@bullstuff2
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Steve I suspected that the new SW would be garbage: all the critics and the media were giving it large and bowing the knee. I liked the first couple of films, then for me it all got samey. That’s what happens in Movieland, ‘sequels’ ‘prequels’ and all that repetitive krap. Watching some of the football played by your lot was mesmerising at times. Bournemouth, a very organised team usually, looked like rabbits in the headlights I thought. The only criticism I have is, why so few goals? I thought they were going to get a cricket score.
BL, yours look like a different team under Moyes. I recall some time back saying that he is a good manager, obviously looking for the right club, as was Arnautovich. Many of my cousins live in Stoke, it’s where my parents came from. My cousin Bill, who was closer than my brothers when we were young, is a Port Vale* supporter who goes to Stoke when Vale are too far away. He says that “Arnie” just grew p****d off with the manager and his tactics, too concentrated on not losing and too many old players around him. He reckons Shaquiri will be next to go. Arnie seems to have found a good fit at your club as well. Our Bill also says he had a good laugh, as a Vale fan, watching MoTD2 and the Stoke fans barracking and throwing stuff at Arnie.
*the most famous Vale supporter is Robbie Williams of course. His granddad was related to my dad. In their original non-League days, Vale had one of my Gt2 Uncles in goal. That’s because the original ground was in Burslem, the “Mother Town” of the Potteries. My Gt2, Gt1 and granddad, all born there, down in the smoke from the pottery kilns. All Vale supporters.
A Football History lesson! What next?
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I'm out.I come from a very Socialist background, as I have said here before. My grandfather was a founder member of the Independent Labour Party at the turn of the 19th century:
Granddad always remained an ILP man until his death and always bemoaned the inability of the its offspring the Labour Party, to cling to its original beliefs. In WWI that meant becoming a pacifist and a Conscientious Objector. He spoke up in Hanley market place against the War throughout the four years of conflict and he was reviled for it throughout the Potteries, arrested twice but rescued and bailed by his friends. As the years went by and the slaughter intensified, grandad was slowly joined around his soap box by severely wounded men from the trenches who spoke about the horrors. They were all drowned out by “Rent a Mobs” of men who appeared young enough to fight, but were all in civvies. This was all told to dad and myself at the age of 8 by grandad, one year before the cancer took him in 1954. Right from a young age, I could have conversations with him and by 1953 he knew his disease was going to kill him, so I believe that he was going to unburden himself about his past to the son and grandson that listened to him.
This may all seem irrelevant to the discussion here. It is not, because of some words grandad wrote for me a few weeks before he died: “You are a Thinker lad – there is always one of us who is. You may choose whatever politics you wish when you grow up, but avoid these and never accept their words as true: The incompetent, the weak, but most of all, the extremists.”
I was given the envelope with these words, at 16 by my dad. I had brushes with the Communist Party of GB at 17 and gave it the elbow. My brother was a Labour Councillor who was ejected from the local Party for backing working miners (he and my other brother, nephews and in-laws were all working) during the ’84 strike. He was re elected as Independent Labour when the local NUM were similarly rejected by all the local mineworkers, and the UDM came into being. He was hated by these ex- Labour Councillors, for associating and working with the “Class Enemy” Conservatives on his Council, in order to build new housing in the village for Seniors and young people. I wrote his speeches and taught him how to deliver them. I met politicians and potential politicians, from all persuasions. I liked some, detested a few and was totally indifferent to most, who had nothing to offer ‘their’ people but their own ambition. If my big brother had lived past the cancer that killed him at 59, I believe he would have made it to Westminster. He had the support and would have got the votes.
That is my background: I am, on the face of it, a Socialist, but I am not to be put into any box that easily. Listening to politicians, of all persuasions, has made me , if not cynical, then at least not inclined to easily believe whatever they say, or whatever is said about them. (the latter should be viewed with more disbelief than the former.) I can correspond with my former Conservative Councillor just as well as with my new Labour Councillor (a young lady who takes a very jaundiced view of her Leader) I have met and been spoken at by striking miners, SWP activists, Anarchists, a Cambridge Uni student who thought she was supporting working miners until one of them raped her, and a Nottinghmashire Tory MP who refused to apologise for lying to me in print. And not forgetting one Arthur Scargill, a few years before the’84 battles. My brother took me to an NUM ‘do’ in Sheffield and I was buttonholed by this ugly, mouthy guy who tried to involve me in a conversation, which was plainly meant to be a one-sided harangue about his own barmy ideas. I tried 3 times to interrupt, then jammed my heel down onto his foot, turned and walked away. My brother was cracking up, the S. Yorks. NUM Mafia not pleased to see their leader hopping about and using such basic language. We left.
