Head Rambles

Grandad May 31st, 2009

We have a problem from a little pervert this morning, who wishes to remain anonymous.  Frankly, I would wish to remain anonymous too.

I got a call from the bank today that told me my credit card had been
used illegally by some “less than reputable websites”.
I was shocked to hear this, but relieved that the bank had at least
caught this problem and had put a hold on all transactions until they
had sorted it out.

That’s all good news.

Here’s the bad news.

The site that was “less than reputable” was actually one of my
favourite lesbian equestrian specialty sites and now my subscription
has been cancelled due to my credit card being denied.

Who do I fess up to, the bank or the lovely people at saddleup.net?

Dear Sheepshagger,

First of all, I would like to sympathise with your problem. The illegal use of credit cards is a major problem on the Interweb, as I have found to my cost. Many of my cards have been stopped in the past, which is very inconvenient as it necessitates inventing stealing cloning borrowing new ones all the time.

With regard to that web site you mention, I am surprised that you dare mention it by name.  It is a filthy perverted site, which displays the most revolting videos [My favourite is ‘Suzy mounts the Stallion’. What’s yours?].

I can imagine your embarrassment at having to contact the bank or site, so I would suggest you do neither.  I am generous to a fault, and am prepared to let you use my subscription if you wish?

I hope that will solve your problem, Maxi?

Grandad

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Grandad May 30th, 2009

The Irish are the greatest shower of whingers.

We spend most of the year griping about the weather, which is fair enough because it is usually grey, cold and raining.

Out of the blue [sic] a fine spell comes along.

The temperature crawls above freezing for a few days, the sky turns an unnatural shade of blue and we are subjected to a strange phenomenon called sunshine.

I like this weather.  I like being able to discard layers of clothing.  I like being able to switch off the central heating.  I like being able to wander around my estate without worrying about rising damp in my legs.

Within two days of the start of a fine spell, you start to hear them -

• We could do with some rain for the garden.
• Jayzus, but it’s too hot.
• This heat is killing me.
• When is this heat going to end?

Shower of fucking tossers.

It being the weekend, of course about ten million people are going to climb into their cars and head for the beaches.  They will never get there, because they will spend the day stuck in traffic along with all the other nine hundred and ninety nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine people.  Eventually, they will give up and go home and spend the rest of the week bitching about the miserable weekend they had, and the appalling state of our roads.

My advice is to make hay while the sun shines.  Get out there and burn yourself to a frazzle [but just avoid the beaches].  Get yourself a grand dose of melanoma so that when the miserable weather returns [which it will], you will have a little reminder of the fine spell.

I’m heading up the hill tops.  This is great weather for sport.  I love the rustle of the breeze and the smell of heather.  I love the call of the skylark and the scream of injured tourists.

I never complain about fine weather.

It brings out the visitors in their droves.

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Grandad May 29th, 2009

I have been looking forward to this day for a long time.

Ten years in fact.

You see, Herself developed a fondness for the Late Late Show back in the glory days when it was inventing sex and generally causing outrage.

Then The Plank took over, but for some reason her fascination didn’t dwindle that much.  Now she hates The Plank almost as much as I do, but every Friday night she has this strange compulsion to switch over ‘just to see what’s on’.  When she does switch over it is nearly always The Plank making a complete arse of himself with some incredibly boring twat, but that doesn’t stop her doing it.

There have been many Friday evenings where the basball bat met the frying pan in a struggle for the remote control, and I suppose those fun days are over now.

Today, The Plank walks.

It is truly a momentous occasion for Irish Television, and for myself, as I will finally be able to come off my Friday doses of Prozac and Valium. 

I will possibly even watch the last show.

I know it is going to have an astronomically high cringe factor, and doubtless lots of people are going to sing Plank’s praises.  However I know that they are all just saying that for the cameras, and that underneath, they are as glad to see the back of him as I am.

We have yet to see what kind of fist young Twiglet Tubridy will make of it.  He too will probably make a hames of the whole thing.  Unfortunately, I shall miss his baptism as I shall be out of the country in September.

I shall miss The Plank.

His very presence raised the standards of all other programmes.

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Grandad May 28th, 2009

Damn, but it’s warm.

I bought one of those garden thermometers that show maximum and minimum temperatures.  I thought I put it in a shaded place in the garden, but I looked at it this morning and it had hit 32 degrees.  So either the sun caught it, or Sandy has been sitting on it again.

I’m sitting here wondering what to do.

I have some work to do for a bloke who wants a whole lot of stuff finished by the weekend.  I’m too hot for that.

There is a tree needs cutting down.  I really couldn’t be bothered getting out all the equipment to do that.

There is a lot of grass that needs cutting.  It’s too hot for that, but anyway, I have enough of a supply for a day or two.

I suppose I could sit out in the sun?  Nah!  I’m not the sitting-in-the-sun type of person.

I could get out my muncher and get rid of a pile of stuff in the garden, but that too is hot work, so I’ll probably end up just dumping the pile into the neighbour’s land, which I should have done in the first place.

I might wander over to our K8’s house.  She just phoned me to say that they are between the airport and the house and will be home soon.  Hopefully they will have a large stash of duty free, and maybe an exotic alternative to my home grown?  But there again, she’ll have holiday photographs, so I’ll give that a miss.

Bugger.

I think I’ll go back to bed.

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Grandad May 27th, 2009

In 2002 the government signed into law one of the most underhanded corrupt acts in the history of the state.

The full ramifications of this act are only coming to light now with the publication of the Ryan Report on Institutional Child Abuse.

Much is being made in the media at the moment about the cap placed on the Church’s financial liability, and this indeed is a cause for great concern.  Through lying and conniving the Church has limited its liability to less than ten percent of the total cost.

There is a clause in the act though that causes me far more concern.

Under the terms of the act, Section 26, Paragraph 6 states that

A person shall not publish any information concerning an
application or an award made under this Act that refers to any other
person (including an applicant), relevant person or institution by
name or which could reasonably lead to the identification of any
other person (including an applicant), a relevant person or an institution
referred to in an application made under this Act.

In other words, no claimant may disclose the name of any abuser.

As I write, the government and the Church are ducking and weaving doing everything in their power to evade their responsibilities.  The government are refusing to review the act and are coming up with every excuse imaginable to let the Church off the hook, while in the meantime the Church is frantically shifting its assets and hiding behind every law and excuse that it can find.

I was led to understand that the law is there to protect the rights of the individual.  Here we have a law which not only removes rights from the individual but actually goes so far as to protect the guilty.  Under the terms of the act, it is extremely difficult to bring the guilty to justice.

It bears repeating here that we are not talking about petty crime here.  We are talking about paedophiles and sadists, who abused children systematically over a sixty year period.  These bastards raped and tortured, and in some cases killed children and are now being sheltered and protected by the so called ‘Catholic’ institutions.

If there is to be any justice, these criminals and those who shelter them should be dragged from wherever they are hiding, and they should face the full rigours of the law.  Age or infirmity should be no excuse.  Did they worry about the age or health of their victims?

If there is to be any closure for the victims, the institutions should feel the full wrath of the people of Ireland, and every last perpetrator should rot in prison.

-oOo-

Much was made yesterday of a clip on the Internet.  It is an extract from the RTE programme ‘Questions & Answers’.  I saw it go out on Monday night, and the following speech left me breathless.  It brought me to tears.  It is probably the most powerful broadcast I have ever seen.

If you haven’t already seen it, take a look.

And then tell me if the government or the Catholic Church have a shred of decency or morality left.

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