Monday 31 August 2009

Hundreds Killed, Thousands Maimed - MOD Saves A Few Quid

"It's The Way I Tell Them!"

Useless Bob Jobsworth is the absolutely ideal Secretary of State for Defence for NuLiebore.

He presides over the most inefficient and self-serving department in Shitehall, responsible (!) for such wondrous fuck-ups as the Chinnooks with no software, sending troops to war without the right kit in order to hide ministerial mendacity, cutting the medical provision for injured combatants, going to court to try and cut compensation awards, and sneakily withdrawing benefits from those soldiers so badly wounded that they cannot get decent jobs.

Now to save a few bob, soldiers are to train with blank ammunition.

Next they'll be ordered to shout "Bang!" at the fucking Taliban.

Yet McCavity flies off to Afghanistan for a photo opportunity...shame no one had the guts to throw him off the helicopter in the middle of Sangin and let him negotiate direct with the Taliban.

The Penguin

Sunday 30 August 2009

Pass The Bucket

Is there a bigger or more odious fucking hypocrite in the world than Tony Bliar?

I can't think of one.

The Penguin

Saturday 29 August 2009

The Van Saga Continues

There's a large Turquoise Elephant parked outside my house, next to Gloria Mundi, the rusty old Transit van. After parting with close to £300 I am the proud owner of 4 bits of metal courtesy of a specialist vehicle converting company, which my mechanic has to weld to the underside of the brute in order to prevent my being able to load more weight on it than would make the vehicle weigh more than three and a half tonnes overall.

Then I have to take it to a HGV testing station to be examined, and they will issue me with a new plating certificate showing it to be a van suitable to carry loads such as would not exceed said tonnage. Then I can get it a PLG van MOT, get it insured, and then go through the nonsense of re-licensing it as a PLG van.

In the meantime, having racked out the inside of the Turquoise Elephant and loaded everything I need onto it, I am now forced to transfer everything back onto the Transit in anticipation of said welding and examination and MOT. Then of course, post approval, I have to move it all back onto the Mercedes. (Around 500 fence pins, 6 kilometres of rope, a 10m by 4m plastic marquee, a large red burgundian-style medieval-looking tent, a modern family-sized tent, enough surface plumbing kit to run half a mile of pipe with 8 taps, more than enough cabling, several tripod lighting rigs, various metal signage and fixings, camping essentials, two rolls of nasty plastic fencing, sundry tools for every eventuality).

My mechanic is unimpressed. He thinks that the adjustment to the suspension on the rear axle will make absolutely no difference whatsoever given the size of the springs and the scale of the van. Still, it all makes work for the minions and is a nice little earner for the specialist vehicle converters.

And eventually I'll have the big fast safe van that I need.

The Penguin

Baron Martin of Springburn, of Port Dundas in the City of Glasgow

With typical underhand subterfuge and cowardice, NuLiebore waits until Parliament is in recess before making Gorbals Mick a fucking peer.

Even in these days of disgraced and down-graded so-called "lords" (such as Baroness Uddin, and Lord Truscott) this is a disgrace. This fat oily trough-pig should have his pension stripped off him, not given yet more access to the trough.
Still, I doubt many will use his chosen title. The cunt will always be "Lord Gorbals".

The Penguin

Thursday 27 August 2009

You Might Try And Hide The Shit, But The Smell Lingers!

"Never Mind Lourdes, There'll Soon Be A Miracle Cure In Tripoli!"

Never mind the distinctly dodgy "evidence" that banged up the Libyan terrorist for Lockerbie, there is something very smelly indeed about his being released on compassionate grounds.

Voldemort's shitty fingers are all over it, McCavity is so silent it is deafening, and the smell is getting stronger. And Weasel Straw is trying to distance himself from the decision.

Still, so long as BP once again get their hands on the oil that they used to think was theirs back in the good old days I don't suppose it matters very much.

And upsetting the Septics can't be all bad, especially if it all leads to a major scandal when the shit leaks out into full sight.

The Penguin

Wednesday 26 August 2009

Bloody Hell, A Judge Gets It Right!

Money Can't Buy Good Taste!

Completely ludicrous case is thrown out by a Judge. What a surprise, how refreshing.

And the utter arsewipes who brought the case are shown by their wonderful dress sense to be cunts of the first division.

The Penguin

Good Fucking Riddance, "Teddy" Kennedy.

"Hello, Gorgeous! Can you swim?"

Well that's one huge fucking hypocrite dead, plenty more to choose from.

