Category Archives: Shitbiscuits

Slut Shaming

I don’t usually post anything about feminism. I leave that to the people who are really good at it like Tenderhooligan but this week has been particularly irritating and I’m sick to my teeth of all the people I work with and their double standards that flop about like dying fish in the sun. Yeah, think about that metaphor for second. The people at “someone else’s lilypad” are OK most of the time. Some of them work hard. Some of them care about their families. Some of them make pretty good friends. On the other hand, some of them are lazy, irritating back stabbing bitches who shouldn’t be trusted with anything sharper than play school scissors.

One thing that has particularly annoyed me (and there has been a lot this week) are the few instances of slut shaming that I’ve picked up from the gossip round the kettle and water cooler. Someone is pregnant. Ooh, they must be a slut. Someone got drunk and went home with a bloke. Ooh, they must be a slut. Two people are going out. She’s obviously a slut.

FFS leave everyone else alone! What other people do is none of your business. It isn’t even interesting. We’ve all had sex. Some of us with more than one person. Some of us with more than one person at a time.* There isn’t anything particularly shocking about human sexuality once you’ve actually started having sex. Shock horror, people enjoy it. Women enjoy it. They’re allowed.

Get over it.

The ever so smashing ZOMGitsCriss has posted a wonderful video about Slut Shaming.

*By way of illustration you understand.

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Filed under Debate, Lazy Blogging, Modern Etiquette, Shitbiscuits

Economist help required

Money, its a crime.  Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie.The newspaper headlines this week are packed with political tales of which party is promising the biggest tax cuts.  I’m not an economist so you’ll forgive my ignorance I’m sure.  Didn’t the world’s governments just throw trillions of tax payer’s money at the financial markets to prevent them from collapsing?  Did I just dream that or something?

Please correct me if I’m wrong about this but these trillions of dollars have to come from somewhere don’t they?  The £500 billion that my government took to pay the banks so that tey could lend it back to us with interest, that came from the taxes that we pay doesn’t it.  It could be direct taxation from income, taxation on the things we buy or taxation on business that produce things or sell services.  Every time there is a transaction of some kind the state takes a cut. 

They use this money to pay themselves, keep the NHS functioning, pay for the two wars that we’re involved with, give cash to Europe, pay for unemployment and pensions, pay for roads, libraries, policemen and women, pay for social care of all kinds (we can see how well that is funded), education for our children, independent scientific research and a whole host of other things. 

Taking £500 bn of that money away means one of two things to me, as I’m not an expert at all.

  1. They will need to cut spending on all the publically funded things that they could have spent the money on.
  2. They’ve borrowed it and will have to pay it back with interest.  This will mean that there will be less money to spend on publically funded things.

I’m sure I’m going to just go out there nwo and put my ignorance on my sleeve for all to see.  If there is less money in the pot to spend on things because it’s been spent already then doesn’t this mean that the state needs to recoup that loss in order to keep spending by raising taxes?  Or reduce public services.  One of the two.  Surely?

Reducing taxes will reduce the amount of money the government can skim and less money will be coming in to the public’s coffers.  Have I got this wrong somewhere?  OK, people will have more money in their pockets and so might spend more which will lead to more transactions where the state skims a bit off the top but if that is the case then why not cut the tax burden right down to nearly nothing and the country will be rich.  We’ll have wonderful public services because we’ll all have cash falling out of our ears and the state will be there to pick up our scrappings.

Tell me lies, Tell me sweet little liesI suspect that it is a Big Lie to get votes.  Come on politicians, you can be honest with us, we’re not stupid.  We understand that things might be tough and we might be a bit skint for a bit, tell us that and let us bite the bullet now so we get it over with all the quicker.  Honestly, we’ll thank you for it in the end.  A Big Lie just makes us distrust you all the more.  So, stop that.  Stop it at once.

It can’t be that easy?  What have i missed?

