Dear Facebook "Friends"

This might seem like a strange thing to see on your feeds, but for the time being - and for a while yet - I am staying off and away from Facebook. I'm not quitting it, I'm not spitting my dummy out, I'm not throwing my toys out the pram...

But after this weekend, seeing the things quite a few of you have been posting, I just can't bear to scroll through my news feed and see what random nasty shit I'm going to see one of you sharing next.

So, Paris. The shit that went down there on Friday was horrendously awful. I don't know what it was about the attacks there - and, let's be honest, everywhere ELSE in the world on the same day - but it shook my faith in the world a little more than usual. It left me wondering at the state of our planet, and for some odd reason, I thought maybe my friends would be able to make me smile and pick me up.

And, for the most part, my friends restored a little of my faith in humanity. Only for a few of you to kick it back over.

Some of the nasty, racist, horrible things I've seen shared this weekend have me wondering how well I actually know some of my "friends", and as a status update alluded to on Saturday, how some of you managed to hijack the events in Paris and use them for your own agenda.

For starters, the religious bullshit some people were spouting was horrific. It's a well know, well documented fact that I am not religious. Not even a little bit. I've had my run-ins with some crazy religious sorts, but never have I outwardly slammed someone's religion. But the anti-Muslim crap some people were spouting... Just... Wow. Clearly, I am friends with some really intolerant people.

Blaming a whole religion for a minority of terrible people is akin to blaming all Americans for gun crime.

I'm not going to name the terror group responsible for these atrocities, I refuse to give them ANY space on my blog, but when people blame an entire religion for the actions of a few - congratulations, you're just backing up their agenda, and proving to other Muslims that their crazy point of views are correct, that the West hates them all.

Do a bit of research folks. You'll see that in the last two years, That Group have killed something like a quarter of a million Muslims across the Middle East. And yet, clearly, according to some of you, all Muslims are to blame.

Next, the people that somehow swung the situation to problems with immigration. Those of you that posted things like "when you take in all the immigrants, this is what you get" seriously need to take stock of your screwed up view of the world. Yes, amongst those poor, terrified, fleeing victims, there may well be some rotten apples. But that doesn't justify ignoring the entire situation. These people are fleeing the SAME asshats that are to blame for these acts. Having complete and utter cocks like Trump using Friday nights attacks as proof that he's the man for the job, and his wall is needed, and all the rest of his shit...

Seriously, the guy is a fucking tool. Hey Americans, you're almost all grown from the roots of immigrants! You're listening to a dick with shit hair, one that sells hotels and appears on shit TV, and are considering voting him in as your leader! Get a grip!

I'm tired and pissed off. Sue me.

Back to my point on immigrants. There were people pointing out and screaming "told you so!" on Friday night, that letting in the Syrian refugees (because that's what they are, refugees. Honestly, look up the difference between Refugee and Immigrant) would cause terror attacks... The people they're looking for in France? Oh wait, yes, all settled in Europe for years. Good call twats.

On top of all this, I've seen people in the States pointing out that these attacks are the reason to be pro guns. Seriously, events half a world away do not have any bearing on whether or not you get to carry your gun around. Stop banging on your drum.

And the racist angle has been thrown out there this weekend too... Some of you have gone from blaming an entire religion, to blaming an entire race. Good job!

I honestly saw some of the things being shared this weekend, and I couldn't believe what I was looking at. It was bad enough so much shit happened in the world this weekend. It's made worse by the fact that so much shit happens on a regular basis. But the part that is really hard for me to swallow, is the part that a lot of what I have been reading has been hate, racism, anti-religious crap, and people using these events to put across their point of view.

And you know what will happen if these people are pulled up on their shit? "Oh it's freedom of speech, it's my point of view, you don't have to like it" or similar crap.

And you know what, that's fine. Just as it's fine that I have vented what I think. Don't like it? Think I'm a sap? Guess what... Tough shit. Freedom. Of. Speech.

Incidentally, something that a lot of people around the world don't have. Something a certain terror group want to quash.

The longer certain people in the world carry on pressing the "Them and Us" point of view, the longer shit will carry on happening. I don't care if it's a man running for president, or a housewife in a small town - posting and sharing horrible shit is damaging.

So, I will not be on Facebook for a while. I've logged out of it across all devices so I can't see what's happening, don't get updates or notifications... But when I do decide to come back, I will be clearing out my friends list. I'm all for freedom of speech, but for some people to use that freedom to spread shitty crap and use horrible events for their own agenda...

It's just wrong. All I can do is hope that the world my kids end up with, is a world of more tolerant people.

Abuse

OK folks, fair warning - this post has been simmering in my brain for a few weeks now, and I've had to write it in stages because, frankly, the subject matter pisses me off.

A little while ago, I was asked a question that I really struggled to answer. Usually, any question thrown in my general direction is answered pretty quickly - either with the direct answer, a non-committal answer, or a grunt of manly acknowledgement.

This one, however, had me stumped.

"What subject do you care truly passionate about?"

Now, I take passionate to mean something that really gets you going, gets you up onto your soap box ranting and raving, that causes emotion to truly flare.

But I couldn't think of anything. Like, nothing would come to my mind.

I care about gaming, and I get pissed off when news reports directly or indirectly blame gaming/games/gamers as the cause for violence in the world.

I care about the welfare of my kids, and I get pissed off when I feel they are being treated badly by someone.

I care about my friends, and I get pissed off when my friends need help with something, but I am not in a position to assist them..

And so I went with the "I will think about it" answer - a cop-out, yes I know - and after twenty seconds, I promptly forgot about it.

A few days after that, a series of events unfolded in three different, completely separate ways. Two different, unrelated, non-communicative friends were having issues at home and talking to me about it. The third was a stranger and his partner/girlfriend/wife walking past me in the street.

The "man" was screaming at the woman. Properly full-on screaming at her, effing and blinding and calling her all sorts of harsh names. All because she had left some papers at home that he needed to copy.

The names he was throwing at he, the venomous bile-filled words pissed me off. Coupled with friends struggling in their own relationships - no actual physical violence (not yet) - it hit me with a flash what it is that I feel passionate about...

I HATE BULLIES.

Yes, I used the word hate. And I am sticking with that word.

Now, some of you already know this much, and some of you probably guessed or suspected (because I can be an arse), but most of my school life was filled with bullies. One boy made my life especially miserable, and even today I still remember the things he did to me, the things he had others say to me...

Adults in my life too were bullies, mostly of a mental variety, but some... not so much. Even as I've grown and become an adult, I've seen people abuse others both physically and mentally, and every time, it makes me properly angry.

Now, my friends that are going through this at the moment - and I stress, there is no physical violence, just psychological abuse and mind games - will not be named or given pseudonyms or anything like that.

What is it that drives people to become such bastards? I cannot understand it. you and I, dear reader, are normal, average people.. We deal with things differently, we argue or lose our tempers or whatever, then the mood blows over, and that is that. Other people seem to take pleasure in tormenting and controlling the people in their lives.

What gives anyone the right to tell someone that they are fat, or ugly, or need to change their appearance in some way... What sort of person controls the money in a relationship to the point you have to ask for it? What sort of person uses sex and intimacy as a weapon or means of control in a spiteful manner - I am NOT talking about 50 Shades or people that are into various kinks. Whatever works between two consenting & understanding adults of the right age is cool in my book! What sort of other half installs cameras in the house - not for security purposes, but openly admits to watch the person when she is at home to ensure she is doing her jobs and not entertaining someone. What sort of person cuts off all your ties with your friends and denies you the right to see or speak with them, all for no good reason? What sort of person is full of charm, politeness and light when out in public - playing Happy Families - and then, behind closed doors, revert back to their abusive, controlling asshat-self. What sort of person installs tracking & logging software on the phones or tablets so they know where they are, the speeds they are moving at, what messages or mails or comments are being sent and received.

A COWARD, that's who.

ANY man that treats his wife like an object, that makes her walk behind him, that watches her conversations with others, that talks to her like she is a pile of crap - you sir, are a coward and pathetic waste of air.

