Picture this 2.

The story continues……….

The old lady walked across the square carrying two bags of groceries towards the group of young people. As she neared they exchanged greetings. Whilst doing so the handles on one her bags broke and her groceries fell to the floor.

She probably cussed, I couldn’t hear and I was amazed to see several of the youths rush to her aid, ensuring she was steady on her feet and begin to pick her groceries up off the floor. One of the older of the group remonstrated with the younger ones about their cycles laying on the floor. These cycles were removed from their position on the ground. What amazed me even further was that four of the youths assisted  to carry the old lady’s shopping across the square and into a road that lead off the square, presumably to her home. They returned after several minutes. When they returned to the group they were not the subject of ridicule or open piss taking but they carried on as before as though none of this had happened.

I was very surprised but none the less pleased to see that respect of this nature was still in existence.

Now where do you think this took place ?

Becoming a Man – Two year degree course

BECOMING A MAN – TWO YEAR DEGREE COURSE

A new two-year degree is being offered at the University that many of you should be
interested in: Becoming a Real Man.

That’s right, in just six mini-semesters, you, too, can be a
real man as well as earn an MA degree. (Male Arts)

Please take a moment to look over the program outline.

FIRST YEAR

Autumn Schedule:

MEN 101: Combating Stupidity
MEN 102: You, Too, Can Do Housework
MEN 103: PMS-Learn To Keep Your Mouth Shut
MEN 104: We Do Not Want Sleazy Under Things for Christmas

Winter Schedule:

MEN 110: Wonderful Laundry Techniques
MEN 111: Understanding the Female Response to Getting in at 4am
MEN 112: Parenting: It Doesn’t End with Conception
EAT 100: Get a Life, Learn to Cook
EAT 101: Get a Life, Learn to Cook II
ECON 001A: What’s Hers is Hers

Spring Schedule:

MEN 120: How NOT to Act like an arse when you’re wrong
MEN 121: Understanding Your Incompetence
MEN 122: YOU, The Weaker Sex
MEN 123: Reasons to Give Flowers
ECON 001C: What Was Yours is Hers

SECOND YEAR

Autumn Schedule:

SE#X 101: You CAN Fall Asleep without It
SE#X 102: Morning Dilemma: If It’s Awake, Take a Shower
SE#X 103: How to Stay Awake After Sex
MEN 201: How To Put the Toilet Seat Down
(Elective) (See Electives Below)

Winter Schedule:

MEN 210: The Remote Control: Overcoming Your Dependency
MEN 211: How to Not Act Younger than Your Children
MEN 212: You, Too, Can be a Designated Driver
MEN 213: Honest, You Don’t Look Like Brad Pitt
MEN 230A: Her Birthdays and Anniversaries are Important

Spring Schedule:

MEN 220: Omitting %&*!@ from Your Vocabulary (Pass/Fail Only)
MEN 221: Fluffing the Blanket after Farting Is NOT Necessary
MEN 222: Real Men Ask For Directions
MEN 223: Thirty Minutes of Begging is NOT Considered Foreplay
MEN 230B: Her Birthdays and Anniversaries are Important II

Course Electives:

EAT 102: Cooking with Tofu
EAT 103: Utilization of Eating Utensils
EAT 103: Burping and Belching Discreetly
MEN 231: Mothers-In-Law
MEN 232: Appear to Be Listening
MEN 233: Just Say “Yes, Dear”
ECON 001C: Cheaper to Keep Her

Honour the Covenant

http://www.britishlegion.org.uk/index.cfm?asset_id=516704

5% = VFM

5% is value for money, apparently, but only for some. 

MPs totted up £87.6m in expenses in the last financial year – a “like for like” rise of about 5% on the previous year, according to House of Commons figures.

The figures average out at about £135,600 an MP, on top of their basic salary of £60,277 and pension.  Nice work if you can get it.

Labour minister Shahid Malik claimed the most at £185,421.

Tory MP Philip Hollobone claimed the least  £44,551.

Nick Harvey MP, who is on the members’ estimate committee, said taxpayers got “excellent value for money”.  Well done Nick.

The previous year’s total came to £86.8m, but was inflated by the general election as “winding up” payments were made to departing MPs. On a like-for-like basis, the increase amounts to about 5%.

