Clairwil Is Violated By An Asshat!
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: Carmen-Bizet
Topic: Persecution.
Afternoon,

I have received a message from one of my readers whom I'll call Ewen regarding Asshats. I have reproduced said message below which I think makes Ewen a guest blogger. Please make him welcome.

An asshat is a term applied to one who has their head firmly ensconced in their nether regions. Alex Kapranos for example. Also applicable to one who has their head up the arse of a second party.

Must go. My Hotmail is doing evil things. It seems to be loading the MSN shopping page whilst i compose my emails, thus wiping anything i've typed. The Bastards!
Good luck with the Cabbage thing. You know it makes sense.......................


Anyway I have some terrible news. For the last seven years or so my boyfriend and I have been concealing the fact we are an item from our respective families. There is no real reason for this, neither of us are married and we're both over the age of consent. We are just a pair of weirdos who would prefer not to be asked about wedding bells and the patter of tiny feet by aged relatives.

Anyway we were happy, we weren't harming anyone. Anyone thinking rationally about the situation would conclude we should be left alone. However people being in the most part a chilling combination of nosiness, stupidity and sheer evil, it couldn't last. Someone has blabbed! An asshat has grassed us up to my boyfriends entire family! Naturally he has denied everything and will continue to do so as long as I'm running the show. But I'm fucking furious with the grass. So furious I am at a loss as to how to punish them. I don't have any dirt on them so can't expose them to any needless in law horror. What makes it worse is that I have never so much as raised my voice at the person who committed this terrible crime. They have no reason to wish to harm me. They knew I didn't want his family or mine for that matter sticking their beaks in. Why in the name of God have they done this? They have kept quiet for 3 whole years, why spoil things now.

I just feel betrayed and violated by the whole business particularly as until now I considered said grass a friend. Well no more, I shall never so much as look at them from now until I die.

Why are people so intolerant? Why does everyone demand that everyone behave in exactly the same way? Why can't they mind their own fucking business?

Answers please.

Cheerio

Americans Or American Speakers Wanted Urgently!
Mood:  quizzical
Topic: Baffled


Evening,

As some of you may be aware I am only Scottish and as such ignorant of the sophisticated ways of the fine citizens of THE BEST MOTHERFUCKING COUNTRY IN THE GODDAMN WORLD YOU FREEDOM HATING RAGHEAD SON OF A BITCH. That is why I need your help

What in the name of all that is sacred and holy is an 'asshat'?

I know what an ass is: it is an arse in the playground and a donkey in the classroom. I know what a hat is, I own several, but an asshat. Why would someone put a hat on their arse? I realise it is an insult and it has a pleasing ring to it, but where did it come from? Why not an assshoe, or an assbra? Is it a weedy way of saying asshole in front of children and maiden aunts like the woman in my work who say's fishing instead of fucking?

Anyway if anyone can enlighten me I'd be very grateful.

Cheerio

The Kick Ass Cabbage Campaign
Mood:  celebratory
Topic: Hurrah!
Evening,

As you will recall I have recently been somewhat annoyed by the antics of Bank Of Scotland management. It is with great pleasure I can advise you that this blog campaign has attracted nationwide support.

Visit here for your free cabbage picture to send to Stacey.

If you need more convincing read this.

A Cauliflower And Other Tales Of Authority Gone Mad!
Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: Something In The Way-Nirvana
Topic: The horror the horror!

Evening,

I see our friends in The Bank Of Scotland, who I ranted about a couple of posts back, are up to their old tricks again- only now having agreed humiliating staff with cabbages is unacceptable, are using cauliflowers. These money grabbing fuckpigs need to be stopped. Send them a vegetable now!

Moving on to more serious matters, I read in today's papers that the police's original account of events relating to the shooting of Jean Charles de Menezes would appear to be total lies. From what I can gather it would now appear that armed police just decided to shoot some poor bloke for having the misfortune to live in the same building as some terror suspects. For the sake of justice and public safety I just hope the gun wielding pig that carried out this murder faces full criminal proceedings and is locked up for a very long time. Although I suspect this is unlikely given that he has already been rewarded for his shooting skills with a free holiday.


