BECAUSE IT’S IMPORTANT AND NECESSARY

For some reason, the page ‘Who I Am And Why I Do This’ has stopped functioning, so this intro is going to be at the head of my blog, probably for as long as the blog lasts. Newer rubbish will from now on be posted below it.
Now. . .
An update dedicated to ME!!!
I am a middle-aged female deist Mancunian, an oddball loner with misanthropic tendencies.
I live in a terraced house with cats Domino Basset, Lyra Tab and Oscar Paws in a small town on the East Lancs (Greater Manchester) border of the Manchester conurbation.

THE CATS

DOMINO BASSET

LYRA TAB

OSCAR PAWS

This blog is for my entertainment only, and it’s motto is ‘There is no god so don’t worry about it’, or as a deist, I mean no biblegod, no involved god of the scriptures of the world. He is too big and powerful to even know we exist, never mind involve himself in us and in our doings, so worrying about pleasing him the right way is a waste of good energy.
By misanthropic tendencies, I mean I don’t really like/trust members of my own species. I do however have a strong, undiscriminating affection for members of other species (what you might call ‘the animals’.) Why? Because no other species has upset me or hurt me like members of my own.
If, on your journey wandering the Interwebs, you’ve stumbled on this blog, stick around, there might be something you particularly disagree with. You probably will find something, as I like to think of myself as an equal opportunities insulter. If you want to tell me how wrong I am, all correspondence can be sent to;
JESSICA9909(AT)HOTMAIL(DOT)CO(DOT)UK.

SMUGGLER’S END

At approximately 10:30 am this morning China time British subject* Akmal Shaikh was executed by lethal injection for drug smuggling in China.
In the official uproar from governments, based around the idea that executing a man, said to have bi-polar disorder, is wrong, there are tiny but united opinions from the people in this country that if we took China’s laws as our own there would be fewer crimes especially committed by foreigners** taking advantage of our liberal justice system.
A couple of points; it was only decided that he had (was?) bi-polar AFTER he was arrested for smuggling four kilograms of heroin into China. This middle aged man was tricked into carrying a case into China by people who claimed they would help him start a pop career. He didn’t know any better.
I must reiterate my own beliefs that everything deserves to live, that depriving anything of life unless there are good medical reasons is wrong. I am pro-life in the extreme. So I can’t agree that killing this chap was the right thing to do. But when you live in a nation which is so mixed up law-wise that you can get the same amount of gaol time for taking legal highs, getting drunk, getting into a car and driving into a little girl on a crossing or looking at certain websites. (Just looking. Seriously), it’s about time we really got, in the words of T. Blair esq. ‘Tough on crime, tough on the causes of crime’, and this endless talk of rehabilitation and fair goes for the worst should be overhauled.

*He’s a subject of her majesty, not a citizen. We aren’t a republic yet.

**Of course in this country, if you listened to some types, it’s only foreigners who commit crimes, that British born white nationals have never so much as spit out on the street or had an overdue library book.

A LOVING GOD’S PUNISHMENT

Did you know that god is so offended by the behaviour of homosexual males* that he is punishing the whole of the US by causing disasters and young men killed in wars?
But seriously. We are talking about the supreme being. The creator of everything who knows everything and can do everything. The perfect consummate individual who was contented but one day after several eternities got fed up and decided to create the universe(s). He then created life on one planet, and out of that life he picked one single species. Out of that species he picked one group, and then he worked on them, and he gave them laws, one of which includes not lying (having sex) with a member of your own gender as long as that gender is male.
Putting aside the fact that no one is hurt by two homosexual males touching genitals, do these people honestly, seriously, no messing about, straight faced, believe the one who created this universe which is approximately one hundred and sixty five billion light years across, who created suns and planets we’ll never see, cares enough about what members of a single gender of a single species on a single planet, a mere dot hardly visible in the universe, get up to enough to slaughter members of this species who aren’t homosexual?
Not just homosexuality. Let’s be fair. Do people honestly believe that this creator god cares enough to cause disasters and earthquakes and snowstorms because small numbers of this single species on this one planet at the back end of this unbelievably huge universe, which is the physicists are correct is just one of many, insist on trying to get other members of this species to change our ways to stop something called global warming?
If you do, you don’t deserve to be allowed to have an opinion on anything apart from maybe what programme you want to watch on the telly.

