Now I know how Joan of arc felt

Boris has actually said “Sirte (Libya) will be a beautiful place, once they clear away the dead bodies”. This is our foreign secretary. Already living up to Theresa’s request for fewer “yes” men. How about “you’re a fucking insensitive, vile cunt, devoid of any compassion, removed from reality and intent on making this country into a laughing stock… you’re fired!”

Bear Grylls has politicised the scouts, he rocked up in uniform and tried to blag £50m, in what amounted to a “scouts can combat radicalisation” pitch. A man who drinks his own piss.

I actually can’t get my head around what Boris has said…. how can anyone think that’s acceptable? Fucking hell!

We should take a bus to somewhere else

News reports of yet another mass shooting in America brings up all sorts of thoughts and emotions. The usual platitudes seem to have very little meaning when it’s every few weeks. The way the news reports these things seem ineffectual. “People are shocked” really? A country that voted to allow the mentally ill to own guns is shocked by the 274th multiple shooting in the last 275 days. I would have been shocked on that one day that didn’t have one. Things won’t change because the ideology will never change. A country that didn’t do anything after Sandy Hook will do nothing, and it doesn’t matter how loudly they shout, the NRA pay people to shout louder. The tangerine cunt puffin currently pretending to be president will read poorly from a teleprompt, but in the face of damning statistics, will make it easier and easier to get a gun. Arming the good guys. It worked in The man who shot Liberty Valance, but life isn’t Hollywood.

Full a fifth of old crow

Some cross functional training going on here today. I’m cooking Sunday dinner, and MLSOH has made a pomegranate Cosmo

City won yesterday, convincingly. The media didn’t see the same match I watched.

#IfCarlsbergDidWeekends

Television dreams of tomorrow

What a disgrace this man is. Judging the world by his own standards. Fuck you!

This, along with the McCain chips advert has me questioning humanity again.  If, in the 21st  century, you actually believe that two people of the same sex shouldn’t be allowed to love each other, then you really need to have a long hard look at yourself in mirror and re-evaluate you life.

A crowd of people stood and stared

Radio two is fifty today, and to commemorate this the BBC went out on to the streets to make some young people look stupid. They asked them to tune a radio, and all but one couldn’t do it. Not surprising really, no one uses them any more. It’s ok though, it’s not like they were asking them to go and get a long stand or a bucket of steam… that’s bullying. The real comedy value is when you think these young people will be running our country when we’re on our last legs. Yeah, not that funny is it? Anyway, all this nonsense brought back a memory of lying in bed trying to tune in radio Luxembourg for Beatles hour, then listening to it gently fade in and out whilst listening to songs I already had on vinyl. It somehow seemed illicit, and someone else’s play list is always more interesting.

Sergio Aguero had an accident in a taxi after watching a concert. He broke a rib and will be out for a few weeks. This prompted Richard Keys (hairy ex Sky presenter) to comment that if it had been Wayne Rooney the reaction would have been different. So, a man who fucked his daughter’s friend, while his wife had cancer, takes the moral high ground.

Finally, who the fuck is Henry Bolton? Do we finally have a Ukip leader who knows where he lives? Will he last long enough for us to get to know what flavour of racist he is? Is he actually Nigel Farage in disguise? All these questions and more will be answered… maybe.

Everyone’s a Captain Kirk

Working from home has been a revelation, but it does take some adjustments. I still treat it like a work day, up at 7, I even have a wash before my coffee. I have to admit at this point that I don’t dress for the office. Even when I was “at work” I didn’t wear a tie, but I have taken to wearing… let’s call it executive lounge wear… any resemblance to pyjamas is strictly coincidental, I don’t like wearing anything in bed…

After 34 years of marriage there are no mysteries, I’ve seen things that would make your fucking eyes bleed. I’m sure my long suffering other half (from now on MLSOH) has similar scars.

Two of the main problems with working from home are intrinsically linked. I sit on my arse for vast amounts of the day, in a very comfy office chair that’s located about twelve feet from the kettle, biscuits, fridge, and even worse, about four feet from the drinks cabinet. Fat is not just a feminist issue, and if it wasn’t for the fact that MLSOH drags me, kicking and screaming, to the gym four days a week, I would probably be on Jeremy Kyle, fork lift truck parked outside the house, super sized ambulance on standby. Off to eat lettuce for every meal and get shouted at by a borderline psychopath in a white coat.

A slightly different issue with my home bound employment is the lack of crack. I know banter is a dirty word these days, and probably for good reason. But, a good crack at work with good mates is essential for your mental health, it keeps you sharp and prevents l’esprit d’escallier. It can change opinions, educate, and can promote creativity, which drives all kinds of improvements. I do have Huxley, my little mate, but he’s a Guinea pig and they do have limited crack. He goes fucking mental if I open the fridge, which in turn notifies MLSOH that I am eating something. Fucking grass. He is very positive though, never criticises my ideas, and never has a bad word for anyone.

On the plus side, I’m not forced to listen to Steve Wright in the fucking afternoon. I can play my music all day, without the inane ramblings of a DJ who does the same crap he did in ’84, when I first passed my driving test, and Nena sang about luftballons.

As Morrisey once wrote, “hang the dj”

Right! Back to it, I have an email to send and it’s almost lunch.

Sweet Loretta Martin…

Right, why am I back doing this after a ten year break? Social media was, and still is I suppose, great. It is, but it’s changed. I still enjoy twitter, but it’s so instant.. I could sit on it all day and still not keep up, it’s fucking tiring, and posts have to be right now, or you’ve missed the moment. Facebook has turned into an arena of veiled cyber bullying, re-hashed twitter content for those that missed their moment, or just plain old vacuous shite… oh, and then there’s the needy “I’ve had a shit day” posts that beg for ((((hugs)))). I’m sure people read my insanely long political rants with the same simmering hatred, mumbling under their breath “why don’t you just get a fucking blog?”

I have, it’s new and it’s here. Bluetealeaf is still there to be read, the comments are long gone with the demise of yaccs, but all the old bollocks is still in black and white, a simpler time, when we thought GWB was about the worst it could get… I still have things to say, ideas to evolve, lots of piss to boil, and there are plenty of people still need telling to fuck off.

I’m sticking with “lyrics as post titles” theme, it gives another angle, something to think about. No fancy shit this time, it’s about the writing and the discussion.

Anyway, Trump and Brexit alone should keep this going ‘till 2020.