Sunday, 25 November 2012

Cocky Fox

image removed

Editors Note:

Based on a tip from JuliaM  this was supposed to be a story of yet another vulpine attack gleaned from the News Shopper.

Unfortunately the in-house artist misunderstood the remit to ‘draw a cocky fox’ and the result was quite frankly obscene, not to mention anatomically incorrect, 

Words of advice have been issued, mainly along the lines of  that he “needs to get out more”  and “stop reading so much hentai”  and a line has been drawn under the incident.

However this does mean alas that the post has now been ‘spiked’ for the foreseeable future.

If however you would like to read about the ‘cocky fox’  the story can be found here

'Cocky' fox mown down in Blackfen after attacking teenage couple

There are currently 235 comments and they are a delight , a much better slaughtering of the story than I could achieve.

Thank you for your time

Pavlov’s Cat 

Mr Pavlov’s Cat .  Editor & In-House Artist

Sunday, 11 November 2012

I Resign, Now Give Me Money

payoff

This is something I've never understood, or to be correct I do understand it and it sickens me.

Now whenever I have left a company of my own choice, all I have expected is money earned and any outstanding holiday pay. Some have made me work my notice, some I have left on the day I resigned because of commercial confidentiality, but technically I'm still employed by them to the end of my notice period.

But it was my choice to leave, and so I forego any outstanding arrangements. Redundancy is a different matter, yes I do expect a bit of a payoff. It was not my choice, but if I were to resign then the company owes me nothing and I accept that.

But it appears to be that when you reach a certain level within a company, those sort rules don't apply. No matter how badly you fuck up, when you get to director level you get a payoff no matter what.

If I fuck up, I'm sacked, no recourse, no payoff, out of a job.

Yet, if I am a director, or one of the Gods, I get a payoff, even if I fuck up, or lose the company money, or get caught doing nefarious things, or resign and even if I quit to go somewhere else they will pay me off.

Now I realise that these sort of contracts are negotiated by those who  benefit from them. Often not by themselves but for those that will follow after.

It is an old boys network, you scratch my back and sooner or later I'll scratch yours. It is a merry-o-round of company directors. Entwistle will not be out of a job for long, the next job he finds will also be in the hundreds of thousands of pounds salary grade. They look after their own, and this is always extended to the political class, no more so than it has today, they look after their own.

There is some sort of mind-set within the powers that be, that only people who have run big projects or big companies are capable of running big projects or big companies.

This is why Capita wins all the government contracts despite never delivering on time or on budget, This is why you see the same names cropping up in directors lists over and over again, the failures the hopeless and the damned.

It is like ‘Beaten Wife Syndrome’, this time they'll do it right, they've learned from their mistakes, it won't happen again, they love us really.

There was an old joke, when I was growing up in the 80s, what's the difference between an optimist and a pessimist?

The optimists are learning Russian and the pessimists are learning Chinese.

Me, I've got shares in piano wire.

Sons of men who stand like Gods

We're at war all the papers sayWe will win I read todayWe are strong it wasn't usWe are right who started this?
Leave your work I just left school
Leave your home I am no foolTake up arms it left me strongSound alarms the school bell rings
Sons of men who stand like GodsWe give life to feed the causeAnd run to ground our heathen foeOur name will never die this time will be forever
Join up here I wave goodbyeWe need you, oh my breast sighsHave no fear now I must tryGod will be with braver men
Take the vow I know it's rightPraise the flag the good fightWe're at war I'm on my wayWe will win why do I pray?
Sons of men who stand like GodsWe give life to feed the causeAnd run to ground our heathen foeOur name will never die this time will be forever
I wait here in this holePlaying poker with my soulI hold the rifle close to meIt lights the way to keep me free
If I die in a combat zoneBox me up and ship me homeIf I die and still come homeLay me where the rose is sown
Sons of men who stand like GodsWe give life to feed the causeAnd run to ground our heathen foeOur name will never die this time will be forever


Thursday, 8 November 2012

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was A Boer?

image

I don’t think so Daily Telegraph 

I would think the references to , Kitchener , Sudan, Deserts  and indeed even Fuzzy Wuzzy  , place his military service firmly in the Sudan , quite long way from South Africa.  [Oh look the wikipedia entry even mentions Dad’s Army]

Still par for the course of the lazy , ignorant journalism I’ve come to expect these days. 

 

Whilst on the subject of Dad’s Army ,  does anyone else like me remembering as a child laughing at the slapstick antics of Corporal Jones  and yet re-watching them years later find it leaves them cold and unamused. 

But at the same time revelling in the masterful comic timing and acting of  Arthur Lowe and John Le Mesurier .

Thursday, 1 November 2012

Ook

Probably called him a ‘monkey’

monkey

click for story