You partner should be loved and cherished. It is as simple as that. Regardless of her new haircut, you tell her she looks gorgeous no matter what. Regardless of you not buying her that new dress because you don't like it, you buy it because it makes her happy. If your other half has the only vice of playing online games on her laptop, don't disable the internet so she can't go onlne - buy her limited currency in the game.

It is not often that I get properly angry. I don't do anger very often - mainly, for all the reasons above but in regards to physical violence - but when I do, I get angry. I am not a physical-confrontational type of person, but there are a few people around the world that I would love to pay a visit, and stomp hard on your balls, one at a time. You don't deserve to be considered a man if you think she's a whore because she bought new underwear - because she needed new underwear...

Honestly, this post is taking me days to write, as I have to keep stopping.

I wish to the highest heavens that those affected by such things can find and get help to get themselves and their children away from an abusive, toxic relationship. You might think "I'm OK, I can handle it" but if this is your life, you shouldn't HAVE to handle with it.

Look at it this way - if your child, married and living with her husband - came home to you one day and told you this was their life, what would you do? Would you tolerate such a life for her? Would you accept the mental abuse because she says she can handle it?

Of course you wouldn't.

If this is you, then get help. Ask help from friends, call your local police, ask them for help or guidance or assistance. There are various womens refuge or help charities help you get out from such an awful life...

And please please remember, just because you might think "It's OK that I am treated this way, at least he hasn't hit me" bear in mind that people like this can escalate. What starts as a new law being laid down in the house can become an argument, then a fight, then an injury. Any man... ANY MAN... that thinks striking a woman is a macho, cool thing to do, think again.

It makes them the biggest pussy there is. Big man, starting fights with your already-terrified wife..

It seems to be getting more and more commonplace too... So often I will see a man accusing his other half of being a waste of space or similar. Too often I will be talking to friends online, and find out over time what their home life is really like. More and more people seem to think that as there is no physical violence involved, that it's acceptable.

It isn't. Not even a little bit. If you are making your partner feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, undesired, scared to do anything or go anywhere, use or withhold sex as a weapon, think you can treat them like a piece of sh!t, you are very much mistaken.

And I hope for the love of everything peaceful, that the shit you do catches up with you. That your actions drive your partner into the arms of another person... A person that will treat them right, with respect, care and devotion... If she wants to go out to a pub or club with her friends, you don't "allow" it or "let" her, you tell her to have a great time and to be safe. No curfew, no rules, no ultimatum. A man that will love every inch of her skin regardless of it being bony or jiggly. That when she says she needs something, you don't give her a set amount of money - you give her your credit card and take her to whatever stores she wants to go into.

No one should deal with this. No one should put up with it. It is wrong.

If you are trapped in such a relationship, please, do everything you can to get out. Don't accept it as the norm - there is a perfect someone out there for you somewhere - don't even put up with it or just take it as life... TALK to someone. TELL them what is going on. ASK for help - no matter how proud you might be, that help might be nothing more than a helpful word or useful advice. Your friends - your real friends - will be the ones that stick by no matter what, won't drop you for whatever self-perceived slight they think has been committed against them. When you are stuck in such a destructive relationship, your words - even mundane stuff talking about the weather - will act like a beacon of hope for the victim.

And you ARE a victim.

If you know or even suspect someone is in this sort of relationship - and PLEASE remember, it can happen to men too - all I ask is that you extend your hand to that person. Be a real, true friend to them. Make them see the world is not like it is behind their closed doors, and that you can be the person they trust to make them feel better and to trust.

If there are children involved - and, invariably, there usually are - then you owe it to THEM to get them free of such a life. One of my friends has a couple of sproglets from a previous marriage, and while the little girl is too young, the little boy IS old enough to see... And for some reason, also becomes a target of the hatred and vile sh!t the arsehole spews forth. Punished for the most minor of reasons. Treated like a little Prince one minute, then like a demon child the next...

If you have children, you need to get away, before the behaviour of one "adult" becomes learnt and considered acceptable by the wee one.

I like to think I am approachable. I like to think I am helpful. If you need help, if you want someone just to talk to, then by all means, consider this my extended hand. I cannot say for sure that I can help you. I cannot say for sure that I can fix anything for you. But I can say I will talk to you, give you advice, and listen to you if that is what you need.

No one on this earth deserves to be treated like an indentured slave. No one on this earth deserves to be treated like an unfaithful dog. No one of this earth deserves to be spoken to like a naughty six year old.

No one. Not ever.

The next time someone asks me what it is I am passionate about, I won't pause nor will I hesitate.

I am passionate about psychological and physical abuse that is used so prevalently in this day and age...

And it has to stop.



(Post-Script: I have sent this to those mentioned in this blog post before I hit the publish button... The fact you are reading it means I have their permission to let the world see it. I don't want people to think I am writing about things confided in me in secret. I have their permission, and their identities are well and truly covered)

Time Out

Dear 0ddness, it has been many many weeks since I wrote on you properly, and for that I deeply apologise. I don't know if people still check in here to see if I have actually done anything, and I don't know if people still blog anymore... Surely Facebook hasn't killed blogging?

But I digress. And, I apologise. I apologise for being away and neglecting my pages, and I apologise because this is going to be a rant. My time away from 0ddness was partly self-imposed, and partly because.. Well.. People were complaining. Complaining about 0ddness, complaining about my Facebook, and complaining about my Twitter.

When I say complaining, it wasn't a "Dear Author, this content is..." comment or anything like that, but people were making snide shitty comments. "You're always moaning on your blog" or "Why do you always have to complain about your medical stuff" or even "That picture/link/song you wrote about sucked..."

After a while, all these comments got to me. I stopped using Twitter first - people hardly talked to me on there anyway, most of the content was just people retweeting someone elses content - which in turn was from someone else, or it was just boring. Some people you would mention or Tweet didn't even acknowledge you... Especially some attention-whoring celebrities. Why have a Twitter account and ignore everyone? And trying to have a conversation on there... I mean, 140 characters? I think anyone that gets a text from me knows I don't abbreviate, I don't take short cuts, and I don't do acronyms. So the 140 character thing got to me - especially trying to chat to someone.

Then it was the blog that took the next hit. Yes, I complained on here. Yes, my medical stuff was a common subject... But if people were complaining, I just couldn't be arsed to carry on. Not even a little bit.

Then came Facebook. People moaning I shared too many pictures. I updated my status too often. The stuff I shared was sexist or rude. I used bad words and people complained that their little ones saw it. So I only update my status once or twice a day at most. I share things that make me chuckle still, but I gloss over a lot of other things.

And then, this week, I had a shot of insight.

Who do you think you are to moan about my Twitter, or my Facebook, or worst of all, my Blog. It occurs to me that if you don't like the stuff on my pages, then YOU have to either block me, unfriend me, unfollow me or at worst - IGNORE me. I don't have a blog for your entertainment. I use 0ddness as my outlet. I use it to vent the stupid thoughts that I have running around my head. I use it to talk about how I feel physically, which parts of my body are screwing around and when. I use it to clear my head and try to avoid getting down and miserable - fighting depression is a hard battle, and 0ddness has always been my main therapist.

Sure, sometimes the stuff on here is mundane at best, but I do not make you read it. I do not tell you to read it or else. If you don't like it, I would much rather - instead of moaning at me (Ironically, about me moaning...) that you just went on your merry way.

As for my Facebook... If my status has a swearword in it, and you don't want 6 year old junior to see it... Er... Get 6 year old junior off of Facebook. It's a swear word - you might not use them, but I do. I always have done. Block me, or hide my updates if you don't want to see it. As for the pictures I post... It might be something funny, it might be a woman in a sexy dress, it might be something geeky, it might be something gross. There are plenty of tools on Facebook to hide me. And honestly, if you can't stand all the things I share, which show my sense of humour, or the mood I am, or what is on my mind - or anything else - that is part of me...

So why are you friends with me?

