2011 March | Head Rambles

Archive for March, 2011

A problem drinker

Grandad March 14th, 2011

What the fuck is it with the Queer of England and money?

I don’t know what her annual pocket money is but it runs into millions, yet she still wants more. She doesn’t even pay tax on it as far as I know. What the fuck does she do with it all? Stranger still is the fact that she doesn’t carry money around with her, so how the hell does she spend it?

Her family is just as bad. I believe Yer Wan Ferguson has notched up an overdraft in seven figures too, and she isn’t even in the family any more, so it must be contagious.

Lizzie is supposed to be dropping over for a visit this year. To be honest I couldn’t give a flying fuck whether she comes or not, except for one thing – apparently it is going to cost us between eight and ten million. For fuck’s sake! Can she not pay for her own hotel bills and petrol and all that stuff? I know of quite a few Bed & Breakfasts that she could stay in that charge considerably less than a million a night.

I am partial to a holiday myself. Sometimes I head off for a week, and sometimes I head off for four or five weeks. I can say with my hand on my heart that my wee holiday has never cost me more than a million and that includes everything including drink. So what the hell is Lizzie going to do that costs ten million? Is she going to go on an almighty bender? Even allowing for hotel prices, that represents about two million pints of stout, which is a bender to end all benders. Even I am not in that league. I don’t know if anyone ever told her but a binge of two million pints could indicate a wee bit of a problem. She needs help.

I don’t know exactly when she is coming and therefore I can’t say where I will be. All I can say is that if she wants to meet me, she’ll have to call here, because I don’t go anywhere for someone I have never met.

I’ll tell you one thing though -

If she calls into the pub in the village, she can fucking pay for her own.

Exercise

Grandad March 13th, 2011

I have decided I need more exercise.

Apart from tramping the mountaintops and whacking a few tourists, I am a fairly sedentary person. I need to improve my blood circulation and generally tone up with a view to living that little bit longer. At my age I am only too aware that anything that can delay that fateful day is good.

I have searched for a suitable exercise regime, and have found quite a few. Most recommend around thirty minutes a day of aerobic exercise, but that sounds a bit like hard work. I am not one to enjoy a good sweat.

I persevered with my search and finally found what I am looking for.

It is going to be very tough going. I am going to have to discipline myself to carry out this regime every day. There may be days when I may feel like resting but I am determined that this shall not happen. The sacrifice will be well worth while for an extra five years of lifespan. I may even go that little bit extra to make it six years.

This is my regime.

Tough, isn’t it?

On solid ground

Grandad March 11th, 2011

It is easy to draw up a long list of faults with this country.

But at least it lies on solid ground.

So far.

Poor representation

Grandad March 10th, 2011

So we finally have a new gubmint.

There has been much talk about the poor gender balance and the lack of females, but there is a far more serious imbalance than that.

As far as I can see, there are only two beards in the entire Dail. This is preposterous and should be rectified immediately. Out of 166 deputies, only Dr James Reilly and Ming the Merciless [and possibly Joan Burton?] have beards which is appalling representation.

I demand that a quota system be introduced. It should be mandatory that at least 50% of candidates have beards. The current situation is unrepresentative of Irish society and should be rectified immediately.

I am prepared to accept a compromise however. If the current men [and possibly Joan Burton?] are prepared to stop shaving then I will bring the matter no further.

In the meantime, I am composing a strong letter of complain to the European Parliament [and possibly Joan Burton?] about the matter.

I demand action.

Who is Justin Bieber?

Grandad March 9th, 2011

There was an item on the news last night about Justin Bieber.

Who the fuck is Justin Bieber?

Apparently he is well known enough to bring the centre of Dublin to a halt, with crowds of screaming kids running amok, trying to find him.

Now I have never heard the name before, and for someone to blind-side me like that is pretty unusual. I decided to further my education by finding out precisely who this little sod is.

The first thing I found out about him is that apparently he is in the top ten of The Most Popular Women on the Web. I thought that must be a misprint, but apparently not. Very fucking strange.

The second thing I noticed is that he is the image of Donny Osmond, which is enough to send shivers up my spine. This is like something out of The X Files. Are the Mormons into cloning?

Bieber or Osmond?