Son of a bootlegger who told Roosevelt Hitler would beat Britain, cheat, drunk, playboy, and guilty of manslaughter if not murder, supporter of the IRA, do-gooding bleeding heart stinking fucking rich liberal wanker.

Shame it was cancer of the brain, not much to work on there.

The Penguin

Friday 21 August 2009

MRSA And C Diff. For Voldemort, Please!

"It's only this big, but as it is benign, it has to be removed!"

Voldemort is apparently going into hospital to have the only benign bit of him surgically removed.
Is it too much to hope that he cops both C Diff. and MRSA?
The Penguin

Thursday 20 August 2009

Sad Indictment By Benedict Brogan on NuLiebore

First, credit where credit is due. Not everyone is worse off after 12 years of Labour. Some have done quite nicely, thank you. All that effort has paid handsome dividends. For them, success is measured in pounds, and things can only get better. They are progressive – progressively richer.

Tony Blair has the millionaire's property portfolio and the bank balance to prove it. Gordon Brown earns far more than he needs to pay his cleaner. Dozens of former ministers are even now in the revolving door that takes them effortlessly from government to corporate directorship.

Quangocrats stroke their gold-plated public sector pensions. The bankers you and I now pay for are once again earning fat bonuses. And Peter Mandelson boasts that he has no mortgage on his £2.2 million Regent's Park townhouse.

If Labour fails to pull out of its death spiral in the polls, and does indeed crash in flames some time next spring, a lucky few at the top will be able to walk away from the wreckage with a smile and, like the man in the Charles Addams cartoon, murmur "back to the old drawing board".

But the many Labour was supposed to look after are not escaping so lightly. On every measure that is dear to our current political leadership, the numbers point to a record of failure that vitiates everything that New Labour supposedly stands for.

Thousands of teenagers leave school barely able to read. Grinding child poverty is on the increase. Hospitals weighed down by bureaucracy struggle to make us healthier. Six million now rely on out of work benefits. One in six young people is neither in work nor in education. Entire neighbourhoods are blighted by feral children from households that bear no resemblance to what the rest of us understand as families.

Wherever Labour turns its eye it is confronted by the reality of its record in office, of promises that were not kept, and grand ambitions that have not been fulfilled. Already on the Left you can hear the wailings of those who ask why all those good intentions and billions spent have amounted to so little. The charge sheet lengthens by the day.

It is the poor who are most likely to be the victims of crime, yet violent offences are up by nearly 70 per cent since 1998, while robbery has risen by 20 per cent. It is the poorest areas where anti-social behaviour has the most debilitating effects, yet the number of recorded incidences has reached nearly 10,000 a day.

Reducing child poverty was supposed to be one of the big breakthroughs delivered by this Government, yet in the teeth of a recession it has risen for the third year in a row, with four million now living below the poverty line.

On most accepted measures, the gap between the richest and poorest continues to grow. The poorest 10 per cent of households have seen their weekly income fall for the past four years. It is now £9 lower than in 2002, and at the same level it was in 1999. Over the same period the richest 10 per cent of homes have seen their incomes rise by £37 a week. To Labour's shame, inequality is higher than when Mr Blair came to power, and at its highest level since 1961.

Those who relied on Labour to protect their interests have nothing to show for their votes, save a bleak existence dulled by ever greater doses of welfare sedative. Labour has failed its heartland supporters, and is now resorting to a "soak the rich" posturing that is destroying the winning coalition assembled by Mr Blair in 1997.

David Cameron spotted the opportunity at the turn of the year when he said it was time to talk about "progressive conservatism". While there was philosophical merit in reminding us that, from Disraeli to Thatcher, the Right has traditionally been the forcing house of great social advances, it was the politics that caught the attention of Westminster: here was a Tory leader taking the debate deep into the Labour heartland and casting himself as the saviour of the poor.

George Osborne used the dull days of August last week to develop the theme. The torch had been passed, he declared, and the Tories were now the "dominant force in progressive politics". It was a well-judged piece of summer mischief that reinforced an underlying truth. A withering riposte from Peter Mandelson about the Tories finally signing up to the liberal consensus could not disguise the Left's unease: it can see the liberal, reformist Cameron quietly stealing its clothes.

There is more to come. Chris Grayling, the Shadow Home Secretary who is in charge next week while the leadership triumvirate of Cameron-Osborne-Hague finishes its holidays, will return to the fray. The grid has been scrapped in favour of a renewed push on progressive conservatism that will hammer away at the idea that Labour has betrayed the poor and only Tory reforms can help them now. Expect to hear more about rebuilding Britain's broken society and the effects of long-term worklessness, alongside a concerted effort to nail Labour's "progressive failures".