On both here and Facebook, if I find something interesting, or something that I think some of you will enjoy - even if it's only one other person that might like it - then I will hit share. If you don't like it, I am sorry, but I am not doing it for you. There are PLENTY of people on Facebook that share the same shit all the time, and then mutual friends share it over and over... There are so many things I don't like people posting, but you know what - I don't care. I scroll past, I don't bitch at them for sharing something I don't like... If everyone told everyone to not post things they don't like, Facebook would be a ghost town.

So, hopefully, from today, I will not be posting on here or Facebook or even Twitter to entertain you. I am here for myself. 0ddness has been around for MANY years, and has always been my outlet for ranting and venting and putting into words things that I struggle to vocalise. I am not a trained chimp here to please you, entertain you, or to only like things that are "normal".. I am who I am, and I like what I like.

If you can't accept that, then the problem is not with me. It's you.

Way To Stereotype

I am, in general, a very very tolerant person. I don't care what colour your skin is, I don't care who you love, I don't care who you say thank you to at bedtime, and I don't care if you talk to a spirit, power, supreme being, or an invisible goat called Jeremy.

Be nice to me, I'll be nice to you. Do what you want, don't force it on others. Live your life your way, be mindful of how others live their lives.

There are, however, still people in the world that have Stereotypes sooo far up their own bottoms it is worrying. And I don't mean The Common Person On The Street, I am talking about people that wear a shiny badge that says "I'm a politician" or "I'm in charge of a massive company" or whoever.

I WAS about to do a Musical Monday post, but decided to skim through the news, where my usual repository for face-palming at  humanity - Sky News (also known as "Wow, Let's Sex Up This Headline!") were covering the missing Malaysian Airways 777-200.

Now, I get they have to cover all bases, and I get that they are probably quite stressed out and trying to do everything they can. One of their lines of enquiry seems to be these people that managed to get onboard using stolen passports - which is a little worrying considering how tight security is supposed to be in air travel these days. While discussing this avenue of investigation, I was taken aback by one single line, a quote from Malaysia's Civil Aviation Chief caught my eye, and pretty much made me shake my head.

Now, I am sorry, but someone that is "In Charge" of anything should be somewhat less of a dick as far as I am concerned. I completely get that they have to explore the possibility of terrorism in the disappearence of this flight. I get that the "climate of the world" is somewhat tense. But it seems to me that he is dismissing that line of enquiry because the chaps using the stolen passports were not "Asian-looking"

My first thought was the chap that tried to blow up the explosives in his underwear on Christmas Day 2009 while heading into Detroit. Despite his name, Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab was also "not Asian-looking" being that he came from Nigeria.

My second line of thought was "What the holy-hell does an "Asian-looking man" look like anyway!?" Asia is, as far as I remember from Geography, a fairly large place. I mean, bigger than Belgium at least.

Side note: Everything always seems to be "The Size of Belgium" when they talk about big things. Don't believe me? Click that link!

Anyway.

Asia is effing big. Like, BIG big, and covers 80% of the Earths land, 60% of the World population (4.3 billion people, apparently) and a bit of research tells me it ranges from Egypt, up past Turkey, Western Russian, across the top of The World, down the side of the Pacific, through the Indonesia archepegalo, and then all along the Bay of Bengal, around India into the Arabian Sea, and finally up the Red Sea, back to Egypt (via Suez).

For clarity, that is 48 different countries (and, apparently, parts and areas of Turkey & Russia sometimes count) for one somewhat-larger-than-Belgium continent. When you think how different all these people look - from the Japanese to the East, to the Turkish to the West, there is no "look" for an Asian person.

THIS is how pissed off the quote has made me - I've been researching all this for this blog post!

It is also worth noting that the aircraft was travelling from Kuala Lumpa, Malaysia to Beijing, China - both of which come under Asia - so I would imagine quite a lot of the passengers "look Asian"

But I digress. And breath.

It just really pisses me off that in this day and age where we should be less "He's Asian, must be a terrorist" and realise that any nut-job can be radicalised by any other nut-job, and be turned against the world for ANY reason. Religion is a biggie, but then there are the Land Disputes out there too that create radicalised people.

/rant


PS: If I suddenly vanish, it's because MI5 or similar security agencies found some of my Google searches for this post, and decided they were worrying enough to lock me away. Currently I can barely walk, let alone be a nut-job or a terrorist... So please remember to get me released ASAP - I don't think I'd do well in jail with my baby-soft skin ;)

It's A Bit Damp...

OK, I admit and pre-warn you, this is likely to end up as a rant... I've been clearing up all morning, so am now tired and sore and cranky as f$ck and have been thinking about a lot of this over and over and over...

That said. You may have noticed - and I don't know if it has been touched on by any international news outlets - but the UK is currently in the path of storms. Storm after storm after storm. It has been very wet and very windy.

The Jet-Stream, they say, is pushing damp air in one way, then hitting cold air, and the end result is rain. Or something.

Is it global warming? One group is pointing at it and screeching about Carbon Dioxide and Man-Made climate change, and shit being churned out... Another group is harping on that there is proof that this sort of thing happens and it's just part of the global cycle. We shan't touch on the lunatics blaming gay marriage, equal opportunities, free love, sin or anything falling under the umbrella of "Gods Wrath!" because, you know, they are mad.

So we shall leave that alone. Suffice to say, it's definitely not normal. Not here, and not in many other parts of the world. Parts of the US & Canada are getting ice storms and snow storms and all sorts of cold stuff. Australia is currently cooking and drying out like a worm on the pavement in the summer. Parts of the Middle East are suffering drought. Monsoons have failed. It's all pretty shit.

But to come back home, where our issue is some wind and rain and very large, deep puddles...

It just seems like everyone is blaming everyone else, yet NO ONE is taking responsibilities for their own actions or their own choices or decisions, and THAT is what is pissing me off.

Compared to the other weather-issues around the world, things are not that bad - not really. Would you rather have a foot of water in your lounge - that you were warned was coming - or a raging torrent wash your entire house away? More worried your fields are under water, or not have had rain for so many months nothing you plant is going to grow. And a lot of it is now involving finger pointing and politics, and all sorts of crap.

First off, all the farmers are raging mad because their livestock is wet, their fields are flooded, and they can't make a living. But hang on...

For years, farmers have been cutting down bushes, hedgerows, trees, woods, forests - anything in their way to prevent them making bigger and bigger fields, or clearing places for their sheep to have lunch or whatever.

You know - trees and stuff - those things that, say, drink a shit load of water on a daily basis. If they hadn't cleared land on a bigger and bigger and bigger scale, things might not be quite so bad.

Then there are the people that live on the coast where the storms have landed. Over the years, sea levels has risen, and sea defences have been built up higher and higher. Then, they got to a point where lots of people that live on the sea front realised that their "Scenic Coastal View" was going to be blocked by the new, higher sea wall. They wrote petitions, formed committees, took their problems to the local government and generally protested their little hearts out that the new wall was detrimental to their view, that tourists coming to see their seaside town would stop coming, and so the higher wall was a BAD thing.

Cue the higher, stronger sea going over the sea wall and flooding their little town. "Ooooh if only there were a better sea defence, if only we had a higher sea wall, we're now flooded, so no tourist is going to come here..."

Irony?

The people that have built their houses beside a cliff edge - they get an honourable mention because when the news teams are filming that lovely house going over the edge of the cliff after the waves have obliterated them - why does everyone look so surprised?

And there are the people screaming and shouting and hollering, saying the flooding would have been prevented had their river been dredged "like we have been telling them for years!" Cue then the news helicopter showing the dozens of square miles under three or four feet of water. Now, forgive my mathematics, which was never very good, but I don't think taking a few feet of mud out of a river would have made THAT much more space to prevent eight gazillion gallons of spilling onto the fields.

"BUT it wouldn't have been as bad!" people cry. No, you are right, it wouldn't have been so bad. Instead of twelve square miles being under four feet of water, it'd be twelve square miles under two feet of water.  Much better.