So I am very much aware that there are politicians of both sides of the Brexit divide, My political “education” has continued from the age of 8 to this day. The only words I can offer regarding the self-inflicted wounds this country is suffering today, and will continue to suffer, are these:
If/when the situation changes, it will not be for the best. We are in for some hard times which will make the financial, economic and political situation worse. But it makes no sense to apportion blame: what is going to take place, will happen.
And within 3 years, there will be a majority Labour-led government.
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I'm out.Both sides lied to us. It was nothing but a sick pantomime, with Cameron playing the rear half of the donkey, the front half might as well have been BoJo. Two groups of politicians took sides and they all either lied, or exaggerated for effect, in order to convince the UK electorate of which vote to make. The result can be seen as divisions: across generations, populations, localities and the constituent nations of the United Kingdom itself, which is in greater danger of breaking up than it has ever been.
Take a look at FB sometime, observe the spread and growth of flag-waving, xenophobic, fascist organisations. Then observe how many ‘ordinary’ people cheer on their dumb, foreign-hating pronouncements. I even count some of my relatives amongst these people: for instance, a certain nephew wants to “Deport All Muslims NOW!” I asked him if this applied to his cousin’s neighbours, a lovely young 2nd generation family who help my niece to look after her husband, a seriously ill stroke victim. That same nephew is a BNP member and is always trumpeting Britain First on FB. That is the extreme side of Brexiteers you might think. Well it isn’t. There are millions who think like that. Brexiteers who are ordinary, decent people, are unfortunately in that same camp, by association.
As for our PM: who made BoJo Foreign Secretary, decided to go to the country when it was obvious that Corbyn was gaining voters, then have appealed to TEN Irish politicians from a right wing party to save her own government: weak is not the word. Desperate, misguided, appeasing: add your own here.
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I'm out.No, don’t fancy a Chromebook. Don’t use or like Chrome, Hdd too small, screen even smaller than the Sammy. I want a desktop replacement but not some of the uses of a desktop. My old self-build is long in the tooth now but it’s been really under used for some time. Like having turned a Testarossa into a Pickup!
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I'm out.The wife is in charge of the looking after. Im just the dumb driver and the cash point. Also the one all will blame if we don’t find snow
None of the above, are optional. Been there. ??
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I'm out.Received and replied, thanks. ??
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I'm out.Don’t lose the girls.
Two girls on an outing, I do that with my grandaughter and her mate now and again. Always enjoy it better than when I used to take the boys out together. Girls ask more intelligent questions, IMO. But are noisier when excited!?
Good luck! ?
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I'm out.I wish we could use WiFi calling at home: our village has absolutely carp mobile coverage. I looked up what I could do about this, but it’s not possible because (a) I didn’t buy the phone direct from EE and (b) it’s a Wileyfox, SIM free. As I write this, at 00:40, I have the magic EE symbol on the phone. By tomorrow morning, that will be gone, until after approx. 10 pm. There is no point switching operators: no one has coverage here.
Bob – is one of THESE any use to you?? I’ve moved off EE now onto SKY. It worked well for me for a year or so before I swapped. I wouldn’t have thought you would have problems with getting it activated as they sell them on Ebay/Gumtree etc. If you think it’ll help, let me know.
Just PM’d you Jay: I have asked EE and I can register that Box myself on their website.
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I'm out.Snowdonia forecast for Saturday Steve:
Click Friday and “Further Outlook” for Saturday, there’s a PDF for a Printable Forecast, maybe better getting that tomorrow.
Don’t get your wounded gob cold, frostbite in the holes would be something else!
