LLLP Daft Ideas for Scotland

The local election season is nearly upon us and all sorts of aspiring politicians will be putting forward their thoughts on how they will change the world.   So the Last Laugh Looney Party is  floating a few random proposals to see if any might be taken up.    Starting with Bonny Scotland.

Since the establishment of regional Governments, the Scottish Parliament has been a persistent irritation in the UK.      What’s more they have had the benefits of the Barmy formula, which gives them more money per person than the rest of the UK.      And yet they still bang on about leaving the Union and joining the European Disunion.       How ungrateful can you get !

So the Last Laugh Looney Party proposes we have a trial separation for one year and let them pretend to be independent to see how they get on.   With a few conditions :-

  • All Scottish Nationalist Politicians must change their name by deed poll so they can be clearly identified.  They must all have a fishy surname like their leaders — Cod …  Herring … Hake … Mullet  ….. Snapper …. Flounder …. Trout …. Carp  …… Barrcuda.  …. Eel …. Grouper ….
  • All those elected should always wear kilts.
  • All unemployed Scots, which will be most of them if they leave the UK for good, should start rebuilding Hadrian’s wall —— by hand  just like the Romans.   We will need a hard border if they vote for independence.
  • And they had better have wind farms everywhere once the oil runs out.

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Flower Power !

Long after Coronapop is over there will still be flowers.
My garden provides free therapy every day rain or shine.

 Instead of fearfulness the daffodils are floweringall they are worth bring a smile to the world.
They are called “ Cheerfulness”.

Primroses too bring a happy smile all around the garden in a more modest way.

HAPPY DAYS AHEAD  !

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Covid Lens.

After a year of lockdown we have become a nation driven by distant opinion.    We are no longer able to observe things for ourselves.     Our views are formed through the media.    Sometimes it’s the headline grabbing press.    Or the ever hungry 24 hour television news channels.   Or Bodj with his PR managed,  economically truthful sound bites.     Or increasingly, the angry knee jerks of social media.

Over the last twelve months we have all developed a Covid Lens.    A new way of observing things in our locked down age.

Through this lens all issues simplified :-

Everything is black or white.
You’r on one side or the other.
Discussions are arguments.
Listening is not required.
Facts are selective.
Phrases are repeated endlessly.
Experts are everywhere  and nowhere.
Opinions are instantly formed.
Every view is polarised.

Reasoned discussion and debate has gone out of the window.      In this soundbite, lockdown world, you only see through a Covid lens or you just stop listening.

But, who do you believe ?

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What’s Question 17 ?

Three weeks ago a letter about the 2021 Census dropped through our letter box.   The Census comes around every ten years, but this one is a bit different from how I remember it in the past.   For a start it was telling us to fill it in “on-line” and reminding us that failure to complete it could bring a £1,000 fine or at least a visit from an official, probably dressed in full Covid protective gear.    Further failure to comply might lead to imprisonment.     At worst deportation as an illegal immigrant could be on the cards in a few years time !     This from your friendly CIVIL service.

I imagine that many older people are not on-line, or even if they are, would not be happy or confident enough to fill in such an important form.     It will be interesting to see the response rate and how many people end up getting fined, imprisoned or deported.      Reading carefully further down the letter, there was an option to request a paper copy of the form.     So on behalf of elderly technophobes everywhere, I sent off for one.   Today, the demanding form arrived.

Addressed to the ‘householder’, because they didn’t know my name,  I was just a sixteen digit number at this point.    How are they going to fine me if I don’t send in the form ???

I don’t want to be difficult, or imprisoned, so I set about filling in the form.    It is only 32 pages and about 1600 questions !     The first few were easy, just your name and address, no hair colour, birthmarks, tattoos,  not even your height or weight.    How are they ever going to recognise me ?

I was getting on alright with all the other questions …… until I came to Question 17. It says it was intensionally left blank, so how do you know what to put in ?    Do you leave it blank and risk a fine ?    Or do you fill it in with an answer that you want to tell them about that they haven’t asked ?
For instance under the section on qualifications :-

  •  where do I put all my scout badges ?
  • or my Blue Peter Award ?
  • or my driving test certificate ?
  • and my swimming certificates?