I sometimes think I was the only person in my Science lesson on the day we did the water cycle... Water evaporates off the sea. Clouds roll inland. Clouds reach a point and drop water. Water then goes in different directions - some across land and into the brooks, streams then rivers, to flow back to the sea; some is absorbed by the land, and drains into the water table and aquifers to be used as a water source; some is absorbed by trees and plants...

But there are issues with this now... The rivers have been changed and altered by humans, they've been made straighter and deeper, the sides have been increased. The area around these lower areas are called Flood Plains... Can you tell where that name comes from? And no, it's not because they are quite plain. And this flood plain, which is now walled off from the river becomes a housing estate. Then a village. Then a town. Tarmac, concrete, cement, bricks... This place where the water would usually be absorbed is now a brick-covered sponge, so the water runs straight into the river. For good measure, the towns drainage system now ALSO dumps into the river.

The moors and forests have been hacked, chopped, burnt and generally buggered, so the water that would usually be absorbed here has no where to go. With so much extra water, it just runs down hill, across the big flat open farmland, and dumps straight into the river.

Water + Water + Water + Rain = Lots and Lots of Water

It's not rocket science, and the big strong walls they built to hold the deeper, wider, man-buggered river are actually not that strong. So the Not-So big strong walls go pop and leak all over the flood plain.

Did I say flood plain, sorry, it's a TOWN now. Covered in tarmac and concrete and cement and bricks - so the water that would usually slowly ebb away has precisely zero places to go.

Let's put it another way that people might understand - less sciencey. Think of it in terms of supply and demand.

• The clouds are our supply;
• They piss water all over us because of the demand - the trees and plants and grassland and forests and all the brooks and streams and rivers and flood plain;
• The clouds aren't too smart, so they will supply regardless of the demand;
• Take away MORE demand - cut down trees and forests, build over everything that could absorb water, get rid of the waterways - and you have a surplus;
• That surplus is what us common folk refer to as "a f$cking great flood"

And so with swathes of our country under water, the next logical step is for everyone to blame everyone else. Take some bloody responsibility.

AND! Why is it that every politician and semi-important spod decides to put on their wellies and go take a look?! The Prime Minster has been, the other bloke from the opposite side of Parliament... Wallace, I think, from the Wallace & Grommit movies. The bloke next in line to the throne who will never get there at this rate - he turned up, on the back of a tractor trailer. They all look around, all with their "Grr serious" faces on, listening to the locals rant about their soggy sofa, damp sheep, waterlogged cows, overflowing pond, and whatever else they are screaming about...

Then there is "Social" Media, where people are sharing a photo with a caption like "Share this picture to show your support for the wet blokes down south" Aw that's nice, I am sure a picture of a flood being shared is doing SO much for everyone. "Click Like if you think more should be done to help those affected by Noahs Flood" Aw yes, over twelve thousand people have liked a picture.

Those people with a new pool where their downstairs used to be are SO lucky to have so many likes and shares...

So whats being done?

Well, the Army is involved now (though I think the Navy would SURELY have been a better help) and they are doing the same as the others, standing around, scratching their heads, pulling a boat of cold old ladies and their little shivering dogs.

Then there are the water pumps everywhere, pumping the water from one place to another... Very helpful. It must be that well trained water that knows it's not allowed back where it came from.

There are the councils that are now charging residents for sandbags. That's nice and properly in the spirit of things.

People are trying to work together to rebuild sea walls and river walls, using whatever they have to hand, but you have to wonder... If a properly-built wall didn't stand up to That Wet Weather A Few Days Back, I'm not convinced a wall of sandbags, bricks and mounds of rubble will do the job - especially as there are about a thousand more storms building in the Atlantic and heading our way.

My personal favourite is watching the bloke on the news stand in the middle of a town-come-lake with a somber face on, talking about how these devastating floods will have effects that last for many months, and how worried the residents are - followed by a group of worried residents to go rushing past in the background, laughing and shouting and playing in the water, body boarding, riding their bikes through it, and generally having a proper fun time of it.

Of course, I also can't help but think they should be aware that the flood waters are also churning out every flushed poo living in the sewers, mixing them in with all that water... Yum, enjoy your norovirus.

I hate to say it, but this is our doing. I don't mean me and mine - granted we might flush the toilet a lot, but I don't think you can blame us exactly. I mean "OUR" doing, as in, us people. We've cut, and built, and developed, and blocked, and removed, and diverted - all in the name of progress. But with all that progress, no one seemed to take into account what might happen if - like now - things got a little wetter than usual.

And even now, our councils and our governments continue to change their minds about protected land and greenbelt land, and regardless of what us, the people, have to say about it, woods become housing estates. Parks and lakes become housing estates. Forests and Nature Reserves become housing estates. And the water has no where to go.

Another day in science clearly everyone else missed. Water will pretty much go where ever the hell it wants. It's stronger than us, more powerful than us, has the ability to piss people off whether it's falling out the sky or bubbling out the ground or washing around our private parts. People hate it if it's too hot or too cold. Neither us, nor our local leaders, nor our government, nor out planet - none of us can tell water to get stuffed and stop being such a dick. If it wants to come and play in our towns, it bloody well will. If it wants to rearrange the coastline, it'll do that too. If it wants to piss off and dry out your entire country, hell, it'll do that as well. Whatever water does, it's in the wrong. Just think, it wasn't THAT long ago that everyone in the UK was crying out for more water to prevent a hosepipe ban and drought.

Water grants your wish, and you're not happy.

No more news or social media for me for a while.

/endrant

So, Uh, Yeah...

OK, I hold my hands up. I've been a little bit, a teeny weeny bit.... Lax, in my blogging of late. And when I say "of late" I do mean pushing two and a half months since my last blog post with ACTUAL content. That is, not a Musical Monday and not a Passing Time post.

My bad.

It just seems that, for whatever reason, things have been so up in the air of late, every time I've started or even thought about blogging, I've not followed through. I'd write a blog post and either think "Wow, more moaning" or "Oh look, complaining about pain" or worse, wondering who would contact me asking "Is that post about me?"

Which, I have to say 1) Get over yourself, or 2) If the shoe fits...

The other thought that sort of crossed my mind was the lack of comments I get on a post, but I quickly dismissed that. I write 0ddness for me. It's pretty much my ONLY outlet on life, and while I know people read it, and I love that people enjoy it, it is for me to try and get some order and perspective on my thoughts...

So, with that in mind, I'm going back to regular blogging. It might be that it'll be "ate some toast, washed a cup, fell asleep" posts, or "rant-rave some mundane thing happened" posts that people think is just me being a dick, over-reacting at stuff.

Or, it'll be the final category of post, "ohmygod I'm in pain and my brain is doing THIS SHIT to me!" which for some reason, generates three kind of response.

1) Get Over It
Yes, I could. But if you don't like it, don't read it.

2) Awww Poor You
I'm not posting for sympathy, I'm just saying how I feel.

3) OMG Attention Seeking
No, as above, I'm not posting for ANY response, just stating facts.

OK, this has turned into one of my Randomly Random Rants. Go me.

So. I write for me. If you think I'm bitching about you being a twat, and the shoe fits, it's probably you. If you think I'm blogging to get sympathy or create drama, you're wrong. If you don't like reading about me ranting over what you consider nonsense, I'm not making you read it, go play somewhere else.

You might also have noticed that Messieurs Facebook & Twitter have been quiet. Well, again, same reasons. Life was busy, too much drama, lots of snippy snidey stuff, shitty comments about stuff I was sharing, then I just felt like I was talking to myself, and slowly, I lost faith in humanity. My accounts are still active, but I've not been on either for a pretty long time... I might return at some point, but we'll see.

Where am I, then? Well currently at Silly o' Clock in the morning, I'm in bed, not sleeping. Or I am sleeping, and I'm just THAT talented. In general, well, I suspect that will be a series of blog posts over the next few days.

If you want to talk to me, then I am usually never without my trusty mobile. You can text me if you want. You can use WhatsApp which is better than texting. Being that I am on a 4G smartphone, you can always email me instead. Obviously the first two need my mobile number, which is on my Facebook. Or email me and ask nicely.

