Namely, the Gaddafi's.
Sunday, 6 March 2011
Saturday, 5 March 2011
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
Friday, 25 February 2011
hi: exclam. informal. used as a friendly greeting.
Is this the world's first 'hi definition' blog post?
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Gaddafi. It's not his countless tics or endless talks.
Let's call time on him because he is a murdering thug.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
Monday, 21 February 2011
Watt makes a good copywriter
What makes a good copywriter? It's a vexed question.
Whatever your job, attention to detail is paramount.
As such, you may have been drawn by the potential slip-up in the above headline.
It would certainly have been possible to read it as a question. It has that certain 'sound'.
But rather than asking a question, I was merely stating a fact. Or, at the very least, an opinion.
Sound is important when it comes to language.
Bernie Watt, an erstwhile colleague, is a very good copywriter.
He is also a great musician.
When he writes, he instils rhythm.
It makes his work easier to read.
Of course, there are many other rules that go towards writing good copy.
Some are cast in stone, others cast aside.
But unless you make whatever you write easy to read, chances are it won't be read.
The fact that you've read this far must say something about my writing, if not my musical ability.
Maybe that explains why so much of what I write is crotchety.
Whatever your job, attention to detail is paramount.
As such, you may have been drawn by the potential slip-up in the above headline.
It would certainly have been possible to read it as a question. It has that certain 'sound'.
But rather than asking a question, I was merely stating a fact. Or, at the very least, an opinion.
Sound is important when it comes to language.
Bernie Watt, an erstwhile colleague, is a very good copywriter.
He is also a great musician.
When he writes, he instils rhythm.
It makes his work easier to read.
Of course, there are many other rules that go towards writing good copy.
Some are cast in stone, others cast aside.
But unless you make whatever you write easy to read, chances are it won't be read.
The fact that you've read this far must say something about my writing, if not my musical ability.
Maybe that explains why so much of what I write is crotchety.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Straitened circumstances. Screwed-up thinking.
It often brings a wry smile to my face when I see people whose occupations seem to have been pre-determined by the names that they were given at birth.
As an example, I've just had my hair cut by a chap called Jim Barbour.
And so it was, with slightly less amusement, that I read about the UK's highest paid official in either central or local government.
His name is Phil Dolan and it seems to me that the poor council taxpayers in South Somerset district council have been 'doling' out their money by the barrowload.
I suspect that having opted for a salary, pension and severance package of £569,000, Phil decided he has had his 'fill'.
To add salt to the wounds, two of his underlings will each have to get by on a smidgeon over £300,000 for a similar sort of package.
Suffice to say, while neither of them will go short, the payments are nothing short of scandalous.
To get clean away with all that filthy lucre from a district that has only 162,000 residents is impossible to justify.
Across the country, services are being cut by local councils in the name of efficiencies.
Libraries are living on borrowed time. Hospitals are in intensive care. And boy, do they need it. Even schools are having to re-learn the three R's.
Rationalisation and Redundancy.
Yes, even education has suffered - that was only two.
Okay, so let's add R-ithmetic.
As pensioners grow older and colder, fat cats are getting fatter and fatter.
But there is one bright spot.
For the time being, we should be able to suspend all cold weather payments for the elderly.
Their blood must surely be boiling.
As an example, I've just had my hair cut by a chap called Jim Barbour.
And so it was, with slightly less amusement, that I read about the UK's highest paid official in either central or local government.
His name is Phil Dolan and it seems to me that the poor council taxpayers in South Somerset district council have been 'doling' out their money by the barrowload.
I suspect that having opted for a salary, pension and severance package of £569,000, Phil decided he has had his 'fill'.
To add salt to the wounds, two of his underlings will each have to get by on a smidgeon over £300,000 for a similar sort of package.
Suffice to say, while neither of them will go short, the payments are nothing short of scandalous.
To get clean away with all that filthy lucre from a district that has only 162,000 residents is impossible to justify.
Across the country, services are being cut by local councils in the name of efficiencies.
Libraries are living on borrowed time. Hospitals are in intensive care. And boy, do they need it. Even schools are having to re-learn the three R's.
Rationalisation and Redundancy.
Yes, even education has suffered - that was only two.
Okay, so let's add R-ithmetic.
As pensioners grow older and colder, fat cats are getting fatter and fatter.
But there is one bright spot.
For the time being, we should be able to suspend all cold weather payments for the elderly.
Their blood must surely be boiling.
Friday, 18 February 2011
Lawyers on the payroll. Prisoners on parole.
There is scarcely a week that passes in which the term Human Rights isn't dragged ever deeper into the gutter.
This past week was a case in point.
And just in case the points escaped you, one related to prisoners' rights to vote while the other was to do with paedophiles who rail against their inclusion on the sex register.
Maybe if we were to tell them that the sex register is a place where you can register for sex, they would happily form a disorderly queue.
So what's going on?
Well, let's not just blame the vile wretches who perpetrate these crimes.
Let's also implicate the Human Rights Lawyers who perpetuate this 'I've been wronged' culture.
Are these lawyers really too lazy to carry on chasing ambulances or was banking too honourable a profession that they opted for a career change?
As decent humans, we demand the right to protect ourselves and our children by locking up dangerous criminals.
