Friday 22 May 2009

This will be the last blog - tomorrow I'm off to London to break a few heads and show the SPG (or whatever the Met call their thugs now) that we're harder than them.

Today is exactly 6 months since Laura died - I've done my best to stay peaceful, but the politicians have kept me permanently angry, so whoever tries to stop me storming Parliament tomorrow will be sorry.

Fuck them all, and I'm off to nick for kicking the shite out of a few uniformed thugs.

Bri.

Tuesday 5 May 2009

Thieves, scrotes and Italian referees

I had a somewhat disturbing experience on Monday - popping into the local Co-Op for a packet of fags, I encountered a little scrote trying to steal a sandwich, with only one of the till girls trying to stop him.

Me being me, I interposed myself between said scum and the young lady, and made it plain that it would be best for him if he returned the sandwich.

Imagine my surprise (not!) when he threatened me, in best Gangsta, with personal violence!

Now I, as a man that went to school in Moss Side, am not a man to be impressed by arseholes talking big - after relieving the little git of the sandwich I asked him to repeat his threats in English, at which point he headed back towards me, his right hand reaching for his pocket. It seemed obvious to me that the silly little pillock thought I'd be scared by a knife, but what I felt was more disrespectful was that he was still jabbering at me in Gangsta, and that he thought that I, an honest and honourable man, would let a shitty little shoplifter who can't even be bothered to speak English threaten me.

Unfortunately (for me), his friends called him back, and the little twat went outside.

Having been in a situation where it was likely that a blade would be pulled on me, I was in full attack mode, with enough adrenaline for a whole football crowd flowing through my veins - I had to punch the wall when I got home to get the steam out of my system. I'd have much preferred it if he'd pulled the blade - I could have sated my bloodlust and got a thieving little bastard off the streets at one go.

And referees?

I've just watched the Man U vs Arsenal game, and had a couple of quid on a 3-0 victory to Man U. To see the ridiculous penalty decision that gave Arsenal a totally undeserved goal, and incidentally cost me 68 quid, made me think that there isn't much difference between Italian refs and shoplifters - they all steal from us eventually. What a bastard that ref is.

Still, Aldershot's a small town, and I'll eventually see the shoplifter again - he'd better be a fast runner. Italian refs, on the other hand, can steal my putative gambling winnings with impunity, since I'll never be able to recognise them.

Thursday 23 April 2009

St Georges Day

Well, here we go again - it's the day on which Englishmen should celebrate their Englishness, Shakespeare's birthday and all that.

I'm Welsh, so have already had my saint's day (yes, I wore a daffodil all day and didn't mind looking a bit silly), but our little circle of middle-aged men of varied ethnicity and shade will all be raising a glass to both St George and the Bard today. It's Everton's birthday too, so there's likely to be some Jamaican chaos going on later.

I find it a shame that St George's day isn't more widely celebrated, and that the political classes seem to be actively opposed to the display of the English flag, as though there is an ingrained fear that celebrating your Englishness is wrong and may lead to BNP tendencies or worse. Any BNP supporter encountering our little celebration today would be best advised to keep very, very quiet - we're all British, but all different sorts of British, and we're determined to celebrate our Britishness today.

So get out in the spring sunshine, gather as many friends as you can, and toast England, St George and Shakespeare until you can toast no more.

Tuesday 21 April 2009

May thine own acts follow you

This is another personal blog - you may read or ignore as you please.

About 3 years ago, I came home from work to find two young girls sat on our couch.

Laura had (as was her way) picked them up off the street and offered them a bed for the night.

That night turned into six months, during which we gave S & N (no names- they are their own people) a stable place to build on, enough confidence to kick their habits and to move on with their lives.

S, we knew, made it - we're still in touch and she's now in a good relationship with a man that loves her and cares for her.

We lost touch with N - we heard a lot of stuff about her going on the crack and moving away, and were worried about her.

Today was a red letter day for me - I bumped into N in town, and she's clean, happy and in a good relationship with one lovely daughter and another on the way.

Just goes to prove - never pass by on the other side, because sometimes your little bit of help works wonders.

Sentimental again, I know - but sometimes life's like that ;o)

Friday 17 April 2009

Jacqui Smith's a Cunt

For OH:

Bastard Holborn has this great campaign
Which will upset poor Jacqui again -
To get on the front,
Call Jacqui a cunt -
He'll add you to his roll of disdain.

Tuesday 14 April 2009

The Braveheart Programme

I live in Aldershot - it's an army town, slowly fading under the cosh of New Labour that has decimated and overstretched our armed forces.

One of my favourite watering holes is the Trafalgar - it's the safest place to drink in town, and a great place to chill out and watch rugby.

Today's Indy has an excellent article about the Traf and its bond to the Paras.

The main thrust of the article, though, is the lack of care given by the New Labour swine to our troops - interviews with several of the ex-Paras that drink there highlight the problems that PTSD causes to too many of our ex-servicemen and women.

I've never served (tried to join the Marines but my eyesight's too poor), but have spent many hours in the company of these fine gentlemen, and can attest to their suffering and their sense of abandonment by the country that they fought for.