I have lots - too much, probably - on my mind at the moment. Thankfully, I've had one or two people there for me when I needed them, but I'm not naming names. Once I start blogging, I suspect my mind will become more ordered and clearer. Less ranty. Less... This post.

Like I say, lots on my mind, lots going on. Hopefully tomorrow I will manage to start getting it down. Purging the brain pan, as it were.

So, thank you :-)

Your Call Is Important To Us...

If there is one thing that drives me bonkers (yes yes, one thing...) it's calling a "proper" organisation that, despite knowing that their phone lines are going to be mental, they refuse to take on additional staff.

Today, I had to call the Tax Credit office to renew our claim for another year. Usually we are done with it by now, but that pesky wedding and stuff interfered with my organisation mojo.

Now, most people in the UK will have had to call the tax office at some point, and will know what I mean when I say "ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" in relation to getting through to these people. Especially this time of the year, when every man and his dog is calling to renew their credits claim.

First off, you have to navigate the "Automated" system. Press 1 for this, press 4 for that, press π for something else, press Æ to launch Mars Rover...

At one point - and I shit yea not - it asked what colour envelope my forms arrived in - white or brown. I mean, really?! There's no way I can remember what colour my mail was this morning, yet alone back in June!

So, after sailing through the hell that was automation, I was exposed to what sounded like a broken music track, and a crackly voice that was either telling me "you're in a queue" or "the longer you hold, the closer you are to summoning the beast"

After five minutes, I was bored, and starting pottering around on my computer, cleaning it up and pottering around.

After ten minutes, I made some toast and munched on it while waiting.

After fifteen minutes, I put laundry on the line and folded clean clothes.

At twenty minutes, I needed a wee. I held and held, but it was no use, I needed to go to the toilet. With my bladder rather full, I decided that it'd been 20 minutes already, what are the odds of it being answered now...

So, I put the phone onto Speakerphone, sat it on the cistern, and started to let the stream flooooow. After a few seconds, the broken music track stopped, and a voice came on the line. "Thank you for holding, you're through to blah blah blah"

Now, I had two choices at this point.

1: I stop mid-stream and answer the man on the phone. Yes, I can stop mid-stream.
2: I carry on, finish up and THEN talk to the man on the phone.

Yes, I am happy to announce that I went for the second option. But with a twist. I picked up the phone, said "Two seconds, sorry" and finished peeing. Then flushed.

All on speakerphone.

When I started went back to the chap, I acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and washed my hands with the phone tucked under my ear while telling him what I needed to do.

Part of me was actually willing him to say something negative about the fact he just heard me pissing... Now this may be my customer service past, but there is nothing worse that having to keep someone waiting. I get they are busy at this time of the year, but it's A) nothing new, and B) something they should REALLY plan for surely? Having a customer wandering through the automated system for several minutes, then sticking them in a queue for almost 25 minutes is just not on.

Hopefully, the bloke hearing me having a massive piss was enough for him to get the message and pass it on...

Faith in Humanity

I am a firm believer that, in our world, there are more good people than bad. It's just that the bad people grab the headlines.

This last couple of weeks I've been very tight lipped on certain subjects, and have kept my thoughts to myself, but after an hour on Facebook, I've decided to not bother.

Everything that is going on in the world at the moment makes me sick, and the sheer levels of hypocrisy being banded around shakes my original belief that people are inherently good.

For starters, everything kicking off in North Korea is worrying. On top of this, the ongoing hell that is Syria had me shaking my head... Why? Because the superpowers-that-be, who claim they will fight for the weak are no where to be seen. When Saddam rolled into Kuwait, we were there. When it was decided he had weapons of mass destruction, we were there. When it was decided Afghanistan was harboring bad guys, we were there. When Libya kicked off, we were there.

Everyone cried that it was just for the oil, but my faith in humanity was adamant that, no, we were helping. How wrong was I?

Very.

Syria has the same uprising that we helped with in Libya, but are we there stopping those powers that would bomb their own people? Are we fuck. North Korea, threatening thermonuclear war on everyone around them, keeping their people in poverty... Are we there stopping the crazy bastards we KNOW have a nuclear arsenal? Again, are we fuck.

In more local news, people are all still convinced that those on benefits don't deserve it, that we're all thieving, lying scumbags, and thanks to the Daily Mail, we're the sort that would set fire to our house with our kids inside, just to frame someone else. Yet while people are so busy watching those on benefits have their money reduced, they say nothing about how the government is slowly twisting the country into a former shadow of itself.  And when they bump into a little law that stops their twisting, they change the law to suit their needs.

And still more...

Margaret Thatcher died. The longest serving peacetime Prime Minister, the only female to ever hold the position. Half the country loved her, half the country hated her. And she died.

Now, even if you hated her, people singing songs and celebrating and holding parties in the street just smacks of... I don't even know the words I want to use. "Bad Taste" doesn't cover it. Disgusting, Ghoulish Behavior?

You people are a bloody joke. There are people in the world bombing their own people, yet you celebrate someone that died of old age in a hospital? You may have disliked her policies or whatever, but to CELEBRATE?

And everyone going on about how she doesn't deserve a big funeral and all the rest of it... She stated in her will that she didn't want one. SHE isn't the one demanding this, nor her family.

And yes, she has a family. A family that are having to watch people party, celebrate and cheer at her death. Most of whom, it has to be said, weren't even bloody well born when she was in power!

Have some respect, show some dignity, pretend for a minute that another human has passed away, and that us British are not wild savages, but show respect when the need arises.

Lastly, after the explosions in Boston, my first thought was of my American friends that live in that neck of the woods, and even others that may have traveled. Just over an hour after the explosions, while I'm checking in on friends, someone on my friends list posted a photo, supposedly of one of the victims... A twisted body on a stretcher, clearly of a middle eastern event, but captioned as the Boston explosion.

Said "friend" was blocked and reported.

Over the course of the evening, people posted pictures of blood-splattered sidewalks, children covered in blood, over and over... Why the hell do people think that is appropriate?! What makes ANYONE think "here's a grisly scene, I'll share that to ask my friends"

When I complained to someone, she (yes, SHE!) told me she had to raise awareness of the atrocity... And that I didn't understand!

Didn't understand! How many non-Brits have said that over the years to me since 9/11, yet in the 70s, 80s and 90s, we were getting bombed by Irish terrorists every few weeks. Parts of London were obliterated, and we don't understand terrorism?! So many times I had to change travel arrangements because part of London was shredded, or been caught on a tube because the station ahead had received a threat, or we couldn't go into that shopping centre because they were doing a controlled explosion on a suspect package...

But no, i couldn't possibly understand terrorism.

To put the cherry on the top of this ranting drivel, people sharing photos of all this - at least check your sources. Most of the shit you're spewing is fake and has nothing to do with anything.

My closing thought: imagine it was your loved ones caught up at the scene. Imagine it was your loved one that has had their limbs torn off... How would you like your friends sharing photos of your dead and dying family members?

Whoever You May Be...

OK folks, as I mentioned on Facebook today, someone, somewhere, seems to have it in for Kellie and I.

This morning, we got a letter from the Department for Work & Pensions (DWP) stating that as we had had a new baby, please fill in this shit-ton of forms and paperwork as it will affect my money.

So I looked it it, and looked at Kellie, and looked back at it, and thought "B-huh?" followed, a few moments later by me vocalising the very same "B-huh?"

Kellie, however, was not quite so literate...

So, I decide that instead of jumping through the hoops presented, I called the DWP and after seven minutes of "Press 1 for this department, please enter this information, please create a pin..." and so on and so on, and then another seven minutes on hold, I finally reach a human being!

After explaining to her what we've received, so has a lookie-poke through all the information, and low-and-behold, they have "received information" that we've recently had a baby.

"B-huh?" I start to say, before composing myself. "Errrrr -" much more articulate "-we haven't." Straight to the point, me.

She digs a big deeper, carries on looking, and all she can tell me is that they've received information from "somewhere" that we have had a baby, but not told them.