When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.I wish we could use WiFi calling at home: our village has absolutely carp mobile coverage. I looked up what I could do about this, but it’s not possible because (a) I didn’t buy the phone direct from EE and (b) it’s a Wileyfox, SIM free. As I write this, at 00:40, I have the magic EE symbol on the phone. By tomorrow morning, that will be gone, until after approx. 10 pm.
There is no point switching operators: no one has coverage here.
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I'm out.Quiet and calm here, been drizzling all afternoon and evening, after a morning of sunshine. Frost beginning to form on cars.
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I'm out.That’s a cracker Dave, wonder if BT OR will use that to save money?
In my area, Virgin are about to end their programme of laying out cable in Louth. Suddenly BT & OR are everywhere. One of my neighbours has had a fault for weeks, they came to fix it and traced it all the way back to Louth outskirts. Suddenly the ADSL users here have doubled their speeds. To a max of 5 Mbps Up.
A Virgin engineer I spoke to in Louth was laughing at the way OR were buzzing about. Asked for my postcode and said they are projected here within 18 months “at the outside”. They want to lay out our village and move out into others.
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I'm out.Just like a little Brummy mate in BAOR, Barry Evans…………….. His missus was from the East Belfast back streets and their arguments were legendary.
If unintelligible!!!
I had the phrase book! Barry also asked me to go live in his flat with him until his missus came over. The flat was 11 Km from camp, in the middle of a German village. He knew no German, I was fluent, but even if he had spoken German, locals stood no chance of deciphering his accent. First week he washed his civvy clothes, I looked in the spinner, to see bits of 250 Deutschemarks spinning around the top. He had washed his shirt which had his rent in the pocket! Barry was always an accident looking for somewhere to happen. His missus was good for him, she had been a WRAC corporal who left to work in the NAAFI, kept him organised. When I last contacted him about 5 years ago, they were still together, having had 6 kids and umpteen grandkids. His accent is even worse now, after living back in Brum for many years. Didn’t put his missus on the phone, which was a relief, as I had forgotten her name.
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I'm out.This one’s for Lee –
Just like a little Brummy mate in BAOR, Barry Evans: His missus was expecting any day and he wanted me to accompany him on a train to BMH* Rinteln. (Car of the time was wrecked in a German field) We had to change trains and had a 35 minute wait in a German Bahnhof cafe. Barry bought the coffees and asked for a bag of crisps, in Germany called chips and pronounced ‘Ships’.
I was the interpreter between a mad little Brummie and some German canal workers who could not speak a word of English. When I got through to both sides, the Germans asked what ‘ship’ was in English. I told them it meant Ships, or Schiffen in German. Barry scattered some crisps along the bar and proceeded to refight the Battle of the River Plate. Having sunk the Graf Spee, he then laid out more crisps and refought the Battle of the Atalantic, sinking the Bismarck. The bar was covered in smashed bits of crisp from British Naval salvoes and Barry was in full Patriotic Brummie voice, having not noticed that the German audience had gone quiet. I dragged him onto the platform: “They recognised the names of the bloody ships you gobby Brummie idiot!”
We got the train without incident. When we got to Rinteln, Barry was the father of a boy. His missus was from the East Belfast back streets and their arguments were legendary.
*British Military Hospital.
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I'm out.That’s a relief Steve. It was giving me a headache. ??
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I'm out.My public love my stories! I am legend!
A legend with a streaming cold atm
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I'm out.Aaaaahhhhh Currywürst und Pommes Frites! A staple diet of the British soldier in BAOR, available everywhere including street kiosks. I was once passing a pub in downtown Detmold, when the owner, who knew me and my mates, beckoned me in and pointed to a table at the back. Ther was a mate from my unit, passed out into a half-finished plate of Currywürst, dressed as usual in his neat sports jacket and pressed flannel trousers, white shirt and blue tie, shiny shoes. And covered in curry sauce.
Currywürst: so good, the guy was trying to inhale it. ? Turns out he had received a ‘Dear John’ from his fiancée that morning, decided to get ratassed, became hungry.
