Skip to main content

Seedpods: An update

Gentle reader, I beg your forgiveness for the scarcity of updates as currently stands. This is due to working myself in the ground in order to buy presents to celebrate the festival of a deity I have no interest in. I'm not entirely sure how I fell for it but needs must etc etc. I have, however found a few scant seconds away from the coalface to enlighten you as to the ongoing saga surrounding the proposed EIGHT FUCKING METRES TALL BRONZE GLOWING SEED PODS that WLDC propose to plant at the top end of Aughton street ("The Gateway To Aughton").

Well, sad to report, but our council's far-seeing, nay, visionary proposal have met with naught but beefy disdain from the town's ruddy-cheeked traders. As one they have turned their broad, materialistic backs upon the mystical vision whch even now haunts my dreams. Yea, even the mighty Scott's butchers, which in its policy of selling as much game as is humanly possible I have hitherto regarded as a beacon of sanity in an otherwise godless world has proposed that the "monstrosity" (his words, not mine, I believe I have made my approval of the EIGHT FUCKING METRES TALL BRONZE GLOWING SEED PODS obvious). The traders, displaying a breathtaking ignorance of local governmental funding policies have suggested that the money be spent instead on "something for the kids" to which I would reply the kids already have their skate park to have fights on as well as all the Zeppelin they can drink, what the fuck else do they want? What about those of us who want to see EIGHT FUCKING METRES TALL BRONZE GLOWING SEED PODS eh? Eh? What about us? Should the proposals fail to go through I reserve my right to take to the streets. You have been warned.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...
Post a Comment
Read more

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...
Post a Comment
Read more

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...
Post a Comment
Read more