Which is strange, because by not telling them we've (apparently) had a baby, we're actually shooting ourselves in the foot and losing out on money.

So she takes my information (again) and fires off an urgent email to the actual Incapacity Department to get them to contact me, and to hold off on the forms as "hopefully it can be sorted over the phone"

Wonders of wonders, same day, I get a call back, and the very nice lady gets me to confirm who I am (answering my own phone!) and explains to me that they have received an "Anonymous tip" that we have had a baby.

Which, roughly translated, means "Someone is trying to cause us problems and mess with my money by reporting us for things we haven't done."

I should hasten to add, this is NOT the first time either. When Kellie first moved in, someone "advised" the DWP that Kellie was working FULL time, and not PART time, and that we were not declaring earnings.

The end result of this is that my claim is now marked as "receiving malicious third-party tips"

Which brings me to the closing point. Whoever you are that is making these "claims" against me, you're clearly not a very bright soul... At least make up shit that would mean we would be getting MORE money, not less. And if you've got some sort of issue with Kellie and myself, be a grown up, eh? At least be a big boy/girl and confront me directly instead of being pathetic.

Liam Neeson sums it up perfectly:

Oh, and I still have to complete 22 pages of f$cking forms! On the plus side, I could end up with MORE money a week - granted, it'll be less than twenty quid - but by being a twat, you may well have granted us more money!

On Scary Movies

While it is safe to say that I enjoy me some movies, this is not true of movies that are flagged with the "Horror" title.

I enjoy most types of film, be it comedy, drama, psychological, even to some extent, a handful of musicals, but horror movies have never really done it for me.

Now I am sure there are some of you that are poo-pooing my words, along with something like "You don't watch them because you're scared" or similar, but I can honestly, hand on heart, state that the only scary film to ever EVER bother me as a grown up, was The Blair Witch Project. The original ones, thank you... The sequels were only scary in the fact that people paid to see them.

Allow me, however, to digress and explain on that point. The film - then - was a new kind of film making, low budget, and most of the scary stuff was thanks to the viewers own brain filling in the blanks. The film gave me, at most, a case of the heebeejeebees... It was made worse by about eight million percent by the fact that, the very next night, I was in the dark up in a forest.

Granted, I was out live-roleplaying (back in the day), but none the less, that was probably the longest, biggest wig-out-fest of my entire life.

Back to the point.

A few weeks back, we were talking about watching a scary film with James & Kerry. Personally, I can take or leave them, but I was the one that was having to get said-scary film. So, I grabbed a few and we proceeded to go to Canvey. One of the films on the pile was something called Sinister.

Both James and Kerry made a great point of saying how scary it was, how it bothered even James, and Kerry watched most of it from behind a pillow.

It was "proper scary" by all accounts.

To the point that they both vetoed it.

Last night, Kellie decided that she wanted a sleepless night to watch Sinister. So, I dutifully put it on, and she snuggled up against me... Within about three seconds of it starting, she grabbed a pillow to hide behind because *cough* it sounded scary.

And so we watched.

Kellie spent the first half of the film jumping at every shocking sound and visual that appeared on the screen. I, however, hated one bit of it - the fact he found a snake under a box. Which, appeared on screen with a sharp shock of music. BLAM! It's a SNAKE!

The second half of the film... Er...

And here is my actual point. This "really scary film" was so interesting, that it terrified me into a deep slumber.

I fell asleep less than halfway through. Even the "BLAM! Something SCARY is on the screen!" music didn't disturb me.

Upon realising I was asleep, Kellie kicked me awake, and decided she had had enough terror for one night, and so the film went off. And we went to bed.

So scared and terrified was I, that at about three this morning, I needed a wee. And didn't turn on a single light.

I wonder what it is about "scary films" that just don't do it for me - let alone scare me. They're just... I don't know... Trying too hard, maybe? They go out to make the films, and before you even see a trailer, it's the man with the deep-commercial-voice stating "The scariest film this year!" complete with news articles on how people had to leave the cinema because it was too much for them.

I'm sure someone out there is going to say "Oh but you need to watch such-and-such film!" to which I reply, really? Why bother? I have exactly zero interest in watching someone in Hollywood try to make me whimper by showing people getting chewed up by something nasty, people killed in increasingly unpleasant ways, and whatever boogie-man is deemed "scary" chasing people through the forest.

I'm sure Sinister is scary to some people - in fact I KNOW it's scary to some people. But why do people want to actually watch something that is going to give them nightmares and keep them awake?

I think Hollywood reached a dead-end with scary films several years ago, so now, instead of trying to figure out something new, they are just increasing the amount of jumpy-bits, scary monsters and blood.

DIY (Destroy-It-Yourself)

Despite what you may think, I am not entirely perfect. Here and now, I am happy to admit that yes, I do have the occasional thought. And, contrary to popular belief, I do not know "everything" despite being able to come up with a smart-arse answer to most questions.

I am flawed. It's true. But I accept my flaws, and it makes me a better person.

One such "flaw" is my DIY skills. Over here in Sunny Basildonia, DIY stands for Do-It-Yourself. Those of you across the pond refer to it as Home Improvements. The rest of you, I have no clue (see, admitting a gap in knowledge=brilliance!)

Now, don't get me wrong, it's not that I am bad at ALL things DIY, but I lack the skills, and therefore I lack the confidence. Years ago, I managed to completely re-tile the bathroom and entire toilet, with zero skills or knowledge... And those tiles never came down, cracked, or needed repairs. By the same token, the re-tiling that was done in the bathroom a couple of years back by a professional - half a dozen tiles are currently coming away from the wall.

Give me a computer, and I'm all over it. I know what it all does, I know how to replace or repair most parts, and generally, I can get a dead machine back up and running in no time. Flat-Pack-Easy-To-Assemble furniture I can handle too. While most people struggle with the diagrams and which thingie is Part A, and where the hell Slot C is, I can read through it, sort the bits out, and build the furniture.

What I also lack when it comes to DIY, are the correct tools. For many years, my toolbox consisted of some metal things, a half-dozen screwdrivers, a saw, a drill and a hammer. It took me YEARS to realise that there were different types of drill bit, for example. I was certain I had some sort of super-coated dense wall in my house, after melting several bits. Turns out, I was trying to drill into the wall with wood-bits...

And once I DID have the correct drill bits, putting up shelving by eye, and NOT with a spirit level is, for the most part, just another way of putting up wonky shelving.

Trust me, I know.

So imagine the mixture of both glee and horror when our trusty electric shower conked out on Sunday. Years ago, once all the pipes and electrics were run, I installed it, and over the years, when it's died, I've managed to service it myself and get it back up and running.

However, Sundays death was permanent. Something technical had died, and while I COULD have bought the part I suspected it was, it would have meant ordering it online, waiting for it to be delivered, un-soldering the dead bit, re-soldering the new bit, and hoping it was that part in the first place.

So, Kellie decided we needed a new shower rather sharpish - especially as yours truly cannot get into, and out of, a bath. I HATE baths too. They make me feel useless, so, new shower it was. Kellie had a hunt online, found the one she liked the look of, and I went off to collect it.

Bus to town, bus to retail park, buying the shower, bus to town, bus home. Two hours. Yes, as usual, the buses around here are atrociously shite.

First things first, will the shower fit? So, I took my ruler (and not because I don't own a tape measure, but I couldn't find the stupid thing anywhere!) and checked. Yep, it will fit in the existing place. Next, check the electrics and plumbing. Yep, while the pipe elbow needed rotating, everything else was fine. So, dead-shower removal.

Off came the wall screws. Out came the electrics. Before removing the plumbing, turn the shower water supply off, and... No, back up... Turning the stopcock off, something odd happened. A slight grinding noise came from within, followed by the tap itself popping out half an inch and spraying a fine mist of water over me and the floor. Regardless of which direction I turned it, water was leaking from within. So, in a last ditch effort to stop the external flow of water, I smacked it inwards. It didn't completely stop, but was obviously broken.