To some, all this talk of progressive politics is a far cry from the red meat of traditional Tory discourse. The Conservative Right of the No Turning Back group is quietly steaming at the positions taken by Mr Cameron. Some even wonder whether the slog of Opposition and the odium of the voters after the expenses scandal is worth it. If all you end up with is a government that is "Conservative, Margaret, but not as we know it", what is the point? Only the prospect of power keeps them silent.

A poll for the PoliticsHome website this week found that voters of all stripes no longer associate "progressive" with "Left-wing" or even "liberal". Instead it is taken to mean "reforming", "modernising" and "enterprising", by a happy coincidence all values by which Mr Cameron wants to define his leadership.

The progressive label adopted by the leader is as much about posture as it is about principles of fairness, opportunity, greenery and security. It defines a new culture of openness and inclusivity that ranges from open primaries for candidate selections to his eye-catching public conversation about "Black Swan" threats this week with the thinker Nassim Nicholas Taleb.

Mr Cameron's fire is trained on Gordon Brown and the failures of a Labour Party that is neither caring nor competent. But he is also challenging those on his side who complain that the voters owe them more than rations, or whose Right-wing principles make them blind to the fears of the poorest, to think about how the party presents itself to an unsettled electorate.

Benedict Brogan

I think I agree with every word!

The Penguin

Wednesday 19 August 2009

The Police - Wasting Your Money and Tiime!

"What's That? Armed Burglar? Sorry, Madam, We're on Our Tea Break!"

A documentary film-maker was hauled into court on a charge of stealing electricity worth 0.003p.

But by the time the ludicrous case was dropped, the bill to taxpayers was more than £5,000.

Read more:

The ludicrous actions of the stupid police and the cretins at the CPS are sadly typical - and then they wonder why the public have such little confidence in the criminal justice system?

The Penguin

Tuesday 18 August 2009

Tragic Tale

In a run-down part of East London ( England ) recently, a fire destroyed a dilapidated four storey house that had been divided into four flats.

A Nigerian family of six internet con artists and full time benefit cheats lived on the first floor, and all six tragically perished in the fire.

A group of seven Islamic welfare cheats, all illegally in the country, lived on the second floor, and they too, all perished in the fire.

Six Albanian, gang banger, ex-cons - all claiming political asylum and living off the state for free - occupied the 3rd floor and they too, died.

And one middle aged British white couple lived on the top floor. They miraculously survived the fire.

The Equal Opportunities Commission, Amnesty International, Rights activists, black community leaders and the British Islamic Council were all furious at the apparent racial inequality of the situation. Why were just the British white couple saved? It was monstrous they claimed, and showed that systemic 'racism' still existed in all areas of public service - questions were raised in the House of Commons, the popular media picked up the story and within hours it was national and indeed international news .

Boris Johnson - Mayor of London, when questioned stated calmly that it would be unwise to jump to conclusions until the Police and Fire Service had completed their report. He closed by stating that he expected their initial assessment would be available within the next 36 hours - so perhaps it would be best to let the experts gather the evidence and report back before he commented any further.

The baying Press pack subsequently reported the interview in such way as to intimate that the Mayor was indifferent to suffering and was out of touch with the feelings of the whole East London community!

A large motorcade of representatives from all five groups, together with Harriet Harman - the Equalities Minister - drove [not on her bike] to the area and demanded a meeting withthe local chief fire officer. They made sure that a large pack of popular Press and TV had been briefed on the visit and so the motorcade was met by a huge gaggle of journalists, TV interviewers and cameras.

On camera, they loudly demanded to know why the Africans, Black Muslims and Albanians all died in the fire and only the white couple lived.

The chief fire officer quietly replied:-

"They were at work."

Not original, but very apposite!

The Penguin

After A Ten Year Holiday, This Piss-Taker Is Suing Us?

Alice-In-Wonderland doesn't come close.

After 10 years living here at our expense, and doing fuck knows what else to achieve a flash lifestyle, this cunt is suing the tax-payer (at the tax-payer's expense, no doubt!).

Another triumph for little custard face Woolas. Perhaps he deserves a promotion, we need to replace a Foreign Secretary who thinks terrorism is justified if it's killing nasty white South Afrikaans.

The Penguin

Thursday 13 August 2009

If Their Lips Are Moving, They Are Lying.

Fraser Nelson showing up more of Jonah and Voldemort's lies.

