This is just a massive rant

Well, it's been a while.  What a lovely few weeks of weather it's been, which has meant for the most part, when I've arrived home from work, I've stripped off to my underpants and melted into a blob of beef dripping in the armchair until it was time for bed, I just haven't had the energy to do anything.  Also, the old man has not been very well - he was confined to bed and unable to even get up for a crap after catching leprosy of the knee, and thus all our holiday plans were thrown into the air, more of which later.  This also meant that I had to let two doctors and two nurses into the house, the house which has won the annual Mr Trebus Shithole Award for the last 9 years running. So that was a bit embarrassing.  I just laughed nervously and gabbled on like a twat to make them think I'm a bit mental....oh wait.......


Anyway, first, I have to get this off my chest.  Yes, I know everyone is fed up of Trump, but honestly, really?  So these poor people in America have had a hurricane, and they really need help to sort themselves out.  So what does he do?  Him and his gold digger wife rock up in their fucking ridiculous baseball caps (hers said FLOTUS - really?  Float-us?  Taking the piss, no?)  and he's all like 'oh wow, look at the turnout, look at all these people out here come to see me' - uh, no, you ABSOLUTE FUCKING CITRUS WINDBAG, they're all outside because THEIR FUCKING HOUSES HAVE BLOWN AWAY, YOU COLOSSAL FUCKING TURDGAP.  These people have lost their homes, their livelihoods, in some cases their families, the last thing they need is this total fucking clown with his face like a deflated spacehopper gurning at them and saying how great everyone is doing.  AMERICA - WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?


We were supposed to go to Silverstone for five days of MotoGP fun last month - this year we'd decided we would go an extra day, pay for spangly tickets to get in the paddock and have the chance to meet the top riders etc, however as my luck would fucking have it, the old man got struck down with this knee lergy (CPPD, or Calcium Pyrophosphate Deposition disease for those medical experts amongst you).  It's basically a bit like gout but not gout.  Anyway, the long and the short was he couldn't even get out of bed, he was in absolute agony, and our trip was mostly ruined.  What a selfish bastard.  We were supposed to go on the Wednesday, however after lots of different drugs, including finding a secret stash of Diazepam in the back of the drawer, by the Friday he was mobile enough to walk a short way, so we booked a last minute room at the Hotel Paradiso in nearby Milton Keynes, and up we got very early on the Saturday morning and salvaged two days of racing, despite him still being in considerable pain.  Now, I understand that it was nobody's fault that we couldn't go for the whole time, and we lost our money on the special paddock day tickets and the camping charge, but we'd still paid around £240 for the Saturday and Sunday tickets, so imagine my absolute fucking RAGE when we got there to discover that they also expected me to pay TWENTY QUID to park on the Saturday, and then another THIRTY QUID to park on the Sunday.  Very cleverly, they didn't publicise the price of the parking (except on their website, which I didn't look at) until you've parked and walked to the entrance, where a sign tells you to ring up the thieving sharks and pay over the phone.  Well FUCK THAT, I thought.  So I didn't.  And inevitably when we got back to the car on Saturday afternoon, I had a parking ticket, for twenty quid.  The same price as the parking.  We went back on Sunday, I didn't pay again, and I had another parking ticket, this time for thirty quid.  So for not paying for parking, they've just charged me the same as what the parking cost.  So it was worth the risk of not getting a ticket if you see what I mean.  Anyway, this rather garbled and lengthy rant leads me to my point, that is, these robbing fucking TWATS made enough money out of us that weekend, including food and buying t-shirts etc we spent in excess of £600 (not including the hotel, which was another £130 but that didn't get into Silverstone/Dorna's very deep pockets), so to charge that extortionate amount for parking is DAYLIGHT FUCKING ROBBERY, I felt like I'd been fisted by Dick fucking Turpin!  Sort it out you GREEDY BASTARDS!  It doesn't take Stephen Hawking to work out that if it was a little bit cheaper, more people would come, and you'd make more money in the end!


I know I've mentioned this before, but it is becoming more and more prevalent on the telly, and in turn is making me more and more ANNOYED.  These bloody adverts that use old songs sung in a breathy, slow fashion - but oh no, that's not good enough for Fairy Fucking Washing Liquid or whatever the shit is - no, they have to do it with nursery rhymes now - Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, not sung by a bunch of little cute kids, but by a woman who sounds like she's just been dumped and is about to jump in front of the 1745 from Paddington.  IT'S SO FUCKING ANNOYING!  I mute it whenever it comes on and I will never buy Fairy Washing Liquid again (unless it's on special offer).  And when I find out which pony-tailed, bum-fluffed advertising TWAT is behind this campaign, I'm going to fire a crossbow into his head, shoulders, knees and bollocks, knees and bollocks.


We've been following the latest series of 999 What's Your Emergency quite keenly, as it's following Wiltshire Police (which is where I live, stalking fans).  We like to keep an eye out to see if we know any of the total bad-asses that find themselves on the wrong side of Hot Fuzz.  Because there is mostly fuck all else on telly, we've also been watching all of these other shows like Police Interceptors, basically because we like shouting at the telly 'FUCKING HIT HIM WITH YOUR TRUNCHEON THE SCUMMY LITTLE SHIT' a lot.  But, you will not be surprised to learn, that it WINDS ME THE FUCK UP.  These double-hard little gangster wannabes that think it's fun to drive while banned, or with no insurance etc, in their pimped up Micras, giving it all the 'I ain't dun nuffink', they all need a fucking good hiding or a spell in H Block with Knuckles and Big Ron - but no, what do they get?  ANOTHER FUCKING DRIVING BAN.  What in fuck's name is the point of that? These little ratboys don't give a shit if they're banned, that's why YOU'VE JUST CAUGHT THEM DRIVING WHILST BANNED.  So why does our judicial system feel the need to give them another ban and a shitty little fine, that they will pay at a pound a week out of their jobseekers i.e. MY FUCKING POCKET?  They need to be hit where it's going to hurt them and possibly make them think twice about doing it again - a decent spell in the nick, and then in lieu of a fine take away their 50 inch telly, iPhone and X Box, and put their Micra in the crusher.  And yes, I know prisons are overcrowded, so here's the solution - bring back the death penalty.  That would free up some space if we fried murderers and paedophiles, and there'd be enough room for all these little badmen to be housed for a year at Her Majesty's pleasure (and Big Ron's).


Well, that escalated quickly, didn't it!