us that carrots had to be straight, and eggs had to be a certain size. Then they started getting bolder, and began messing with our laws.

That’s fair enough. If a country has bad laws and is out of line with the rest of Europe, than it should be asked to change.

Now they are entering into the anti-smoking thing. They want to introduce a continent-wide ban.

So far, Ireland, Scotland, Italy, Malta, Belgium and Sweden have signed up. England is about to join the Happy Gang. Even France - that great bastion of smokers - has thrown in the towel.

So the E.U. decided that they should lead the way and introduce a smoking ban in their buildings in Brussels and Strasbourg from the 1^st of January. They should set an example. They should show how easy it is. The rest of the E.U. will look to them as a shining beacon of health.

The ban lasted 43 days.

They couldn’t take it. They revolted in their masses.

“It is right for the Plebs and The Great Unwashed, but it is not right for us” they cried.

“It is grand in theory, but we cannot take it” they screamed.

In protest, they all lit up. Even non-smokers were lighting up. Several were reported to have died from asphyxiation, and dozens more non-smokers became addicted for life. The plume of smoke could be seen for miles.

They repealed the ruling. The E.U. buildings are once more a smoker’s haven.

“The rule was not achievable,” a spokeswoman for Hans-Gert Poettering, the parliament’s new president, was quoted as saying.

The rest of us must do as they say, not as they do.

• Politics , Rants , Smoking
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Grandad February 22nd, 2007

Herself came in and switched on the radio.

She had been listening in the other room, and as soon as the subject came up, she thought of me. She came rushing in with cries of “you must listen to this”. What does it say about our relationship? Your guess is as good as mine.

It was all about bowels!

It was interesting all right.

Apparently some people have “discontented bowels”. Franky if I were sat on all day and stuffed full of sh*t then I would be discontented. So how do you make your bowel contented? Apparently one way is to eat “slippery elm”. So the poor trees that survived Dutch Elm Disease are now to be chewed to death by neurotics? I’m just going to play classical music to mine. That should calm it down a bit.

And you have to give you bowel exercise.

This I refuse to do. I think the sight of me walking down the road with thirty odd feet of bowel trailing along behind me would be too much for the locals.

They talked about “irritable bowel syndrome“. Now this one, I can relate to. Mine often shouts a lot, particularly after a vindaloo or a few Guinness. I just tell it to shut up. Herself does too! It usually works.

Irritable Bowel?

The one thing that put my nerves on edge was when they started talking about “flora” in our bowels. Now I didn’t know I had a garden up there. Are there weeds I should be tending to? Is there a lawn I have to mow? Do I have to employ a gardener? ["Just crawl up my backside and do whatever has to be done"] Am I going to start sprouting sunflowers out my arse? Does Alan Titchmarsh know about this?

All in all, it was an unnerving programme.

They suggested we go for a rectal examination.

I will in my hole.

• Around the house
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Grandad February 21st, 2007

Why has our culture changed so radically in the last fifty years?

When I was young, when we weren’t at school, we played outdoors. If it was raining, we played in someones garage or garden shed. The world was one great adventure playground. We used to make our own toys. Hurling sticks became rifles, and the ultimate was a homemade soap-cart.

I grant you there wasn’t as much traffic then, so we could play on the street and would only have to dodge the odd car but that apart, the physical world is much the same.

But it is different now. You don’t see many children on the streets. I haven’t seen a soap-cart in decades. I haven’t seen a game of marbles or a game of chasing. All I have seen is shiftless kids either hanging around aimlessly or kicking a ball around.

There is only one thing I can think of that has caused this radical change in society.

Television.

There are several things wrong with television.

It provides you with a means to sit and do absolutely nothing. You don’t have to think. You don’t have to use your imagination.

And the programmes show you a world that, in the main don’t exist. They show you happy couples living in beautiful houses, and they all have great jobs and they are all so happy. So you begin to think to yourself “why isn’t my life like this?”. Or they show you fantastic foreign scenery and tell you how wonderful it is there, and you say to yourself “I want to be there”. In other words, television breeds discontent.

Television should be a means to tell you about the world. Instead, it has become the world. People get upset if their favourite soap character gets sent to prison. They rant and rail if their favourite is voted out of Big Brother. They can’t wait to tell you all about their favourite programme over coffee in the canteen.

And then of course, there is the advertising.

This is not designed to inform you about a product. This is designed to worry you and make you discontented, so you are only going to be happy again if you buy their product. [This incidentally, is not a theory - it is a proven method of advertising]

They tell you your house is crawling with germs and bacteria, and the only way to get rid of them is a large bottle of Splurge. Or if your children don’t take a certain type of yogurt they are going to grow to be stunted unhealthy runts. It is all a load of b*ll*x.

So advertising breeds discontent.