Cheerio

Orange Madness And Kapranos Goes Aristo
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Christine-The House Of Love
Topic: Anger Is An Energy.
Evening,

As long term readers will be aware I am a martyr to my nerves so you can imagine the state I was in yesterday when a Drumcree style siege occurred yards from Clairwil towers on Glasgow's High St. There I was minding my own business, parading about my house in a kimono imagining I was a geisha when I heard an Orange walk pass. I went to the window only to confronted with a very smart flute band being followed by the scum of the earth. The scum of the earth then proceeded to make monkey noises at two black students who had foolishly decided to cross the road at this point. I have to say I was very disappointed by the shiny new anti racist police failing to respond to this at all, especially as I was hanging out the window shouting 'baton the fascists.'

Anyway after that the whole situation descended into farce when the walk tried to continue straight down the High St rather than turn the corner onto Bell St.It was fucking hilarious,police vans screeched across the High st and blocked them in and a fifteen minute stand off ensued.A few of the band tried to break through police lines whilst the rest of the band played top and totally non-bigoted tunes like 'Follow Follow' and that shite about
'being up to the knees in fenian blood'.And people wonder why I despair for humanity.

Moving on to posher matters, I read in todays paper that Mr Kapranos from Franz Ferdinand has purchased a mansion in Dumfrieshire. I have no objection to this in principle, the man is entitled to spend his wages how he likes, I just wonder what made him leave Glasgow. After all there are a fair few mansions scattered about our outskirts and some very swish houses in the suburbs. Could it be that he wants to live somewhere nice, perhaps somewhere you can walk about unmolested by junkies? This is what gets my goat about these people,42 year old,
rich boy Kapronos can swan about writing songs about his junkie pal Robert Anderson whilst the rest of us who live here need to put up with Mr Anderson's thieving ways and Kapranos/Derbyshire is miles from the consequences. Of course if any of the members of Franz Ferdinand really wished to help their 'misunderstood' junkie pal they'd pay for him to go through rehab rather than buy mansions.Instead they write derivative wee tunes to show off about being pals with a real life junkie.

Cheerio

Jesus Christ! A Cabbage!
Mood:  incredulous
Now Playing: Repeat-The Manic Street Preachers
Topic: Firebomb The Bank




Hello,
Words fail me! I see in today's Herald that The Bank Of Scotland are in hot water for their staff motivation tactics.

To give you some background I had the awful misfortune to work in a bank for six years and am still fucking traumatised by what those evil bastards did to me. I swanned in a happy 23 year old and limped out having been perilously close to madness, alcohol addiction, obsessive compulsive behaviour and having developed a fondness for self mutilation. So I speak from experience when I tell you that almost without exception team leaders and supervisors in these pits of hell are nearly always prematurely old, fat, deeply conventional Daily Mail reading, Bridget Jones loving fascists.

With that off my chest, let us begin. Todays story concerns a 'manager' called Stacey who works in the Great Western Road branch of The Bank of Scotland. Anyway waste of sperm and egg Stacey decided she would motivate her staff by placing a cabbage on the desk, in full view of customers, of the staff member with the poorest sales figures which could only be moved when their figures improved. Anyway the poisonous, no doubt painfully suburban Stacey picked the wrong man when she decided to give young Darren the cabbage treatment. I should point out that Darren had just returned to work after a bout of meningitis hence his low sales figures. If any of the other staff in the branch were decent thinking human beings they would have responded to this corporate, childish bullying by going out and buying cabbages to place on their own desks and refusing to sell a single product until Stacey was sacked. However that didn't happen and instead young Darren's dad has contacted the press and the union who have correctly condemned the practice 'medieval and unacceptable'. It get's worse though, apparently HSBC got into trouble last year for making staff take off an item of clothing for failing to meet sales targets.

That is what disgusts me most about banks, they can be making millions or even billions in profits yet staff are to be put under constant pressure to rake in even more money. When I was imprisoned in a bank, if a customer called to ask for a #5000 loan you were supposed to put the hard sell on them to take #10,000 with insurance. Even if you thought the customer would struggle financially as a result or was already struggling financially you were still expected to encourage them to take bigger loans to 'consolidate' their debts.

I have launched many a campaign on this blog which you have all ignored but this time I urge, I beg you all to join in. Think of all the times in your life you have been made to feel like rubbish, when someone has humiliated you so completely that you wish you could disintegrate and cease to exist or when you have been so angry but powerless and wished the force of your hate alone was enough to kill your tormentor. C'mon we've all been there. So my request to you on this humid evening is to do at least one of the following.