Bucket under the leak, emergency plumber called. This is at about half three, and I was told he could be with me any time before... TEN P.M!

So I sat and waited. And sulked. And re-read the installation instructions for the shower. And sulked. While it wasn't my fault, it was just typical... Thankfully, at just after five, the plumber turned up.

I've had the pleasure of this chap before - he was here a couple of weeks back fixing another unrelated leak in the house, and he was miserable... Doesn't like being on his knees, doesn't like having to move stuff out the way, doesn't like working in tight places... Honestly, if you don't like those jobs, you're in the wrong profession mate.

This time was no different. Apparently, I had reported the job wrong. While I reported it as "stopcock not shutting off and leaking" and they sent it to him as "stopcock seized up and leaking" what it ACTUALLY was was "Gate Valve damaged and leaking"

Yes, because I know the difference between a stopcock and a gate valve.

He was very unimpressed, because he didn't know if he had a spare gate valve, had it been reported correctly, he could have stopped off on route and grabbed one, even though he was on his way home from Harlow, and had had a bad day, and just wanted it to be over...

Carry on at me mate, I'll make sure your day ends sooner than you'd like...

Luckily (for him) he DID have a new gate valve on the van, but now he was pissed off because the chaps that had done the bathroom refit and tiled over the joints he needed access to. So out came a hammer and chisel, and after a few minutes of banging, my bathroom sported a nice new hole in the wall. He carried on huffing and puffing and sorting out the thingie until, finally, it was finished.

To rub salt in his moody wound, I pointed out that, while he was here, I also had another leak (yes, another) in the toilet... Every time the toilet was flushed, a little trickle ran out the cistern and onto the floor. He started saying that it wasn't on his job sheet, but I said if he couldn't do it, I would just call up the repairs line and report it after he left... He knew full well that if I did that, the nearest plumber would be routed BACK to my house... Guess who the nearest plumber would be!

Lucky for, er, him I suppose, it was an easy fix... Adjusted something and tightened something else, and voila! No more leak. He even cleaned up the mess in the bathroom perfectly. Signed his sheet, and off he went!

With the water now off, I set to removing the shower, and after a bit of straining and struggling, it came free. Hallelujah!

Now for the sizing up of the new one, right size, right shape, electrics fit properly, water inlet was in the right place... But... er... The OLD shower had a nut the screwed onto the pipe fitting. The new shower, however, did not. Re-checked the installation instructions, and it read something about using compression fittings on the inlet.

Here is where my Non-DIY brain fired up. While I understand what "compression" means, I didn't have the foggiest what one was. And since I don't generally keep plumbing supplies in the house (shockingly) it meant I had to get one. And the nearest DIY shop?

A few doors down from where I got the shower.

Yes, I am swearing at this point.

So now, at six in the evening, I have to go back out, bus to town, bus to retail park, and go into B&Q. I go to the plumbing section, and start hunting for what I need. However, "what I need" in Dan-Terms, and "what I need" in Plumbing Terms are, more than likely, two very different things. In my pocket, I have the old elbow joint, it's connector, the shower installation manual, and a series of photos on my phone.

What do I need? I my terms, I need a right-angled pipe, with a screw fitting on one end to attach to the wall-pipe, and a compression fitting on the other end to attach to the shower.

Of course, nothing is labelled like that. So I ask one of the chaps in orange aprons to help me out. And I explain it to him in Dan Terms, with the visual aids of instructions, copper pipe in my pocket, and a slide show presentation.

"You need a standard compression elbow joint like this -" he doesn't even look, just reaches out and picks up the thing I am stood beside "- and just take off the nut and olive from the end you're connecting to the wall, and go from there."

Olive?!

"OK, thank you very much!" and off I trundle with my new piece of pipe work, which a WHOLE £1.50, and head back to the bus stop, frantically Googling "What is a plumbing olive"

Bus to town, bus back home, and finally, at about half seven, I am ready to go. I measure up, I drill holes, I run wires, I remove the olive and nut, connect the elbow to the wall, connect the shower to the pipes with the compression joint, screw it all into place, and turn the water back on.

No leaks.

I rush down stairs, reconnect the shower isolation.

No emergency shutdown.

I head back up, turn on the isolation switch.

No blackout.

I make sure the dials and stuff are all aligned, put the cover on, connect the hose, and set to filling and commissioning the shower.

Water flows. Water heats and cools according to the dial. The pressure is perfect.

Ladies and gentlemen, at approximately 8pm last night, I had a fully functional shower, that I installed, without ANY help from anyone! Had the stop cock... Sorry, gate valve, not broken, and had I owned a compression joint, the job would have taken me no less than 90 minutes. However, due to the stop cock - sorry, sorry, gate valve - waiting on a plumber, and having to go out and get the right part, it took nearly seven hours.

In either case, it's a win for me! And, they say you learn from your mistakes.

• I learned that trying to travel anywhere in Basildon on First Buses takes as long as getting a coach into central London. During Rush Hour.
• I learned how to be a really effective plumber.
• I learned the difference between a Gate Valve and a Stop Cock.
• I learned how to bash a hole into someones tiled wall.
• I learned what a Plumbing Olive is.
• I learned how to fit a Compression Joint.

And yes, I did get in the shower as soon as it was done. And yes it was glorious.

Bloody Weather!

A wise man once said, "Oh, the weather outside is frightful..." and he couldn't have been more correct. However, the one caveat to this phrase was that he was singing about the middle of winter.

WINTER, dammit. Snow, Ice, Sleet, Hail, Sub-Zero temperatures... Three or four days ago, it was "officially" the first day of spring. Since then, it's been sodding freezing, and we've had snow and sleet almost constantly.

Considering Summer 2012 was a wash (literally) I was hoping that by March/April time, the weather would have picked up, the sun would be shining, and everything would be very Hallmark-Easter-Greeting-Card-Esque.

Is it f$ck.

If there are any spring lambs, they won't need slaughtering and freezing - they're probably laying dead in the fields already. The frost and snow has killed my daffodils and - ironically - my snowdrops.

So, Mother Nature, enough with the stupid shit. I'm done with winter. I've been done with winter for the last six weeks. Bring on the sun, the warmth and the bunnies frolicking in the fields, not snow ploughs, snow drifts and snow men!

Huff.

And Newsflash! The Fence is getting fixed in April!

No Wonder We Panic

For the last few winters, I've noticed a strange thing... People get worried, stressed, and on the verge of panic because of a bit of snow. As a kid, winter would roll around, mum would get in the usual amount of shopping, and when the snow floofed down...

Nothing. Nothing bad happened. The roads were usable, the schools were open, the shops were open... Some people got in an extra loaf of bread, some got in additional milk, but for the most part, life carried on.

Now, however, the forecasters predict snow two, three, even four weeks in advanced, and it's on the TV, the radio, the news covers it, Facebook and Twitter is awash with it... Week before last, the news was on, and the weather report made an actual segment of the news for the impending "Arctic Conditions"... Three weeks of heavy snow they stated. Weeks of chaos. Blizzards. Twelve inches or more of snow.

All due to start a week from this report.

A week later? Nothing. No snow, no ice... It was a bit chilly, but nothing.

A week after that - Monday just gone - and still nothing. Then, we were told Wednesday it would snow. Then Thursday. Now today, Friday, we have snow. Just a little bit. A dusting, I believe would be the best description.

For the last 48 hours, however, the news has been filled with terms that I am sure are simply there to incite us, to make us worry and panic and stress out. They alternate the measurements system too - originally, it was "Six to Twelve inches" whereas now, it's "Five to ten centimetres" 

Let's face it, if they were to stick to the same measurement and told the truth, five centimetres is two inches. Two. However, the big NUMBER at the front of the measurement is what people see.

The headlines are filled with words like "Panic" and "Chaos" and "Hell" and "Fears" and suchlike. People run out to the shops and grab loads of bread and milk and stuff... But unless you live in the countryside - the shops are open most of the time. Seven days, mostly, and a lot of you probably live near 24 hour shops.