The highest-spender, Mr Malik – who represents a constituency in West Yorkshire – spent more than £21,000 on postage alone. Exactly how many stamps is that ?

Fellow minister Liam Byrne was the next highest spender at £178,116

In February 2007 Liberal Democrat MP for Lewes, Norman Baker learned that more than £17,000 was spent trying to stop him finding out what other Members of Parliament claimed for travel expenses.

He had asked for the figure under the Freedom of Information Act (FOI). He discovered the money was spent on two appeals to try to prevent him from getting the information. The details of claims made by MPs were published in February 2007 after his two-year battle with Commons authorities.  £17,000 of tax payer’s money well spent there then.

You only have to go back to December 2006 to see that MPs had been criticised after reports some were calling for a 66% pay rise, this would take their salaries to £100,000 a year.

MPs were reported to have written to the Senior Salaries Review Board saying the rise is needed to bring them into line with senior civil servants and GPs.

Picture this.

You are walking across the market square of a small town. Itis a Saturday afternoon and weather is fine. In the centre of the square are a number of young people. There are 3 or 4, probably 18 or 19 years of age who are sat on their mopeds with their helmets sitting on the back of their heads, smoking cigarettes and talking loudly. A radio plays music on the ground nearby.

Close to these there are another group of maybe 8 to 10, a few years younger but they have pedal cycles because they are not old enough for mopeds. A couple of these are furtively smoking. Their cycles are laying around the ground. They are talking loudly and copying the behaviour of the older youths.

An old lady, I estimate to be in her 80’s is walking across the square carrying two bags of groceries.

As she approached the group of young people something happened.

What do you think it was ?

Swings and Roundabouts.

Here in the legal playground the most popular piece of apparatus seems to be, not the swings or slide, but the see-saw.   A Hartlepool man is facing jail after he urinated on a  disabled woman who lay dying in the street. The 27-year-old shouted “this is YouTube material” as he degraded Christine Lakinski, 50, who had fallen ill, magistrates heard. Miss Lakinski, who suffered a number of medical conditions, died from natural causes, an inquest found. Anthony Anderson, of Raby Road, who admitted outraging public decency, will be sentenced at Teesside Crown Court. Hartlepool magistrates heard how, on 27 July, Miss Lakinski was making her way home with a box of laminate flooring when she fell ill and stumbled into a doorway. Anderson had smoked a cannabis joint and been drinking when he and two friends spotted her. He tried to rouse her by throwing a bucket of water over her, before urinating on her and covering her with shaving foam. The incident was filmed on a mobile phone. She was later declared dead at the scene, the cause of death being given as pancreatic failure. JAMES Santrey is a violent thug who tried to butcher a terrified police officer. The decision to let him walk free with a suspended sentence is another breathtaking affront to justice by one of the many liberal lunatics masquerading as judges. Santrey tried to stab PC Dameon Shaw at least six times with a kitchen knife. It was a miracle he wasn’t wounded or worse. But the judge, Charles George, said Santrey had a “good heart”, wished him luck and sent him on his way. I have read about these two stories and am horrified at the total lack of respect shown and the appalling way that decisions are made. On the one hand there is a punishment that reflects behaviour that is both sickening and totally without respect whilst on the other hand there is a legal decision that seems to defy belief. I cannot understand the decision made in relation to SANTREY but it appears that doing a job as a Police Officer and having someone trying to to stab you is no longer sufficient for a period of incarceration. Lunatics and asylum spring to mind. Talk about swings and roundabouts.

Whizz bang

There was football today. Another excuse for the Country’s National Sport to become anything but. The alleged ‘fans’ who seem to spend their pre-match time getting some ale into their faces so they can jeer, tease and chant provocation at the opposing ‘fans’. The venom and hatred in their faces is clear, they wear it like a badge.

The competition is never restricted to the field of play. A shame there is not an enclosure somewhere for the combatants to go one-on-one to show exactly how brave they are. They seem to prefer odds of 4 or 5 to 1 or to hide behind the actions of the mob. What a sad place the world has become.

Also in amongst this are the families, fathers with children, groups of young kids and people who have a genuine passion for the game without all the intent for mayhem that others bring along for the occasion.