5 Comments

Filed under Bad things happen, Shitbiscuits, You decide

Bad Mood

There are some people in this world who just don’t seem to understand that they irritate other people.  I am not one of these.  I know that I annoy lots of people, I know that I am pedantic, sarcastic and occasionally mean.  I can be intolerant of views and downright condescending when people do things that go directly against the actions that they could take if they bothered to look at the evidence.  People on diets tend to receive my scorn for example.  Diets are utterly ineffectual except for temporary weight loss.  What is need instead is a change in eating habits for sustainable health in most people coupled with an increase in exercise.  People who try diet after diet but lose no weight need to give up diets, go for a walk and eat their greens.

This isn’t about diets.  This is about people who are annoying but don’t know that they are annoying. Mrs The Pain in our office is one such person.  She wrongly believes that everything that she says is cute, funny and amusing.  In fact this is rarely the case.  Most often what she says is just plain stupid.  She also seems to think that the world revolves around her.

I got to work this morning with my usual alacrity.  I have a modest walk to work of about two miles which usually warms my muscles and gets the blood flowing so my excess heat can be dissipated and I don’t overheat.  However Mrs The Pain thinks that I will be freezing cold when I arrive at work because she drives to the door and then sits in a chair gossiping on the phone.  Despite assumptions about talking and hot air this doesn’t warm a body much.  Mrs The Pain also wears clothing suitable for a central heated house, heated car or summer walk on the beech.  She makes no change for approaching winter weather except to turn the radiators on in the office.

When I arrive at work it is always uncomfortably hot.  Typically it’s 25ºC (77ºF in American) which I would usually consider to be hot.  The radiators are all on and the windows are tightly closed.  In previous winters I’ve sat down and opened my window till the temperature drops to a more acceptable 21ºC although I’d be happier at 19ºC.  I’d take off surplus clothing but I already wear the minimum.  Apparently opening a window when you’re too hot is an issue that makes people complain and “piss off to another office” isn’t an acceptable response.  I’ve tried underhanded tactics like turning the boiler off and I’ve tried being reasonable but she persists in keeping to her own view that it is too cold so the heating goes on.

A compromise would help.  I could be a little too warm and she would wear a cardigan, she could leave the heating off and I could leave my window closed.  I’ve suggested as much but Mrs The Pain is unmoved.  If she is cold then the heating goes on.  I’ve even turned the boiler up and the radiators on full and taken the day off so she can experience a day of being far too hot.  She doesn’t care.  Her view is the only one that matters.

Anyway, today I arrive at the office and it’s like a furnace.  I hang my coat up and go outside to cool down but comment on the heat politely in the hope that she’ll turn it down a notch.  Apparently this means that I am in a bad mood.  I wasn’t until I’m told by Mrs The Pain that my being too hot and asking for some consideration in a shared office is a sign of my own bad attitude.  Now I’m in a stinking mood and am plotting how to torture, kill and dispose of her corpse.

Any suggestions?  We don’t need a patio at work so my first plan is out.  Such a shame really, no-one would ever think to look under a patio for a body.

8 Comments

Filed under Modern Etiquette, Reasons to be cheerful, Shitbiscuits, You decide

Old

No-one who I work with remembers Rentaghost except for the really old farts.

rent2

They don’t even know who Metal Mickey is and I’m worried that they might not know about Roobarb and Custard.

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Filed under Shitbiscuits

Banking: FAIL

Apparently a second lender, Bradford & Bingley, are to be nationalisedBanking FAIL

What fun.  What can we learn from this second fiasco?  Lending with few checks to verify identity or income is a high risk form of lending.  High risk lending has more chance of failure than lending only what you are likely to get back.  The returns may be lower and the shareholders and executives might get smaller bonuses but the company has less of a chance to FAIL when things go wrong.

It’s OK though.  The banking insurance scheme will bail out B & B and our taxes will shore up the bank for the next five years until (if?) the other banks can repay the loans to take over B & B.  We don’t live in a vacuum and this money has to come from somewhere.  Do you think that it is more likely that the money will come from customers and tax payers or from wealthy executives?

That raises a question for me.  What would happen if, rather than bail out these lenders, the government allowed capitalism to take it’s course and the businesses to fail?  How much would we suffer as a result compared to shoring up the failing industry?  I’m asking because I don’t know.

I wonder how many people are feeling this today?

Mortgage

23 Comments

Filed under Motivational Posters, Shitbiscuits

An Open Letter on Commuter Etiquette

Dear Mr WideHead

Picking your nose on the train is something that should be done either not at all or subtly.  Not at all being the preferred option.

