Never let it be said that the
bloody awful weather dictates my attitude towards life. However, I am in a bloody awful mood to
match!
The news from Britain as the
shambolic ‘government’ of talentless Conservative (have you any idea how
difficult it was for me to put a capital letter at the start of that word)
lower than vermin, self-seeking, inept, traitorous, bastards descend lower and
lower into the farce that is their approach to Brexit.
And my contempt for May
grows. And, no, I have no sympathy for
her as she is savaged by the liars and cowards with whom she has surrounded herself. Whenever I see her robotically defending the
indefensible and fell a smidgeon of sympathy, I only have to remember her tenure
at the Home Office and the heartless and ILLEGAL processes that she put in
place to banish any fellow feeling for her ‘suffering’ now. Her on-going failure at least gives a
re-reading of the “all politicians’ careers end in failure” as hers has been
failure in its more continuous manner.
To say nothing of her dancing.
It is a sign of desperation and
picking through the dregs that Pixie Cheeks Gove has been asked to take on the
barbed wire rimmed, poisoned chalice of Brexit Secretary. But he will only accept if he is allowed to
renegotiate! What world are these people
living in? Are they so secure in the
foreign investments that they can look on with equanimity as the rest (the
large rest) of us suffer?
I know that I do not command a
great deal of sympathy as I spend my retirement by the side of the Med here in
Castelldefels – but my pension is paid in pounds sterling and when I first came
to Catalonia a Euro was 70p; now a Euro is 87p which means that my pension has
been reduced by 20%, a fifth of my buying power has been wiped out largely
because of the stupidity of a discontented electorate listening to the lies of
the Brexiteers and believing that those Brexiteer had access to whole herds of magic
unicorns who would make all manner of things well! Rubbish.
Just recite the names of the most prominent Brexiteer and then ask the age-old
question, “Would you buy a used car” from any of them? Of course, you wouldn’t, so why entrust the
future of your country to the sick imaginations of these failures?
And that scum that has resigned .
. . and I paused there because my dictatorial watch informed me that I had been
sitting for too long and I needed to move about for a minute!
Perhaps its is just as well I walked away
from the keys. What do I achieve by
venting my spleen? I suppose it could be
considered cathartic, but apart from keeping my blood pressure within the green
range, cui bono?
It is, however, ironic that the “onlie
begetters” of Brexit are generally not in government any more and therefore are
not dealing with the mess that they have made!
Nothing like denying responsibility, but I suppose they have the superb
example of Cameron to take as their guide for thoroughly selfish
irresponsibility!
And the back wheel of my bike has
been punctured or something because it was thoroughly flat when I attempted to
ride it to my Catalan lesson this morning.
And now I have to go and pick it up in the pouring rain. Again.
Much as I like the bike, I have to admit that I have been singularly
unlucky with the damn thing. I have
barely gone more than a fortnight riding the thing without some reason to take
it back to my bike man. The broken spokes
have become a running joke and the suspension is suspect too.
I am now thoroughly regretting
that I have ordered the updated, fat wheel version of the bike that I
have. It will have improved brakes and
gears, with a sexy paint job (sigh!), a full colour display and a back pannier,
or at least a framework to put one on, and the thing will have a sort of brake
light as well. As you can see, I am
easily persuaded with the trivia and don’t really care about the important
engineering of the thing!
The new bike should/might arrive
in time for Christmas and will give me something to worry about, while not
being able to ride the thing because of poor weather. It is all in the anticipation and not the
reality!
Anyway, to finish off a near
perfect day, after I have collected my bike, I then have to return to the
centre of town for a dental appointment.
If a day is going to be bad then it does make sense to concentrate all
the badness so that you can enjoy it a schadenfreude sort of way.
To keep my sanity, I have not
gone out of my way to find what new infantile lunacy the so-called Head of the
Free World has been up to. That can wait
until I am stronger!