Dave I was appointed barman of the Corporal’s Club in my BAOR unit (I was “volunteered”.) Before I was ‘appointed’, it was on the huge attic floor of the barracks cookhouse, and burnt down one Saturday night. The only place they could find to house another, was outside the gates of the camp. We were given a load of money and I brought in Germans to decorate and furnish. I was at the time living with my previous SWMBO, a German lady (?) in her own Gasthaüs, so I had contacts. I discovered that, because it was outside camp, our club was not subject to Army and NAAFI rules about the booze and foodstuffs we could take. So I asked a German company to supply us with Warsteiner beer: the Warsteiner brewery also built us a beautiful polished pine bar and a Disco. I made enough money out of 9 months on that bar to buy a brand new car. I had beer, soft drinks and snack stuff at prices better than the NAAFI and I used my Frau’s contacts to get foods. It was a big place and we made the most of it, I got some German Rock bands in*. I was I believe, the best known squaddie on that camp, for that year, along with my ACC cook mate and DJ, who also bought a car out of it. All good things come to an end though: eventually the NAAFI made so much noise about falling NAAFI bar profits, that the Army had another bar rebuilt in a cellar. I said I would not make a fuss if they put me back on normal duties. I had a lot of fun with that place and I was offered many pints afterwards, but I had lost my taste for Watney’s Red Barrel and Younger’s by then, preferred lagers. Warsteiner is a great beer, I loved it.
*Mostly worked for peanuts and were krap, but my fellow squaddies were starved of music and usually off their faces.
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I'm out.I just got the worst mental picture of my life from this:
” Have a torquie car, I had to be real genital with it. ”
Please say you meant gentle, Steve, otherwise I will not sleep tonight, and it’s bad enough already with this damned bug, coughing and sneezing. ? ? ?
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I'm out.Well the local Weatherman was wrong yesterday: there was a very hard frost last night which has persisted throughout the day, but no snow in our village. 2 miles down the road, Louth had a dusting. I will watch local BBC news tonight, there are always idiots sending in emails and tweets when he is wrong. I mean, the guy has an ‘ology, FFS!
FYI Steve and Dave, SWMBO can handle pliers well, also other tools. Her dad was a Station Master who used to take her around engine sheds at weekends, she would wind up working with the engineers. She is the Tomboy of 3 girls, I think she horrified her sisters. (Still does) She built walls with my FIL around their bungalow when she was 13. Marrying an engineer and workshop foreman suited her, as she didn’t mind me coming home stinking of oil. In fact I think she misses it, but I’m not going to ask…
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I'm out.Dave: ” Bob, use your noodle. If the postie was going to pinch the contents you wouldn’t get a box that looked like it’d been investigated. You wouldn’t get anything. He probably sped off because the time pressure this time of year is unbelievable. If you ever get a chance to visit your local Mail Centre do it. You’ll not see it at it’s busy times but you will get an idea of the scale of the operation. ”
Yes, I get that Dave, I was never going to have a go at calling any RM staff thieves 1) it’s unprovable 2) waste of time 3) where would I start? . What I believed was a ‘Temp’ was on again today and I met him at the door, showed him the package and he immediately began excusing himself. I stopped him and quietly said that I was not going to criticise or complain to RM or Amazon, knew the damage was not down to him. However, why did he not show the damaged side to my wife, so that we could either refuse the parcel and return it, or accept it as our risk? He was apologetic and said that he had only just started this round after moving from Grimsby (which he hated, don’t blame him) to Louth Villages, which he always wanted. I asked if he was almost done with the round, as I know they finish with our village. Then I offered him a cuppa if he had time to call. Which he did, and SWMBO stuffed him with her cakes.
Now we have a friendly postie! The last one we had retired in the early spring and he knew us all, so I took time to tell him about all the people and addresses I knew in the village. Moving from Grimsby back streets to country village rounds, must be a culture shock. I bet he offers to return any damaged parcels in future, which would be a result.
Richard, what you describe is exactly what happened a few weeks ago here, with another bigger and more badly-damaged parcel. The previous Postie just showed me the parcel on that occasion and asked if I wanted to accept or return it. I took the Return option and Amazon sent another item. I also returned Plusnet’s ‘Hub’ a few weeks back, as I intended to use my own router. No quibble: Postie just asked for an electronic sig and returned it.
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I'm out. -
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