*He obviously has no problem with homosexual females because like most straight men he finds them, and what they get up to together, sexy.

SONG TO END THE WEEKEND ON : NELLIE THE ELEPHANT

This weekend’s song is from 1982, and it’s the Toy Dolls, a punk band fronted by a very thin, in this case shirtless, Michael ‘Olga’ Algar. The song is a children’s classic ‘Nellie the Elephant’, written by Ralph Butler and Peter Hart in 1956. I think this Youtube punk/indie version does more than justice to the whole idea of it.

Watch the way they dance.
Anyhow,
As always,
Enjoy and,
A good week, whether off you run to Hindustan or not.

OH, YEAH!

This student pulled up outside his house in a large shiny silver Rolls Royce. He beeped the horn which made an ornamental noise, hopped out and ran up the path to his front door, where his Mum opened up.
“Hello, Mum! I’m home for the holidays.” He kissed her forehead clumsily.
“Hello, son.” Peering around his lanky frame, “where’d you get the car from?”
“Oh, It’s funny, isn’t it? You know the new woman, who’d just moved in when I went off to university?”
“Yes.”
“Well I was walking passed her house along the avenue when she came out and said ‘can you drive?’ and I said ‘yes’. ‘But I bet you can’t afford a car?’ ‘Well, I’m on holiday now and I was going borrow my parent’s car while I drove around the neighbourhood.’ ‘Would you like this car?’ ‘Yeah! But who can afford a Roller?’ Anyhow, she said ‘you can have it for a fiver.’”
“A fiver?!”
“Yeah. Lovely, isn’t it.”
“Where’s the catch?”
“I don’t know! It works and everything.”
“You’ve only driven it about a hundred yards!”
“I know, but it’s worth it, isn’t it? A fiver. Even if I just take it back to Uni with me and park it outside the union and look at it from my lecture room.”
So the two went into the house and Dad welcomed his son and was told the story.
“Get your mate who owns the garage to check it over.” The Mum said.
“So long as you’ve done tinkering with it for when I get back to Uni.” The student miming driving. “I want to take it with me!”
“We’ll be done, son.”
Anyhow, the mate has a look at it and then examines it with great care and then gives his verdict;
“It’s perfect. Nowt up wi’ it. The engine, the tires, everything. The machine is taxed and insured for twelve months. The tank’s full o’ petrol. Even the paint job is a new one. There is nothing wrong with it I can find.”
When he’d gone, Mum said to Dad;
“It’s not that I don’t trust your mate, but we are wi’ the RAC so I’ll get them to check it over.”
The RAC send an engineer out and his verdict is the same as the Dad’s mate’s. A Rolls Royce, taxed and insured for twelve months, in perfect condition.
So the Mum decides;
“I’m having a word wi’ this neighbour, asking her what she’s doing, selling a perfectly good Rolls for a fiver to our son.”
So she goes to the neighbour’s house and rings the bell and the neighbour comes out.
“Good morning. Lovely morning, int it?”
“What’re you playing at, selling a perfectly good Rolls to my boy?”
“Come on in.”
So the Mum goes into the cosy little house and the neighbour sits her down and brews tea for them and then gets a letter out of a drawer in the living room cabinet and shows it to the Mum.
“I’ll give you a bit o’ background before you read it. Me and my husband were married for twenty-seven years then when he gets to fifty-six he gets the male menopause. I’m too old for him, his life is boring, he wants a bit o’ fun. So six months back he sells our house from under me and runs off with a young girl from the office and they go to Barbados together, living it up in Paradise. Fortunately, I work and managed to get hold of this place, which is nice. Anyhow, the other day I received this letter from him. Read it now.”
And the letter read;
“My dear Elaine.
What can I say? I made a mistake in leaving you. I miss you. I just want to come home to you and make amends but that silly girl I left you for has helped me spend the money from the house and savings and now I’m stranded. It’s no fun without money and without you. I’ve managed to get a job as a barman but it doesn’t pay much. I want you to help me come home to you. I want you to sell the Rolls and send me the money.”