And the only way to satisfy this discontent is to try to make your house into a film set, or drive the latest SUV or buy whatever product is going to save you from a certain and nasty death. So you spend large amounts of money buying these things you don’t need. And you get into debt. And the advertisers come along and say “What? Will no one lend you money? We will lend you shed-loads more. Just phone 555-555-555“, so you get even further in debt.

So television is turning the world into a society of debt-ridden, scared, discontented and unimaginitive people.

I’d rant on a bit more, but my favourite programme is about to start.

• Television
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Grandad February 20th, 2007

I meant to write another post yesterday

I meant to write to congratulate all those who made it to the Irish Blog Awards shortlists.

But the family got in the way. They decided to make yesterday special, because it was my birthday. And I wasn’t allowed near my keyboard.

They did make the day special. My daughter brought the grandchildren for the day, and she insisted on doing all the cooking and washing up. She made a curry. It was probably the best curry I have ever had [and I've had a few]. It was all made with original ingredients. None of your Sharwood’s curry powders for her!

It was a lovely day. The grandchildren were in great form, and we had lots of laughs. And my granddaughter gave me big hugs and kisses which are worth all the birthday presents in the world.

But the curry gave me wind. A sign of a good curry. And the wind was, shall we say, potent. So I wasn’t allowed go to bed until herself was asleep, because she said I was obnoxious and would keep her awake. So I chatted to my daughter into the small hours. It was very cosy, though we sat well apart.

And I am now one year nearer to the free bus travel [which they are extending to the whole country], and the free TV licence, electricity and the rest. So life isn’t all bad.

But to get back to what I was going to say. I was going to [and still do] congratulate all the Award Bloggers. I’m delighted to see that all the people I voted for got through. It shows I have good taste.

Some people expressed surprise that I didn’t make it. People like Michele and Dario [who's site lives up to its name!]. And lots of people sent kind e-mails. Thank you all. I’m not that surprised. I am such a newcomer to all of this, that to get five nominations is more than award enough for me. And I would have lowered the tone of the ceremonies anyway.

I would like to have gone to the ceremonies, but the old bones [sorry Grannymar for borrowing your blog title] would have complained. I would like to put a face to the names of all the people who I have been in contact with. So far I have only met one [you know who you are!].

Maybe next year? As long as it doesn’t coincide with my birthday?

• Internet , Rambles
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Grandad February 19th, 2007

I like Cully and Sully pies.

I like their name - it’s quirky. But I like their pies better. If you have to buy a ready made pie then they are hard to beat. And I expect them to deliver me a major supply for mentioning that.

There is also a publican down the country [somewhere] who likes them too.

And he is apparently outside the Cully and Sully delivery area.

Our publican friend was desparate for his pies and he had to find a solution. And he did.

Cully and Sully now deliver the pies to the publican’s local Garda station. They bung them in the back of a squad car and deliver them to the pub.

I’m delighted for the publican as he and his customers are getting their pies. I’m delighted for Cully and Sully as they continue to grow in the Irish ready made food market.

But most of all, I’m glad our crime wave is over. The last criminal has been put behind bars. No one else is breaking the law. There is not a single motorist driving recklessly.

I feel sorry for the Gardai as they now have nothing to do.

Except for the Gardai in one station who have found an excellent use for the states resources.

Do you think I’m making this up?

• Cully & Sully , Rants
• Comments(15)

Grandad February 18th, 2007

There’s a big fuss going on about the cost of a tribunal.

Now I don’t really follow these things, but from what I can gather, the judge who is running the tribunal says the cost will be no more than €300 million [which is quite a lot].

But the minister says the cost is one billion [which is quite a lot more] and he is outraged.

I would have thought the judge would have known a little bit more than the minister about this.

Imagine the scenario -

A bloke has been having a wild night with his mates in the pub and it’s getting near closing time.

“Hey barman” says the customer, “any idea what the final tab is going to be?”

“Well” says the barman, “they haven’t finished drinking yet, but it’s near closing so it won’t be more than three hundred.”

“A thousand euro” screams the customer. “That is outrageous”

“No” says the barman, “three hundred”

“A thousand is a ridiculous amount. I’m going to write to the papers and I’m going to complain to Joe Duffy”

“It is definitely three hundred” says the barman, “and probably a lot less. But three hundred at tops”

“How can you possibly justify charging a thousand for a few drinks? This is madness. I’m writing to my TD. I’m going to picket the pub. I’m going to go on hunger strike”

“But I told you it won’t be more than three hundred. They haven’t ordered takeouts yet but it still won’t be any more. I’ve allowed for that”

“How can you live with yourself charging a thousand for a night out with the lads? It is obscene. I will make this the talking point of the nation”

And so on, etcetera.

I would have thought the barman would have a better idea of the final bill. I would say the customer was losing the plot.

But what do I know about these things?

• Politics , Rambles
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