There's an initiative being run from the pub to try to help the veterans - the Braveheart Programme. They should have charitable status soon, so when they do I suggest we all contribute to this cause rather than the leftist dominated nonsense that is Oxfam or any of the other charities that help the undeserving.

If you read this, please spread the word - as the saying goes, if you're not prepared to stand behind our troops, feel free to stand in front of them.

Monday 13 April 2009

Consummate Dissembling

I've been reading and re-reading our glorious leader's 'apology' (as published on the ever so independent BBC), and find the following phrase extremely telling:

"I am assured that no minister and no political adviser other than the person involved had any knowledge of or involvement in these private emails that are the subject of current discussion."

This is a very carefully constructed sentence - so careful, in fact, that it stands out from the rest of the letter as probably not having been written by Brown.

Note the use of the phrase "the subject of current discussion" - is that needlessly precise, or just lawyerspeak? Brown (or more likely his legal advisors) specifically restricts his denials to the emails that have so far been released - by now he will have the full correspondence between McBride, Draper and whoever else (Two Dinners and Charlie Boy - we're looking at you...) was involved, and will know that there is still more pain to come, provided the MSM has the cojones to publish.

The use of the word 'private' to describe the emails is also disingenuous in the extreme - these emails were sent from a government email account, by a person employed as a civil servant, and are thus subject to FOI rules of disclosure.

The rest of the letter is so clumsily phrased that it could have been written by a politics student - I could have written better English than that 35 years ago, when I was taking my grammar school exams.

I hope Guido releases some more soon - now that Brown has made a noose for his own neck, more revelations could sink the lying evil swine for good, along with the remainder of his rotten Parliament.

Brown's days are numbered, and the writing's on the wall - I for one have the Laurent Perrier on ice.

Monday 6 April 2009

Faith and Unreason

I've nicked the title directly from the Indy, but here is a story that sums up the worst of the New Labour disease that has infected our country over the last 12 years.

A wonderful headmistress, who turned a failing primary school into what should (given the circumstances) have been the pride of the country, has been hounded out of her job, her marriage and possibly her home by the insidious poison of fear that paralyses the semi-incompetents that run our local councils.

Erica Connor, a woman who worked tirelessly to improve a school with a small minority of native English speakers, doing untold good for those under her care, was hounded out of her job by the actions of a couple of Islamist school governors and the supine and negligent attitude of her local council.

We need more women like Erica (I say 'women' advisedly, because primary school teachers are overwhelmingly female) who are willing to make schools in deprived areas work, and who do their utmost to integrate the local community into the wider community that we all wish to inhabit.

Her 'crime', if it is that, was to oppose two school governors who wished, in line with the thinking of one Anthony George Linton Blair, to convert her school to a 'faith based' institution. No matter that she had taken a school that scored 5% on the maths SAT, and made it a resounding success (scoring over 90% on all 3 SATs) - the multicultural nonsense espoused by Blair and New Labour, and the power that even the suggestion of politically incorrect behaviour has over the ignorant and stupid that occupy our local councils has cost Erica her job and the children of that part of Woking their chance of a decent future.

If a school is succeeding, then why on earth should the governors be interfering in this way?

If a school is succeeding, then why should Surrey CC behave in the manner they did, launching two enquiries based only on the accusations of a couple of Islamists who add nothing to the quality of education?

If a school is succeeding, then why change anything?

No swearing today - I always get very polite before I explode.

Damn all New Labour, their corrupt institutions, their short-sighted multicultural nonsense and their dhimmis on Surrey CC.

Sunday 29 March 2009

Soppy Sunday

I've been struggling to get over the death of my wife for the last few months - here's a poem about her.

Sweet Laura Adele
My lover, my woman, my belle
She drank and she farted
And that's why I started
With sweet Laura Adele.

She loved me, she hurt me she did -
She had me so frightened I hid,
For she was a maid
In whom life was displayed
And I'd do whatever she bid.

We had our three years on the cross
All fighting and fucking and floss -
But we stayed together
Through hell and bad weather
Sweet Laura's my life's worst loss.

Sweet Laura Adele
I loved that woman like hell
Her temper, her smile
Her cunning and guile
My sweet Laura Adele.

Bri.

Tuesday 24 March 2009

Angela fucking Eagle

I normally like to reflect before posting, but watching Newsnight is making my blood boil.

That useless Scouse tart Angela Eagle won't answer a straight question - even Paxman lost patience with the rugmuncher for Toxteth East.

Everyone who knows anything about banking accepts that this shower of shits has fucked up big style, yet Eagle is still trying to claim that 'basic economics' (by which I assume she means Keynsian daydreaming) requires additional 'financial stimulus'.

Bollocks.

What we need now is a huge reduction in public spending, and tax incentives to promote real wealth creation (that's manufacturing, to all you Thatcher fans) in this country.

I can't begin to describe my disgust at the level of idiocy that passes for politics these days.

Hoons, the lot of them.

An Occasional Series

I like corrupting classic poems and spewing bile at politicians - so I'll be posting some reworkings of classic British poems as and when the mood takes me.