A SEASONAL POEM+

ONE DAY BEFORE

It’s one day to go and therefore the final posting in this year’s ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’. The revelries have already started around here, judging by the muffled singing and shouting without. It’s my turn to host the family get together tomorrow so I really should be getting ready. It looks like it’s going to be a white Christmas (although it’s technically not a white Christmas unless it snows on the day so I don’t know yet).
Have a good ‘un, All The Best! and I’ll be back after Boxing Day,
Anyhow,
For the final update this year, here’s a sweet, jolly poem I’ve written and I call it;
FATHER CHRISTMAS MOUSE

It’s Christmas time in the mouse house
With babies squealing for joy,
Waiting with bright shining eyes,
For Father Mouse to deliver their toys.

Father Mouse is a jolly old mouse,
With fur white as white can be,
He rides in dear Father Christmas’ hat,
And squeaks so merrily.

All the little mice awake,
Then curled up for a sleep,
And Father Mouse delivers their toys,
And here is what he squeaks;

Here are your toys, my little mice,
And things good for you,
Merry Christmas and happy tails.
May your cat troubles be few.

All the little mice asleep
As Father Mouse does creep,
Delivering all their toys,
Them them to see, awake, a-squeak!

A SEASONAL SONG

TWO DAYS TO GO

It’s two days to go on the ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ countdown and we have Elvis Presley singing ‘Here Comes Santa Claus’, a jolly number sung in Elvis’ inimitable way.

THE ANIMAL’S TURN

THREE DAYS TO GO

On the ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ countdown three days to go, it’s about time we mentioned animals, so All The Best! presents Gene Autry singing about a very special Cervidae, now seventy.

1939 was the year Rudolf was first introduced to guiding Father Christmas’ sleigh, and he’s still going strong.

WHAT IT’S REALLY ALL ABOUT

FOUR DAYS BEFORE

Today on the ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ Christmas countdown, we remember the real reason why we celebrate. On the Winter Soltice, the shortest day. At one time before Christianity came in and overtook it, people in the northern hemisphere used to cut branches from holly and ivy and other evergreen trees and light up their homes and eat specially prepared meals and exchange presents to celebrate the birth of the sun, heralding the start of new life and a new beginning.

WHITE CHRISTMAS(?)

FIVE DAYS BEFORE

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. . .doo doo doo doo doo doo dee doo. . .
It’s five days before on the ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ countdown and because both sides of the north Atlantic coastline have had more than their fair share of the white stuff, from ‘Holiday Inn’ here’s Bing Crosby with the song to annoy all of you who have heard nothing else piped through into stores this holiday season and are now thoroughly sick to vomiting of it. Those who were forced to work in such an atmosphere especially.
Hoping that the big day will be snowy.

To all of us who have to go out in it, All The Best!

A SLIGHT DIVERSION

SIX DAYS BEFORE

Today just happens to be the last day of the Jewish festival of lights, Hanukkah, commemorating the story of a miracle. Over two thousand years ago, the Seleucids (sort of like our Greeks and Syrians today) invaded Israel and attempted to impose foreign ways on the people. A band of warrior priest took on the might of the powerful army, beat it and retook and rededicated the Jerusalem temple to their god. However, there was only enough purified holy olive oil to burn the eight branches candlestick menorah for one day. However, here comes the miracle. The one day supply lasted eight days, enough to dedicate the purify more oil. It’s a lovely story, and is meant to symbolise all that is good and light and clean against what is wicked and dark and impure.
On the last day of this important Jewish holiday, All The Best! would like to wish everyone out there a happy Hanukkah.

NEW MEMBER UPDATE

Old lady Domino has been upstairs staying out of the way ever since Oscar arrived, but tonight she’s come down again and is lay on her usual place warming her old bones on the radiator. She keeps glancing meaningfully at Oscar and he glances back, but all seems well.
Lyra, meanwhile, is remaining aloof from the whole business.

CITY CHRISTMAS

SEVEN DAYS BEFORE

It’s seven days to go on this ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ countdown, and today’s offering is an absolute beauty. Jim Reeves (my Dad’s favourite) singing ‘Silver Bells’, because it’s Christmas time in the city and soon it will be Christmas Day.

That’s it for seven days before.

IF YOU HAVE TEARS

EIGHT DAYS BEFORE

On this eight days before ‘Heading Full On For Christmas’ is an offering from Willie Nelson, ‘Pretty Paper’, all about a busy street and a hapless street salesman trying to sell the few things he has and doing his best to advertise (‘pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue wrap your presents to your darlin’ from you, pretty pencils to write I love you, pretty paper pretty ribbons of blue’).
Gentle and oh so sad.