My fellow commuter, this morning you received my most harsh stare of disgust for your blatant delving of your nasal cavities in search of an elusive booger.  When you found it you very obviously examined it, even going so far as to turn it in the dim morning light to properly appreciate the awesomeness of your sinus’ accumulated waste.  Perhaps you were checking for dura matter, I don’t know.

What I do know is that I let out a audible “Eww!” of revolt when you popped the green and fetid lump into your mouth and started chewing.  You seemed to enjoy it as you were rolling your tongue about in your mouth and murmuring happily.  You even licked your lips.

I think I should probably thank you.  I have been over eating recently and fear that I may have piled on a few pounds.  Thanks to your demonstration of snot munching I am certain that I won’t be able to eat either the noodles I had planned for lunch or the cheese and onion pies I’d put in the fridge for tomorrow.

Your faithfully

 

Honest Mr hoverFrog

5 Comments

Filed under Modern Etiquette, Shitbiscuits

Bad Joke…in more than one way.

I just got this joke in my mail box.  It started off so well with a nice little rant at government inefficiency.  Have a read:

Dear Minister,

I’m in the process of renewing my passport but I am a total loss to understand or believe the hoops I am being asked to jump through. How is it that Bert Smith of T.V. Rentals Basingstoke has my address and telephone number and knows that I bought a satellite dish from them back in 1994, and yet, the Government is still asking me where I was born and on what date? How come that nice West African immigrant chappy who comes round every Thursday night with his DVD rentals van can tell me every film or video I have had out since he started his business up eleven years ago, yet you still want me to remind you of my last three jobs, two of which were with contractors working for the Government?

How come the T.V. Detector van can tell if my T.V. is on, what channel I am watching and whether I have paid my licence or not, and yet if I win the Government-run lottery they have no idea I have won or where I am and will keep the bloody money to themselves if I fail to claim in good time. Do you people do this by hand? You have my birth date on numerous files you hold on me, including the one with all the income tax forms I’ve filed for the past 30-odd years. It’s on my health insurance card, my driver’s licence, on the last four passports I’ve had, on all those stupid customs declaration forms I’ve had to fill out before being allowed off the planes and boats over the last 30 years, and all those insufferable census forms that are done every ten years and the electoral registration forms I have to complete, by law, every time our lords and masters are up for re-election.

Would somebody please take note, once and for all, I was born in Maidenhead on the 4th of March 1957, my mother’s name is Mary, her maiden name was Reynolds, my father’s name is Robert, and I’d be absolutely astounded if that ever changed between now and the day I die!

I apologise Minister. I’m obviously not myself this morning. But between you and me, I have simply had enough! You mail the application to my house, then you ask me for my address. What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthals working there? Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don’t want to activate the Fifth Reich for God’s sake! I just want to go and park my weary backside on a sunny, sandy beach for a couple of week’s well-earned rest away from all this crap.

Well, I have to go now, because I have to go to back to Salisbury and get another copy of my birth certificate because you lost the last one. AND to the tune of 60 quid! What a racket THAT is!! Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day? But nooooo, that’d be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You’d rather have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut off, then find some tosser to confirm that it’s really me on the goddamn picture – you know… The one where we’re not allowed to smile in in case we look as if we are enjoying the process! Hey, you know why we can’t smile? ‘Cause we’re totally jacked off!

I served in the armed forces for more than 25 years including over ten years at the Ministry of Defence in London. I have had security clearances which allowed me to sit in the Cabinet Office, five seats away from the Prime Minister while he was being briefed on the first Gulf War and I have been doing volunteer work for the British Red Cross ever since I left the Services. However, I have to get someone ‘important’ to verify who I am — you know, someone like my doctor… Who, before he got his medical degree 6 months ago WAS LIVING IN PAKISTAN…

Yours sincerely,
An Irate British Citizen.

It could have been quite funny without the racist little dig at the end.  For shame Mr Irate British citizen, for shame. 

There is, of course, a very good reason why we have doctors and nurses working in NHS hospitals who come from other countries.

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Filed under Cull, Shitbiscuits, You decide