Larkin gets it today - fucking librarian twat.

"They be the Curse"

They fuck you up, the Righteous twats,
They may not mean to but they do -
They ignore the logic of their acts
And think their lies are true.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By Marxist teachers in their schools,
Who taught them how to slash and burn,
To steal and butcher all the rules.

Scum hands on Righteousness to scum.
The vicious circle knows no end.
Get out, protest and beat the drum,
And pray that Britain soon may mend.

Saturday 14 March 2009

Barrow boys whinge about possible new banking regulations - may leave country

The Independent reports (http://www.independent.co.uk/news/business/news/fears-of-bank-exodus-sparked-by-fsa-reforms-1645215.html) that 'bankers' are concerned that new FSA rules may deter them from doing business in London.

Given that the majority of our current woes can be laid at the door of these barrow boys who had no conception of fiscal responsibility, along with the idiot politicians who connived in their reckless and possibly fraudulent activities, all I can say is 'good riddance'.

An acquaintance of mine who refused to be involved with the FSA, despite being tipped for the top job (no names, no pack drill - check the Private Eye archives if you want to try to figure out who it is) summed it up perfectly the other day - banks should be run by bankers, not shopkeepers.

We need these new rules on liquidity and financial instruments, to ensure that we never again enter the cheap credit / expensive property spiral that has characterised the last 12 years of Labour maladministration.

And if that means that the dodgy operators go elsewhere, then so be it - I just wish we could have some new rules that would make all the politicians piss off as well.

Friday 13 March 2009

Poor Phil Woolas

I was distressed to hear about poor Phil Woolas - the Dhimmi for Oldham East - having his offices invaded by a bunch of lefty loons.

I have a history with Woolyarse going back for years - he was the character on top of the bus stop identifying student protesters when we blocked Westminster Bridge in the heady days of student grant protests, and I was the instigator of the sit down that blocked the bridge.

But he has my sympathy now - all he has done is to play the race card for political gain and to try to gain himself some respect among the white (and mostly BNP now, haha) voters of Oldhamistan, and these thugs have the temerity to occupy his office?

There are loads of lamp posts in Oldham, and surely it's not beyond the wit of the 'No Borders' arseholes to buy some piano wire?

Fuckwits on both sides - but it's a pity that Woolas survived...

Helping Africa - are we really helping?

I'm a really sentimental old sod, and have been watching the Comic Relief programme all night, and crying at the plight of the people who are being helped by our charity.

I was brought up to believe that the example of the Good Samaritan was the ultimate source of good ethics, but I have been moved to wonder whether this is right.

There was a statistic on the programme just now - that one in 8,000 women die in childbirth in the UK, versus one in eight in Mali. The plea was for some money to reduce post-partum deaths in Mali - it would cost us a fiver per mother.

I was tempted to contribute, but then thought - what will be the costs of saving that life? Not just now, but in the future? Do the Malians have the infrastructure to support all the extra children thus produced?

Are we, by our sentiment, storing up more charity cases for the future?

Let's get our own country in order first, and understand what we can afford - then we can worry about what we can afford in the long term for charity to our bretheren.

For charity is not charity at all if it will lead to future suffering.

Apologies if I offend anyone from the charity industry, but there I am - you may vilify me as you wish.

Tuesday 10 March 2009

Muslims protest - Brits arrested.

I'm personally against our government's adventurism in Iraq and Afghanistan, but the news that Luton Islamists disrespected and protested against the Royal Anglia Regiment on its return from duty disgusts me.

These lads (and lasses) were doing their duty - our outrage should be at the arseholes who send them into danger while troughing huge expense accounts and pensions at our (and our soldiers') expense.

And who got arrested at the demo?

Two white British locals who were outraged enough to take action.

The policemen responsible should hang their heads in shame.

Monday 9 March 2009

Julie Myerson - the worst of Britain

I have been listening to the radio and watching Newsnight today, and the insufferable Julie Myerson has been droning on and on about how her son has a 'skunk habit', and she kicked him out of the house after reading some shite by a Yank about 'tough love'
.
Sorry, Julie, but I have smoked some of this 'skunk', and it's not a patch on the Afghan black we used to get in the 70s. You may well have read a few bits of propaganda written by idiots, but there's no substitute for experience - and I can tell you that cannabis isn't addictive or harmful in the least.

What you experienced was a hormonal teenager - if you weren't capable of dealing with that, then you're not a fit mother, and you deserve all the scorn that the press has heaped on you.

If and when you grow up, then have more kids - until then, please leave parenting to us adults.

No Moderation - post what you like

This is intended to be a free blog, for free British citizens.

I shall post what I like, and welcome any comments - language may be polite or not depending on your mood.

I'm an old leftie - I believe in the NHS and that the welfare state should be a safety net, but I'm Welsh and proud of the fact, and resent the Islamifiaction of British society, so if you're a Neues Arbeit supporter, then expect me to disagree with you.

No news to post yet, but check out Old Holborn and Guido Fawkes for two of the brightest bloggers in the UK today, and Annaraccoon for some humorous discourse.

Bri.