Grandad July 11th, 2011
I am confused.
Once again there has been one of those utterly useless “studies”. This time they have been “studying” polar bears.
As far as I am aware, polar bears generally go about their lives without interfering with us and we generally tend to ignore them. That has changed very slightly of the past few years as the bears have unwittingly become a sort of mascot for the Global Warming religion.
I haven’t a fucking clue what the “study” of polar bears was about. I don’t know what they hoped to prove. Maybe they were trying to prove that polar bears cause lung cancer or that the sight of them will force you to put on weight? Who fucking cares. What did strike me though was one of their findings -
The Arctic’s dwindling population of polar bears all descend from a single mama brown bear which lived 20,000 to 50,000 years ago in present-day Ireland
What?
This mama bear lived to the ripe old age of 30,000? I am impressed. It’s no wonder there are so many polar bears.
But I am still confused.
If this bear died 20,000 years ago, how come she lived in present-day Ireland? Not only did she breed like the clappers for 30,000 years but she took time off to time travel to present-day Ireland? This would have been difficult as we don’t have bears in Ireland, so if she did turn up on her time travels, I’m sure someone would have noticed her. A polar bear shopping in Tescos is not something you would forget?
All that apart, I can’t wait for the breathless headlines –
“Just one polar bear can kill”
“There is no safe level of polar bears”
“Study finds that 600,000 people die every day from smoking polar bears”
“New study behind calls to ban sale of polar bears”
You know how it is with these fucking idiots when they lay their hands on a new “study”?
Grandad July 10th, 2011
Just lately I have been having rather vivid nightmares.
They all have one thing in common – I am back working in RTE.
Every morning now when I wake up, I have to write out in detail the content of the nightmare.
Then I am going to put in a timesheet and claim my pay.
They get the work; I get the money.
It’s only fair?
Grandad July 8th, 2011
There is a company that collects our rubbish.
They have a rather complicated system where they collect bottles on certain weeks, recyclables on other weeks and the rest of the shit any other time. I could never get the hang of which day was the day for which shit.
I don’t know why they can’t do it like the French. The French have a brilliant system where they have these little collection areas that have several large coloured bins. Any time you feel like it, you can throw all your crap in there and someone comes along and collects it, but it doesn’t matter a damn when they do it, because you have already gotten rid of your junk. That would be much too complex for our mob though, and if you miss the collection then that’s tough.
I don’t know what the hell they do with all the tons of crap they collect, but I have a sneaking suspicion they ship it off to China or somewhere where they convert it all into computers or politicians or anti-smokers or something else befitting its origins.
Just to confuse their complicated system of rubbish collection, they decided that they weren’t going to collect it on the appointed day any more, and I can’t remember which days they are collecting what and when.
I got a letter from them a few weeks ago. They apologised for the complexity of things and said they had new cutting edge technology that would see me right. They said that if I gave them my mobile phone number, that they would text me the night before a collection and would tell me what kind of collection it was. I phoned them and got chatting to a very nice girl. I gave her my number and told her to text me when a collection was due, or phone me whenever she felt like a shag.
I’m still waiting for a text.
Or a phone call.
In the meantime, my rubbish is building up at an alarming rate in a great heap at the bottom of the garden. The pile is festering and steaming. It is starting to make gentle undulating movements. I am going to have to revert to chucking it into the neighbour’s garden, and I am going to have to do that soon.
I have this fear that it’s going to start talking to me.
Grandad July 7th, 2011
We are beginning to see the true colours of the EU.
The wolf beneath the sheep’s clothing is beginning to flex its muscles.
The latest from The Wolf’s Lair is to fine companies for not flying the EU flag.
How soon before it is compulsory to fly the EU flag everywhere?
What’s the betting that they are already planning to introduce a single language to the EU?
What’s the betting it will be German?
What’s the betting that the German language will become compulsory in all schools?
Sieg heil.

Grandad July 6th, 2011
I have mentioned Twitter once or twice in the past.
I have even been know to mention Facebook in passing.
The reason I am mentioning them again is that I think I may have confused some people. In fact that is more than likely as they have confused me.
Take Twitter for example. Every now and then, the nice people at Twitter write to me to tell me that someone new is following me. Can anyone tell me what I am supposed to do about this none too covert stalking? Am I supposed to thank Twitter? Am I supposed to thank the new follower and do I then start following them? That could be a tad awkward as we would just follow each other in ever decreasing circles until we vanished up our own arses.
There is another thing that puzzles me too. Every so often someone shouts my name with FF attached. What the hell is this? Funny Fellow? Fucking Fool? Am I supposed to thank them or curse them?
Facebook is another matter altogether and frankly is even more confusing. People don’t stalk you there. Oh no, they are quite up front about it and demand to be your friend. There are lots of people who want to be my friend but my parents warned me about them. “Beware of strangers who offer you sweets” they said, though in Facebook it’s more a case of “Beware of strangers who want to poke you”. I suppose Facebook is at least a bit more honest about it?
I get quite a few emails from Facebook every week. They all say the same thing though I have never bothered to read them all. They all whinge on about my family and how they have found two possible relatives of mine. Ok, so one is a niece-in law [is there such a thing?] and the other is that K8 one that I have been trying to disown for years, so I’ll give Facebook half marks for effort. I would join up with their fucking Family Tree just to stop the fucking mails, but then they would have won. So no fucking chance!
The one little yoke that I do use quite a lot is Skype. I don’t shout about it because it would be boring. I have friends that I call up and have a chat with, or who will trade long text messages with me. However, like any ordinary phone, I’m picky about who calls me. I have enough problems with cold callers without inviting them onto my computer too. The odd time I will get a request from some total stranger who wants me to let them see when I am on line. Why? Do they want to phone me? Or do they just want to see when I am up and about? The sad news for them is that I only go on line at certain times. My friends know when those times are, but no one else does, so those total strangers could be waiting a very long time.
I think on the whole I’m better off leaving all this Social Media shite to the young people. They can happily spend their time swapping boring photos and even more boring videos and telling each other that they have just arrived in Burger King.
I’m off to the pub.
Now that’s social!