As the evening draws ever closer and darker the next wave of hooligans begin to have their fun. The rockets, the eggs, the flour, the bangers, the whizz bangers that bring terror to the elderly and to those who don’t ‘understand’ the crack.

The calls come in and there are simply not enough response to go around or fly the flag to try to reassure the world that this madness will go away. The fizz, whizz, crack and bangs only serve to wind up my four legged friend. These are not anti social louts out for a good time, these are potential targets. He does not understand their humour.

Mr. X from Letsby Avenue decides to have a word and ask for some peace. He has his young neice staying and she is unwell, she has a heavy cold. He explains nicely but is subjected to a torrent of abuse, to threats, to the fun and ridicule of the mob. Mr X has no sons or brothers close enough to make a difference so he relies on his mates called Bill. They are busy, they cannot come but will be there when they are free.

We haven’t yet reached the monster that is halloween. Can’t wait.

At least the dogs are happy.

We drive through the early hours to get to the station for the briefing. Everyone looks half asleep. Itis stupid o’clock and only Police, criminals and the eternally stupid are awake. Even the paper workers, bakers and posties are coming to terms with the new day with a cup of their favourite brew at home.

Inspector whoever gives everyone the brief on the objectives, gives out the call signs and teams for the visit. We have the methodology and then the health & safety and professionalism stuff. Deep down everyone knows we’ve got a far easier message to deliver. You deal in drugs then we will come knocking. Then we get the real nitty gritty from the team leader who has been putting the work in to set this up. We forget the bollock talk and get down to the job at hand. Intel, recent activity, etc etc etc. Now we know what we are really there for.

As a final, almost forgotton, thing, everyone suddenly realises that everything depends on me and my buddy who have the job of dealing with the things with teeth that our particular target has for his protection.  These people do not have pets, they have animals as extensions of the persona they try to put on. We usually travel tooled up in pairs for this type of outing.

No matter how much intel on our target, how recent, very little seems to be known about their dogs. These we know are pitbull types and have bitten some of the punters. They were very pissed off about it.

So off we go, everyone expects the unexpected, the convoy hits the streets. Its deserted, the journey seems bizarre as the unknown goes through our heads and the expectation begins to weigh heavy. We get to the place we agree to meet for final checks. The coin is tossed, I call heads and lose. I get the dog catcher. I will need both hands, no shield, no anything, just a metal stick with a loop,  my wits and reflexes.

We park at the agreed place, we don’t want our dogs to give us away. We come in on foot and meet our door team. The timing is perfect.  We approach and our door team get out their special key. In goes the door and then the fun begins. We are confronted by your worst nightmare, the door team and the next line in are surprisingly absent. We have no doubt, this is our responsibility. This dog is bigger than we thought, its teeth are surprisingly white in the darkness and I am able to restrain and tighten the catcher, force the thing backwards into the back of the passage to allow the next wave in behind me to secure the various parts of the house. We have decided to contain the beast in a room temporarily. There are only two of us shouting. the cavalry cautiously arrives and make for their designated places.

Then, all of a sudden, it dawns on the next wave, there appear to be no doors. Even more suddenly they are aware that the dog handler and the beast are not out of the way behind a door but in the passage. The beast is pushed backwards, into the kitchen, towards the back door. My mate, the toss winner, opens the bolts and locks of the door and allows me out. I am able to secure the beast in a kennel after my mate gives it a cursery checkover.

Why is it that these people have more locks and security devices fitted than common sense dictates ?    What if there was a fire ?    It must be to stop burglars, surely ?   No, thats what the CCTV at the door is for. They never saw this coming.

Within moments we are back inside the house and the next wave are over the moon.

We were in quick, too quick for the gear to be flushed. We got our man, his gear, several of his mates and some were wanted.  “You can’t do this, you ain’t got no effing warrant”

Its like the panto season.  “Oh yes we have”.

The beast has calmed down and is semi friendly. Its not the dog’s fault and we know this. We tell him so. There were supposed to be two. I return to the house and in the kitchen I find the second, cowering in a corner. Everyone has missed it. I coax it out and take it to the sanctuary of the kennel. We don’t like to hurt them. Sadly, its an unavoidable part of dealing with things the way we have to.

We reunite the dogs and they are now fine. At least the dogs are happy. 

New Blog

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WEB 

Lest we forget.