"Anyone listening to Lord Mandelson’s claim this morning that the Brown stimulus saved “at least” half a million jobs would have smelt a large, whiskered rat. The Treasury has tonight told The Telegraph that the 500,000 figure was a maximum estimate, not a minimum as Mandy claimed. Your baristas here at Coffee House have asked the Treasury to show us their study – not available, it seems. So we have submitted a Freedom of Information request for it. While we all hold our breath, it’s worth looking at this claim in more detail because it is a Brownie we are highly likely to hear again.

First, here’s Mandy’s comments to an exasperated (and sometimes almost speechless) Evan Davis on the Today programme this morning:

“The Treasury estimates that there would have been at least, probably far in excess of, 500,000 jobs lost in the recession had it not been for the Government's and the Bank of England’s intervention”

When asked, the Treasury points to an extract in Darling’s Budget speech on 22 April, when he said:

“Taken together, the total policy support for the UK economy is expected to protect up to half a million jobs.”

Over what timeframe? Darling didn’t say. But three weeks later, Brown pops up to make the same point in a party political broadcast - but claiming the jobs have already been saved. In his words:

“Thanks to lower interest rates and the action we have taken on the economy, almost half a million jobs have been saved or protected."

Anyone spot the other wobbler? The 500,000 figure includes the massive drop in interest rates to 0.5%. So this “jobs saved” figure is concocted by having someone at the Treasury guess how many more jobs would have been lost had the independent Bank of England kept rates as high as they were. Which was never, ever going to happen given that central banks the world over – from China to Switzerland – dropped rates sharply, and those with rates close to zero started printing money.

So why was someone in the Treasury commissioned to come up with this 500,000 figure to see what would happen if the Bank didn’t cut rates? What were the other scenarios: an asteroid hitting the City? The only possible purpose for such a calculation is to con the British public into thinking that jobs had been “saved” by the Brown stimulus when nothing of the kind has happened.

As far as I am aware, only one report has ever been done into the stimulus of November 2008 – by Oxford Economics, commissioned by The Spectator back in January. It found that 35,000 jobs (not 500,000, Prime Minister) would be “saved” by the stimulus this year. But higher taxes needed to pay for the stimulus will prevent a far greater number of jobs from being created in future years of the recovery. Some 91,000 fewer in 2012 alone. So Brown’s “stimulus” will cost far more jobs than it supposedly saves. I suspect the Treasury "study" was commissioned to cover this up.

There is something deplorable about the way Brown and Mandy can mislead the British public like this, make claims about half a million jobs saved then refuse to publish the basis of their claims. Obama published a detailed study (pdf) of how many jobs he thought his stimulus would save. He leveled with the American public: the deficit will be collected from your taxes, he said to voters, so here is what I think all this debt will achieve. All we get from Mandy and Brown is spin, and attempts to deceive journalists and the public."

Wednesday 12 August 2009

Anyone Know Much About Transit Vans?

Just a thought, since you were so brilliant (and quick!) at identifying the Fish and the Moth!

At some point (when funds allow!) I want (must!) replace my N reg. Transit 100 LWB with a larger capacity van. Preferably something that doesn't struggle up hills because it's carrying a full load.

I had been thinking of the Iveco Daily, having been advised to avoid the big Merc. Sprinters as being roomy but not good on the weight issue.

Then driving home from Bodelwyddan the other night I had a rear tyre blow out at 70 on the M6 near Stoke, and was quite impressed that the old girl stayed on the road and (almost) driveable to a point of safe stopping (off the Motorway, long stretch of well lit 3 lane road).

The RAC engineer was actually quite complimentary about the van, saying that the old Transits were very reliable and mechanically sound even if rusty, but he said the new ones were not as good.

So, if I decide to stay with Transits and look for a Jumbo version (ideally with the 4 wheels at the back!), does anyone know when they stopped being reliable? Or was he wrong?

Of course, any other information and advice welcomed.

The Penguin

Peter Connolly, A Nice Little Earner.

Bad enough that poor little mite Peter Connolly had horrendous injuries inflicted on him before being murdered by Steven Barker, Jason Owne, and his slut of a mother, but now the fucking useless twat of a father is clambering onto the gravy train as well.

"Traumatised" and in need of large wads of compensation to alleviate his grief. Fucking cunt can't get enough money to stop him being just as complicit in the mistreatment and murder of Peter as the rest of the imbeciles who left him in harm's way. What father could fail to notice the catalogue of injuries that should have been obvious to a fucking blind person? And just hand him back?

Still, it's good to see just how much money can be generated from one high profile little victim, isn't it?