Strange that in these lockdown times there is nothing about COVID.   Perhaps this census is a last ditch effort to prove that the Test, Track and Trace system actually works.   If you admit to having visitors in you house you  could  be landed with yet another hefty fine and be quarantined indefinitely.

Posted in GRUMBLES | 6 Comments

Sock it to me !

Socks have featured several times in my blogging years.   (Six times in fact, you can see my earlier posts by clicking on “ Clutter” in the TagCloud)       So I wonder why are socks so often on my mind, not on my feet?

At work I just had black socks which were not difficult to get mixed up.   You could even put a right sock on a left foot or a left sock on a right foot, it didn’t seem to matter.   At weekends it was more complicated, because as well as black socks, I had gardening socks, rugby socks and walking socks …. and a lot of coloured socks.    Choosing which to wear became a five minute early morning challenge.    Still, somehow I coped by always putting my best foot forward and I got through my working years.

Then I came to my retirement years, when  you have more time on your hands …. and feet.    The 5 days a week black socks are now reserved for funerals.   Your feet play a more prominent part in your life.    Socks can set the path for the day.

Socks also become the “old mans” Christmas present.   Who doesn’t need more socks?   They are a most welcome change from wearing the same boring black socks every day,
But now I have a different sartorial challenge.   Do I choose the polar bear socks …. or the snowflake ones.    Or perhaps the spotty ones or the ones with horizontal multi- coloured stripes.    Maybe even the Leicester Tiger logo 100th anniversary ones.    This could add fifteen minutes to my getting dressed time every day !

I could adopt a more radical solution and just take any two socks out of my overflowing sock drawer each day.  That way I would save a lot of time and set a new odd-sock trend.      Of course there is a slight danger the I might be assumed to have dementia and get carried of to to funny farm.

Also, because I have so many, I would not need to wash any socks for probably at least six months !

Once again I can see I am becoming a fashion style icon,   I probably should set up my own YouTube channel.

Since I will never run out of them socks will become part of my LEGacy.

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MP’s Gravy Train !

It only seems like yesterday that our Honourable Members of Parliament were under fire for fiddling their expenses.   In fact it was several years ago and since then the rules have been tightened and an “Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority “ has been set up.   Their latest annual review has just been published and you can clearly see how they have clamped down on MP’s cleaning out their moats; buying designer furnishings for their second homes; staying in luxury hotels;  using endless first class travel and employing most of their family as  secretary’s, office managers or researchers.

Now they are practically living on the breadline with barely a crumb to sustain them in their arduous work on our behalf.     The average cost of our MP’s is a miserly £240,000 a year and this has to cover their salary and expenses.   How on earth do they get bye?    It is difficult to imagine how they hard they must struggle on such a pittance, especially when they have to live in central London and have a second home in their constituency.     Don’t forget the long hours having to sit around all day.

It is only a matter of time before we will see some of them begging on the street out side the Houses of Parliament.

We should probably send them a supply of free Marcus Rashford happy meals as well as a second hand lap top computer.     Indeed it is quite possible that with some creative accounting some may qualify for welfare benefits 😀

Posted in GRUMBLES, SMILES | 4 Comments

More Junk Mail Please.

I have written a lot of posts grumbling about junk mail since I started this blog.       ( You can see my earlier posts by clicking on “GrumbleSmiles Post” in the TagCloud).
Now in the drawn out days of Coronapop  I take it all back.   I have never found junk mail so interesting.     I long for the moment when when the outside world  reconnects with the inside shielding me.     Better still a larger unrequested catalogue of unwanted gifts or gadgets that won’t fit through the letter box.   Then you get the bonus of a knock on the door and a human face.   Shame about the mask and the muffled explanation from across a socially distanced street.

Still, I have something to do for an hour or two in the morning.    Reading about things I didn’t know I wanted.   Forget about the Amazon rain forest that is rapidly disappearing and think about the unique extended reach toenail clippers  that you need now you can’t get down to the floor any more.     Or would I have ever known about the luxury, 6star, all-inclusive Mediterranean cruises that I can book now before it is too late, but may not be able to go on for a year or two …… or ever again.

