THREE PROBLEMS

Problem One – the War in Gaza

Am I missing something?

Palestinian militant groups send rockets into Israel from the Gaza Strip and Israel retaliates. No body wants to see a war, death and casualties, but there is a very simple solution:

Stop sending rockets into Israel.

It’s bloody simple isn’t it? What is Israel supposed to do? If the French were bombing us (their neighbour) would we just sit back and take it?

I don't think so.

As for the demonstrators around the country – demanding a cease-fire and condemning Israel – why don’t they just be grateful they live in a democracy that allows freedom of speech and religion etc. These idiots even attack the British Police like it’s our bleedin' fault. And we see the usual old jump-on the band wagon hacks like Tony ("The Ego") Benn and Ken Livingstone all marching around too. Oh my Gawd - it's pathetic....it really is.

If you poke a lion with a stick he is going to bite you.

Hamas – My Arse



Problem Two – the Economic Meltdown of the UK (and the rest of the World)

Gordon Brown is a toss-pott – a totally useless Scottish Gett. Am I right? He is not the saviour of our country at all, but one of the reasons why we are in this mess.

He allowed the Banks to lend massive amounts of cash to idiots who could never pay the loans back.

Again, am I missing something?

If you borrow – don’t you eventually have to pay it back?

Couldn’t that miserable looking gett see that we were heading for financial ruin? An economy, which evolves around inflated house prices, will eventually dive into the sand. Isn’t this as obvious as the nose on your face?

And as for the get-rich mentality – we have become like a body builder who beefs up his neck muscles so that they eclipse his head.

What is the point? It’s ugly and utterly, utterly meaningless. Why do folks need more money than they can even spend?

Who has bewitched us into believing that wealth is all we should aspire to? Fooled into believing that riches and material things are all that matters in this world?

- Celebrity culture stinks

- Overpaid sports stars stink (of cologne no doubt – but it makes a very bad smell)

It’s a fools’ paradise with fools’ gold. Bugger off: long expensive holidays – new cars – bigger houses – better jobs – better education. Bollocks to the lot of it.

A reshaping of our Western World is taking place.

You’d better believe it.



Problem Three – who gives a monkey’s cuss about Cricket?

Come on BBC – we just don’t care about that boring game – so STOP going on about it.

HEARTY PARTY

Welcome to 2009 P Club.

Hey Listen.

P had a party for New Year’s Eve; I never get invited to parties so I must have my own. And what a bleedin’ nightmare it was.

Anyone who comes to P’s party is up for a fun evening of PARTY GAMES……it’s compulsory. I have loads of kids to look after…..I cant just let them sit in a corner and look bored. And I don’t leave the kids with grandparents whilst Mr and Mrs P bugger off down a nightclub.

No – for me – family life is my whole life.

So – it’s Hearty Party for the whole of P household.

In Mr P’s parties there’s none of that drinking shed loads of booze, taking drugs or smoking fags. Done that years ago – was boring then and is boring now. P’s body is a temple – never fill it full of krap like that.

Truth is – I have to cater for all ages at The P household parties: little kids (loads of them); teenage boys (with their mates), friends and neighbours. This year we invited some neighbours (who have been going through some tough times) and Mrs P also decided to invite some folks from Belgium.

Can you bleedin Adam and Eve it? A bunch of Belgians? In our house !

So – I get party games going…..yes Party Games. Crazy – zany – wacky games. But it was like winding up the dead. So many folks just refused to play. But – Mr P never gives up – and yes the buggers did play the games. I bullied them into it.

But it was hard work. And them some of the little girls started arguing and crying…..and we had kids sneaking off to play = Play Station.

I spent the whole time cajoling folks – rounding folks up – telling kids off – encouraging them to join in – looking for the dogs – serving drinks.

Why do folks come to a party and then sit po-faced and refuse to speak to anyone unless someone speaks to them – and then refuse to take part in Mr P’s (compulsory games) – I resorted to threats of violence in the end – seemed to work.

Oh Gawd – how I dislike introverts who refuse to socialise. Quiet people are okay up to a point – but when invited to a party they should either join in, bugger off quick – or better still – refuse the invite by saying:

“I am a quiet person….I will not make any bloody effort to get involved – but will sit in the corner expecting you to entertain me the whole bleedin’ time – and on that basis – I must decline your kind invitation”.

Thank Gawd for Mr P’s kids.

My kids are up for everything – and my teenage boys are totally bloody fearless – they don’t give a monkeys cuss – will play any game I ask them to – will dance and have a laugh at anything. And they don’t mind a bit of a scrap either…

During our party they decided to strip off down to their boxer shorts and go for a wander around the village – freezing cold with 3 mates. Got chased by some old bloke who took offence at their sprightliness.

I even made them wear compulsory lion masks – my boys wore them – but my girls point-blank refused.

HEARTY PARTY

Then one of the dogs goes missing – had to go looking for the little monkey; found him down the road.

I totally cocked up the food – told someone (on the phone) to bring a cake and mentioned there were 26 people coming to the Party – the idiot brings 26 pudding and cakes. Mrs P blames me. We had so much food – cakes all over the place – bottles of wine wherever you turned.

I drank one glass of mulled wine all evening. Too bloody busy getting folks to join in on my party games.

ANYWAY

At 11 o’clock I wrapped up the whole party – sent the boring buggers home – and The P family went off to another party – with about 100 people. That was a funky time.

What did you boring buggers get up to P Club?