Archive for February, 2011

Needling Sandy

February 28th, 2011

I had to bring Sandy to the vet today.

She wanted to drive, but it was my turn so she had to make do with the passenger seat.  I couldn’t have let her drive anyway, as then I would have to tell her where to go, and I know she would have refused.

I parked at the vet’s, and Sandy gave me her usual “so you’re going to leave me in the fucking car again, huh?” look, so she was pleasantly surprised when I clipped her lead to her collar.  She hopped out of the car, and merrily enjoyed the plethora of delicious smells around the car park.

Then we got to the vet’s door.

There is only one thing Sandy hates more than fireworks, and that’s a visit to the vet.  She planted her four paws and refused to budge.  I had to slide her the rest of the way.

We had to wait a wee while as an emergency had come in.  Apparently a dog had eaten a bottle cap, and it was disagreeing with him.  Fucking idiot!  Why couldn’t he use a bottle opener like our Sandy does?  She has  more respect for her teeth than to open beer bottles with them.

We eventually got to see the vet.  Once again, I had to slide Sandy into the surgery on the end of her lead.  Now I know why vets have such highly polished floors.

It was a simple visit.  All that was required was a simple blood test to confirm that she has caught rabies.  She even had a wee shave for her troubles.  They had to clear a small patch on her leg to insert the needle.  I could tell she would have preferred a Brazilian, but tough – I was paying so I decided what was shaved.

We are back home now.  I let Sandy drive to cheer her up.  Now I have to write up a sign for the front gate.

“DANGER   Rabid Dog”.

Incidentally…. if a veterinarian fought in a war would he then become a vetvet?

The party is over

February 27th, 2011

Happy days!

This election is the most significant in Irish history.

The most corrupt of the Irish political parties has almost been eradicated.  It has been an absolute bloodbath for Fianna Fail and I couldn’t be happier for them.  And to add a little cherry to the top of the cake, the Green Party is no more.  They have been wiped from the political landscape and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer bunch of wankers and cunts.

All the people who you have heard me rail against are gone and consigned to the dustbin of history with the sole exception of Micheal Martin.  Cowen, Hanafin, coughlan, Mad Cow Harney, Gormless, Ryan and all their fucking colleagues are no more, and may they rot.

With a bit of luck, neither Fianna Fail nor the Greens will ever recover.  They have been roundly hammered for their incompetence and their treachery.  As I write, Fine Gael and Labour have 100 seats between them.  Fianna Fail have 17 and the Greens have none, which gives an idea of the devastation.

I don’t care about Fine Gael or Labour manifestos.  They would be very hard pressed to top the efforts of the outgoing lot for sheer stupidity and incompetence, so things have to improve.

Yes.  Truly a good day for Ireland.

There is however one big problem.

Who the fuck am I going to rant about now?

A new start

February 25th, 2011

Better late than never?

Usually by this time I have schlobbed something up onto the site.  Today being Election Day, it turned out to be a very busy day however and my time was sorely stretched.

It was an early start as I had a load of Polling Stations to get through.  I am a great believer in the old philosophy of ‘Vote early – Vote often”.  By late afternoon however I was beginning to feel my age, and decided it was time for a coffee.

Today was my first visit this year to the coffee shop, and I must say it was very pleasant with bright spring sunshine and not too cool.  The birds sang their hearts out and Sandy chased a cat.  Perfect Spring Peace.  It really felt like winter is finally behind us and we have a bright new future to look forward to.

The only blot on an otherwise spotless day was when a passing personage greeted me with a loud “Howya Mick”.

Who the fuck is this Mick?

Something will have to be done about him.

A case for lobotomy

February 24th, 2011

Last night, I saw the brain-dead.

I was watching a news programme as they did a final wind up of the general election as today is Moratorium Day, and tomorrow is the election itself.

The Great Unwashed were being asked about their opinions of the parties on offer and the general consensus was that Fianna Fail are going to get a hammering.  This disappointed me a little, I must confess.  I don’t want Fianna Fail to get a hammering.  I want them to be totally obliterated off the political landscape.  Neither Fianna Fail nor the Greens deserve a single vote, and I would go so far as to say that a vote for either is an act of treason.

They interviewed one woman.   She dithered and doddered and said she really wasn’t so sure about Labour or Fine Gael.  The then perked up and said that Micheal Martin had a nice face so she will probably vote Fianna Fail.

So there you have it.  A micro-encapsulation of all that is wrong with Ireland today.  A fucking dimwit who is going to vote for the party that bankrupt our country and sold us out to the EU, and she is going to do so because Micheal Martin ‘has a nice face’.

Words really do fail me.  Have they learned nothing over the past two years?  Have they really believed the lies and obfuscation of the traitors who destroyed our country?  That woman and her ilk are just as responsible for our catastrophic situation as the politicians themselves.

I don’t care if the alternatives are confusing.  I don’t care if the alternatives aren’t much better.  The fact is that they are alternatives, and they cannot be as bad as the incumbents.  And if people can’t bring themselves to vote for an alternative government then they shouldn’t vote at all.

But voting for Fianna Fail because Micheal Martin ‘has a nice face’?

God give me fucking strength.

Blowing a fuse

February 23rd, 2011

Every now and then I am plunged into darkness.

Of course, that is a metaphorical darkness, as it is full daylight and there are no lights on; but if there were lights on, and it was night time, I would be in darkness.  What actually happens is that everything suddenly powers down and if it weren’t for the battery in this machine, I would be fucked. All my hard work would be lost, and posterity would be the great loser.

What happens is that a fuse blows.

It used to be a 16 amp fuse but I got tired of replacing them so I moved up to a 20 amp.  That blew regularly so now I’m on the 25 amp version.  Next stop is a cut-down six inch nail.

I don’t know why it happens.  I don’t have much running off that circuit, apart from a deep freeze, my wireless network, my laptop, the television, the audio system I hooked up to the television, my router, my XBox [hah!  Bet you didn’t know I had one of them?], my printer, a couple of hard drives and a few other things besides. 

And there is the shed.

I have noticed that there is a strange coincidence.  Whenever a fuse blows, it seems to coincide with herself having a lie-in.  I let her have one of them every now and then, as I find that sleep is great for a hangover.  So maybe the blown fuse is something to do with herself being in bed?

What the fuck can she be at that she is blowing fuses?

Quite honestly, there are some things that are best left to the imagination.

And there are some things that are best not imagined at all.

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