Perhaps I should buy some stylish wide fitting shoes with 20% off, just in case I can go out again.    Or how about some all new, powerful, non-toxic, all- natural home cleaner that never ever scratches; no home should be without some in these days where germs lurk around every corner.

Without junk mail I have been missing out on all these wondrous products, all because of my negative attitudes towards junk mail.      In the lockdown isolating  Coronapop world, junk mail is becoming a blessing.    GP’s should order it on prescription.     Bodj should make a new rule that everyone should have at least one piece of junk mail a day.

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Pangolin WHO?

It is just a few days away from the 10th World Pangolin Day, but should we be celebrating ?
Pangolins had a lot of bad press last year when it was rumoured that they might be the super-spreaders of Coronapop.

This fake news all started in the wet markets of Wuhan last year to divert attention away from the Chinese laboratories which were researching new viruses.     It was a terrible slur on pangolins from which they may never recover.
The WHO are looking into it, although quite why an ageing pop group should be bothered I am not sure.     I suppose they have taken an interest in health issues as they got older and became even more fearful of dying.    Remember that when they were young they were already singing  “I hope I die before I get old”.
Another lyric said “ I’m not trying to cause a big sensation “.   Well they certainly did that alright.  These Coronapop groups have a lot to answer for.

           HAPPY BIRTHDAY PANGOLINS EVERYWHERE !

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If The Cap Fits.

The sports pages lately have been full of stories about football players at risk of getting dementia from heading balls.   Almost half of the 1966 World Cup team have suffered from this dreadful disease.
At the same time the rugby community has increasingly been concerned about head injuries.   Rugby quite rightly has gone further than football by introducing protocols on assessments and time-outs.   Nobody in there right mind would wish to reverse this caution, but in future it maybe going too far.

In cricket batsmen have worn helmets for quite a few years now, but they must have been mad in the first place to stand in front of someone throwing a hard ball at you at 90 miles an hour !

Looking back, I think my forgetfulness first started with my school cap.   It was grey with a yellow ring and a peak at the front.   Wearing it backwards was never a possibility!  I hated wearing that cap and as often as I could get away with it, I accidentally left it at home.   That usually ended up with 100 lines ——-  “ I must wear my  cap every day”.       Persistent offences lead to detention and a letter to my parents.
I think that slapping that cap on several times a day, every school day for twelve years could well be the cause of my forgetfulness.   I may have a case against Hereford Road School for cruelty to children.

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Geronimo !

What’s the password ?

That used to be a key question in my childhood days.   It gained you special access to a secret den  or a select group of friends.    Not everyone new the password,  that was the whole idea.    But most people could guess it, because the answer was always “Geronimo !”.    Still, childhood days and innocent ways were great fun.

Now in the grown up world and more thefty days, things have become darker and there are passwords for just about everything.     Neither can you guess “Geronimo” it doesn’t work anymore.

For your bank card you only need to remember four numbers, which doesn’t sound too difficult and now you have contactless cards you don’t even need a number too often.   Therein lies a problem, because, if you don’t use it you lose it.   That’s how passwords are forgotten.    You can have a try at remembering, but three try’s and your money is locked up in a vault that even the great train robbers cannot get into.   Bring back “Geronimo”.

Getting a new password is not quite so easy either.    You have to ring up your bank and answer some security questions to prove that you are you.    The questions you gave them three years ago and have long since forgotten.    They really don’t want to give you your money back in case you are trying to rob yourself.

But passwords don’t stop at bank doors.   We now have passwords for many more things and “Geronimo” doesn’t work for them either.   Log onto a website to buy some plants from a nursery and you have to have a six digit code to register your interest.    “Geroni” should work until they tell you you need to include a number.    “Geron7” ought to do the job.   But it doesn’t because you also have to use a ? or a ! or even an &.     So how about “Ger&r7”.     Nobody is going to guess that!    Nor will you ever remember it.

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