1. Post a cabbage to Stacey, The Bank Of Scotland, 701 Great Western Road, Glasgow, G12 8RB.

2. Post a picture of a cabbage to the above address if your too skint/stingy to pay the postage.

3. Place as many cabbages as you can at the entrance of your nearest Bank Of Scotland.

4. Close any accounts you have with The Bank Of Scotland and write to tell them you are doing so as a result of the 'Great Western Road Cabbage Incident'.


Go on.

Cheerio

Mr Pond Is Back....Oh He's gone again!
Mood:  lazy
Now Playing: Harper Valley PTA- Dolly Parton
Topic: Alone, Alone, Alone


Evening,

Merciful Jesus! good old Mr Pond is back. He's running off to Italy and then the depressingly named East Dulwich, but he's not dead so that's a weight off my mind.

Robin Cook however is actually dead and I note that Tony Blair will not be attending the funeral. I am outraged by this for a number of reasons not least that the peerless John Mcririck is annoyed by it. I also remember that earlier in his reign of terror Blair found time to issue a statement calling for the release of Deirdre Rachid from jail. I should point out for my hordes of international readers that Deirdre is a fictional character who was imprisoned during the course of a story line in Coronation St which would suggest Tony has a rather strange set of priorities.Thirdly I am opposed to virtually anything Blair does on principle. He would however have my full support if he shot himself.


Cheerio

The Devil Looks After His Own.
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Hurt -Johnny Cash
Topic: Aimless Post


Evening,

I have a good excuse for not posting much this week. Every time I tried to get on the internet I got a message telling me I was dialing the wrong number. After phoning various helplines and harassing baffled staff in Mumbai call centres, I managed to identify the culprit as my phone which has taken to dialing random numbers. I have now replaced it and promise I will never leave you so long again.

I'm a bit concerned about dear old Mr Pond, he hasn't posted since 19/07/05. Where can he be?

I was out doing a spot of shopping this morning when I learned that Robin Cook is dead. Whilst I wasn't a huge fan of Robin Cook, I very much admired his stance on the Iraq war. It's fucking typical, a murdering terrorist bastard like Tony Blair has heart trouble and no matter how hard I wish stubbornly refuses to die and poor old Robin Cook cops it instead. The Devil, it would seem, looks after his own.

Thats about all from me. As an experiment I am going to put a request for Tony Blair's death into the special 'magic pyramid' my increasingly mad mother bought me to see if it works. I will of course keep you posted.

Cheerio

Oh My God! Sienna Miller Is Up The Duff!
Mood:  caffeinated
Now Playing: Jolene-Dolly Parton
Topic: Aimless Post


Evening,
Here I am knitting bootees and a matinee jacket after hearing the exciting news that 'she who dresses in the dark', Sienna Miller is six weeks pregnant. What marvelous timing! Still it's not too late to abort.

Moving on to more exciting matters a ripple of excitement swept through Easterhouse today with the news that 'The Happy Haddock' has a new and exciting menu. In addition to their usual lukewarm deep fried items, they are now offering toasties and baked potatoes. But that's not all a charming young lady behind the counter reckons that they can get 'anything you want' added to the menu except houmous which I suggested in a moment of mischief.
And as if that isn't enough they will also be doing lattes and cappuccinos.

I must say Easterhouse is getting very continental these days. My only concern is that some of the rougher elements might start naming their children cappuccino or latte with that amazing tendency of the criminally insane to give their children names which scream 'social services intervention urgently required'.

That's all for this evening. I shall of course keep you informed on The Happy Haddock's progress towards their first Michelin star.


Cheerio

I Am Being Fleeced By Experienced Con-Artists!
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: Discotheque-U2
Topic: Dear God I am so bored.
Evening,
Nothing much has happened except that I am losing money at an alarming rate. For reasons too dull to elaborate on I have managed to sell not one but three items at a loss on ebay. So much for that money making scheme!

I did a spot of shopping at the weekend and managed to be hypnotised into buying a concealer for ?23. ?23! I've never been so shocked in all my life. All I can say is that a better get laid as a result of that purchase!

Other than that, my life is incredibly dull at the moment which will no doubt please the powers that be. Having read this fine post about alcohol advertising I can only conclude that the government plan to put us all in giant playpens lest we harm ourselves. I can't understand all this 'health' hysteria. We are governed by people who think it's unacceptable for someone to choose to smoke, drink or eat themselves to death but is happy to sacrifice countless human lives in a phoney war to suck up to America.

Cheerio