Just think of all the cunts feeding on the corpse. Social workers, obviously, and the medical profession (including pathologists), police, journalists and newspaper publishers, local and national politicians, pundits, prison officials, probation services, and of course, not forgetting all the m'learned friends involved all over like a fucking plague. And all the compensation claims, from that fucking cunt Shoesmith onwards.

Meanwhile another anonymous Peter Connolly is being murdered every week.

The Penguin

Parking Ticket For Blears!

Serve the Ginger Minger right, parked on double yellows.

These fucking politicians think they are above the law!

The Penguin

Tuesday 11 August 2009

Bit "Justice-Lite", Don't You Think?

"It's all right, she was only a woman, and not even a true believer, innit?"

Road racing moslems knock down and kill a young white mother-of-three, and bravely leave the scene before attempting to pervert the course of justice.

Driver gets 3 years, so he'll soon be back on the streets and behind a wheel.

The rest get told off.

Where is the Justice in this? Come the inevitable backlash, the fucking do-gooders will be really surprised.

The rest of us will be delighted.

The Penguin

Tuesday 4 August 2009

Stepping Back To 1400 Or So

I'm off to North Wales for a few days - back late Monday.

The weather forecast is good, but as ever, unreliable. So fingers crossed as I'll be in a tent - and, for a change, the mob are coming with me from the start, rather than turning up for the weekend when I've done all the hard work.

Not that I anticipate them doing bugger all useful.

Now I have to do final packing and so on, and I have the pleasure of two 4 year old twins and a overloaded elderly Transit van to look forward to as we chug slowly to North Wales and the Middle Ages.

The Penguin

UPDATE TO 21st Century

The weather was great, almost perfect but rained overnight Sunday and onMonday, so a lot of soggy work and the beginnings of trenchfoot. Have to take my panama hat off to SWMBO and the PC, they got stuck in really well once the little monsters were asleep in the car. The bloody waterpipe has never been so well and neatly coiled up! Still past 11pm when we got away, and then a journey enlivened (!) by the Transit having a nearside rear tyre blow out at 70mph or so on the M6 near Stoke. Not an experience I fancy repeating, but says a lot for old Transit vans than we survived. I'd never have been able to jack the fully laden brute up, so we called the RAC. Got home about 5.15am.

Sunday 2 August 2009

Heaven Or Hell, Gordon?

While on his morning walk, Prime Minister Gordon Brown falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency dept at his nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat him in time.

So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates.

"Welcome to Heaven," says Saint Peter, "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a Socialist around these parts, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the PM.

"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from Gd Himself. He says that since the implementation of his new HEAVEN CHOICES policy, you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."

"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," replies Brown.

"I'm sorry .. But we have our rules," Peter interjects. And, with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down ...all the way to Hell.

The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course.
The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 22C degrees. In the distance is a beautiful club-house. Standing in front of it is Harold Wilson and thousands of other Socialist luminaries who had helped him out over the years --- John Smith, Michael Foot, Jim Callaghan, etc. The whole of the Labour Party leaders were there ..
Everyone laughing, happy, and casually but expensively dressed.

They run to greet him, to hug him and to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.'

They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Brown with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, Gord!"

"Uh, I can't drink anymore, I took a pledge," says Brown, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, son. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it just gets better from there!"

Brown takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the Labour Party pulled with the European Constitution and the Education, Immigration, Tough on Crime promises.

They are having such a great time that, before he realises it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Brown steps on the elevator and heads upward.

When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate.

So for 24 hours Brown is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or short-arse joke among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor. He doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special!

"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself. "Harold Wilson never prepared me for this!"

The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for Eternity."

With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Brown reflects for a minute ... Then answers: "Well, I would never have thought I'd say this -- I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends."

So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.

The doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of a barren scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, looking a bit like the eroded, rabbit and fox affected Australian outback, but worse and more desolate

He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.

The Devil comes over to Brown and puts an arm around his shoulder." I don't understand," stammers a shocked Brown, "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and a club-house and we ate lobster and caviar and drank tequila. We lazed around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"

The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us!"

Not mine, but apposite.

The Penguin

Bang To Rights, Now Bang Him Up!

"And No Morals!"

Corrupt Lord Taylor of Warwick has scammed £73,000 off the taxpayer.

Now he's wriggling and disembling and even playing the "racist abuse" card to try and defend the indefensible.
Pay back time, milord, followed by porridge.

The Penguin

£8 Million On Publicity And PR?

Seems that the UK Borders Agency spends an eye-watering £8 MILLION of taxpayers' money on publicity and "Public Relations".

Why bother, when they are capable of getting headlines through their own incompetence?

Phil Woolas must be so proud.

The Penguin