And as dangerous criminals, the flagrant disregard that they showed for the law of the land in the first place, ought to preclude them from having a say in who makes these laws.
In fact, I'm even beginning to wonder whether lawyers themselves should have the right to vote.
This past week was a case in point.
And just in case the points escaped you, one related to prisoners' rights to vote while the other was to do with paedophiles who rail against their inclusion on the sex register.
Maybe if we were to tell them that the sex register is a place where you can register for sex, they would happily form a disorderly queue.
So what's going on?
Well, let's not just blame the vile wretches who perpetrate these crimes.
Let's also implicate the Human Rights Lawyers who perpetuate this 'I've been wronged' culture.
Are these lawyers really too lazy to carry on chasing ambulances or was banking too honourable a profession that they opted for a career change?
As decent humans, we demand the right to protect ourselves and our children by locking up dangerous criminals.
And as dangerous criminals, the flagrant disregard that they showed for the law of the land in the first place, ought to preclude them from having a say in who makes these laws.
In fact, I'm even beginning to wonder whether lawyers themselves should have the right to vote.
Monday, 14 February 2011
ST VALENTINE. WAS IT CUPID OR ST UPID?
St Valentine lived as a priest in Rome. He also died there.
In fact, he was murdered.
So 'whodunnit'?
Rome is a city of romance. Even the name suggests that much.
The first two letters of romance are RO which is a homophone of arrow.
We all know about Cupid's arrow.
And Cupid, as we also know, is the Roman God of Desire.
Has the story come full circle?
Was it Cupid that killed St Valentine?
What might have been his motive or was he simply trying to instil some desire and his mischief 'misfired'?
Far-fetched?
Maybe so.
But then, who are the mugs that are fetching, flowers, chocolates and alcohol every February 14th?
In fact, he was murdered.
So 'whodunnit'?
Rome is a city of romance. Even the name suggests that much.
The first two letters of romance are RO which is a homophone of arrow.
We all know about Cupid's arrow.
And Cupid, as we also know, is the Roman God of Desire.
Has the story come full circle?
Was it Cupid that killed St Valentine?
What might have been his motive or was he simply trying to instil some desire and his mischief 'misfired'?
Far-fetched?
Maybe so.
But then, who are the mugs that are fetching, flowers, chocolates and alcohol every February 14th?
Sunday, 13 February 2011
I've been a wily Rover for many a year
Why do you think my kennel is next to that cute little bitch?
Woof! Woof!
Woof! Woof!
Saint Valentine's Day Massacre
Noses are red
though mine was once blew
Grammar is dead
And if this rhyme is anything to go by
Poetry is too
though mine was once blew
Grammar is dead
And if this rhyme is anything to go by
Poetry is too
The death of punctuation?
For anyone who believes that punctuation is not important, try explaining the difference between the following:
MAN'S LAUGHTER and MANSLAUGHTER
You're not laughing now.
MAN'S LAUGHTER and MANSLAUGHTER
You're not laughing now.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Press caught Prescott
THE PHONE HACKING SCANDAL
A typical conversation?
Prescott calls Dorneywood.
"Hello, is that the butler?"
"Yes, can I help Sir?"
"Hello Rab. It's John here. I'll be at Dorneywood this weekend. I'd like some croquettes on the lawn."
"Very good, Sir. And would Sir like the the newspapers delivered to his room?"
"Yes please. But make sure they are yesterday's."
"Yesterday's Sir?"
"Yes, I find they normally include a fish supper."
"Very good Sir."
"Oh and one final thing."
"Yes Sir?"
"Please don't use 'Sir' all the time."
"Mr Prescott?"
"No, try practising 'Lord'. I'm getting used to living like one."
A typical conversation?
Prescott calls Dorneywood.
"Hello, is that the butler?"
"Yes, can I help Sir?"
"Hello Rab. It's John here. I'll be at Dorneywood this weekend. I'd like some croquettes on the lawn."
"Very good, Sir. And would Sir like the the newspapers delivered to his room?"
"Yes please. But make sure they are yesterday's."
"Yesterday's Sir?"
"Yes, I find they normally include a fish supper."
"Very good Sir."
"Oh and one final thing."
"Yes Sir?"
"Please don't use 'Sir' all the time."
"Mr Prescott?"
"No, try practising 'Lord'. I'm getting used to living like one."
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Monday, 7 February 2011
Sunday, 6 February 2011
Shh!
I'm scared of dying but not of death
I live my life with every breath
For me the dentist holds no fears
I haven't had my teeth for years
To catch a cold is not an issue
If I can find myself a tissue ATISHOO!
The dark will never cause me fright
As long as I can reach a light
And cabbage ain't my favourite food
Though it can't be bad if it does you good
But there is one thing that freaks me out
I'll need to whisper....IT'S KIDS THAT SHOUT!
I live my life with every breath
For me the dentist holds no fears
I haven't had my teeth for years
To catch a cold is not an issue
If I can find myself a tissue ATISHOO!
The dark will never cause me fright
As long as I can reach a light
And cabbage ain't my favourite food
Though it can't be bad if it does you good
But there is one thing that freaks me out
I'll need to whisper....IT'S KIDS THAT SHOUT!
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