So why grab all the bread and milk you can, why you can - worst case - slip and slide down to the nearby shop and grab a loaf.

I suspect the press fill their reports with all these "scary" buzzwords for the simple fact that in general, it wouldn't make interesting news. "Snow Expected" isn't nearly as catchy as "Britain Braced For Snow Chaos!" and people wouldn't read it and think "Oh CRAP! Must update Facebook and buy thirty pints of bread or twenty loaves of milk!"

If people would just sit, and chill out, and breath a little, they'd realise that in fact, it's not a lot of snow, if you drive according to the conditions you'll be fine, that the shops are all still open... Don't play into their hands, don't worry or stress or anything else... It's just snow. In the winter. Just like happens every winter and has done so every winter since winter was invented back in 1822.

Priorities

I honestly do not understand what is going on with this country at the moment.

As a general rule, I avoid politics... However, every now and then, I get to the point where I see so much crud going on I have to say something.

So, here's that point...

Our government have been running rough-shod over the country for so long now, people seem to have just accepted it, and take everything they throw at us with a roll of the eyes. They have worked so hard on pointing the finger at a group or a class of people, they've made them out to be the badguys, thus diverting attention from THEM.

Here's what's hacked me off at the moment. The country is up in arms that cheap beefburgers have been found to contain horse meat. Some less than 1%, one brand almost 30%.

Now, had it turned out to be pig cock, or chicken lungs, or fuzzy kittens, fair enough. Torches & Pitchforks.

However, this is horsemeat which - let's be honest - is just meat.

On the other side of the scale, we've got our government. Our government that think they "deserve" and "need" a payrise of over 30% a year. The same government that accuse people LIKE ME of being on the sponge and not in need of an additional 1% increase on our money.

This is the same government that have just slashed the starting salary of the police by over £4,000. The same that have just shafted pensions.

The government has managed to do its best in convincing the general populace that those of us on benefits are dirty cheats, that live in the lap of luxury, chortling to ourselves as we watch people going to work in the mornings. Granted, yes, I am sure there ARE people like that - those that claim benefits they are not entitled to, those that claim but work cash in  hand, and those that fiddle the system in general... But for everyone to look down their noses at us because WE are ripping off the country?

I'm sorry, but it is not on.

How is it that the politicians can sit and decide their own wages? That they claim expenses willy-nilly for stupid sodding items, yet for the last two weeks, we've had to scrimp and scrap just so we can feed the kids?! The loops and hoops and pitfalls that people like me have to jump through to get anything, yet those in power have people to drive them all over the place, yet the money for them to do this... Our pockets.

So forget the burgers, forget the fact that it's all doom and gloom due to incoming snow (it's Winter, it's pretty much a given), and refocus on how these people "leading" the country are doing nothing but smash up our way of life and changing our country for the worse.

And consider: we've still got two years of these muppets in power.

21/12/2012

Taking the words of Barry McGuire and Jim Morrison, apparently today is the eve of destruction (well, technically that would have been yesterday I suppose) and this is the end.

I say apparently, because let's be honest, if the world ends today, I'd be VERY surprised. And humbled too, I suppose, at being wrong on a public forum...

But I digress.

Over the last few months, I've seen and read amusing stuff about today, but over the last week or so, it's reached fever pitch, and the fact that it's been on mainstream news since YESTERDAY that today could be the end of the world, well, to be honest, I'm pissed of with it.

However, something relating to this has pissed me off even more.

Today, stood in the playground waiting for Tam to go in, there were more than "several" kids crying and sobbing... More than usual, that is - I'm not counting the "But I don't wannnnnaaaa go to schooool *snifflesnotsob*" stuff.  These children were crying because they were genuinely scared that today was "it"

When I walked Tam to the door, I noticed a couple of teachers were stood holding hands with additional crying little'uns, doing their best to work damage control. The one thing ALL these crying kids had in common?

"Mummy/Daddy said the world is going to end today!"

Now, whether or not the parents had mentioned it in a joking/flippant manner, or worse, they had told their kids today was their last day on earth, surely if you saw Junior was upset about "The End of the World is Nigh!" rubbish, you'd sit them down and tell them not to worry, all is well, it's just people being silly and having a big joke.

If you're one of these people that actually genuinely believe the world is going to end, scaring the living piss out of your child is not on. Tam stood with one of her friends, reassuring her that it's just a lot of rubbish, and "Daddy says the world isn't going to end so stop crying!"

I'm not putting the news on today.. I know it's going to be filled with "The ancient Mayans this..." and "Upside Down French Mountain that" and everything in between - probably including crackpots that "know the truth" and similar.

If you've convinced your child that the world is going to end, then I'm sorry, but you are a moron. Plain, simple, fact. If you've not only convinced them of this, but have ALSO reduced them to tears, you should be bloody ashamed of yourself.

Saying the world is going to end because the Mayan calendar runs out is no different to saying the western world hasn't printed a single 2016 Calendar yet, so the world is going to end in 2015. Woe and Doom.

My view? The world won't end until every single person on the planet is actually, truly "Happy" Once whichever invisible being achieves 100% World Happiness, then the game ends, and they get to start on level two.

Dear Earth: Please get a f$cking grip.

I Don't Get It?

Over the last couple of years, people seem to be going on about a game called Minecraft. And every time people have gone on about it, I've had a nosey at the website, had a quick scroll around, seen some of the screenshots and ended up thinking "nah" and diverting my attention elsewhere.

Today or yesterday in the news, I noticed it has now won some award or accolade or another, so again I decided to have a look... And again, it's the same look as before, and while apparently it's been updated, it doesn't look that different to me.

However, I decided to run with the consideration that "eight million people couldn't be wrong*" I thought I'd sign up for an account and have a bash at a demo version.

I've never watched any videos, read anything aside news stories about it, or even watched friends play, so I was going in without any ideas of what to expect.

And go!

Within two minutes, I had grown tired of punching the crap out of things to see what would happen. I expected trees to fall down (they don't) when you removed a section of trunk. I expected... Well, actually, I didn't know what I expected.

So I carried on punching some more. "ANY minute now -" I thought to myself "- the tutorial will give me more info.

Thus far, the tutorial consisted of "These buttons to move" and "This button to jump" and nothing else. Considering this is the demo which, I assumed, was to convince those unsure whether or not to buy it, it was pretty lacking. I punched stuff, it popped, my bar across the bottom became filled with things...

I punched different coloured ground for sand, dirt, gravel... I punched sheep and pigs for wool and meat... I punched trees for different wood and bits of tree.
It got dark, I carried on punching. I saw a man, I carried on punching. The man grew, I carried on - oh... He blew up and took me with him. I scored 9 points.

There are points now?!

So I respawned, punched stuff, including a fella - I'm assuming a skeleton - until it died and dropped a bone. Another explody man came at me, but I got stuck against some leaves.

BLAMMO! Dead.

I was certain this was a build it type game, but couldn't find any way to build stuff. I had plenty of shit in my inventory, but couldn't do anything with it. All I could apparently do was punch stuff, harass sheep and pigs, and get blown up by some angry thingies. If anything, I was achieving LESS because I was digging the place apart, and Mr Blowy-Up took out the scenery with him.

I kept trying and trying, learned how to sink, drown and swim. Learned that falling from great heights is painful. Learned that once night fell, I was likely to get eaten by zombies and spiders, shot by skeletons, or blown up by Mr Blowy-Up.

Now I'm bored, fed up, and don't see the appeal. I have a quick look online, and it starts with "important stuff you need to know" like building beds, houses, pick axes... All information that might have been useful at the START of the demo.. So I start trying to work out a bed, but in the process of this, an explosive visitor pays me a visit.

What the actual f$ck?!

Now, I just don't care. I've had a shitty couple of days, I'm tired, in pain, and trying to take in this new "game" with a tutorial that might as well explain car driving as "get in car, forward is that way, back the other" and leave it at that. Yes, I'm fully aware it's a "sandbox" game, that there are no real goals, it's all user generated and so on.. But really?

Really??

Please, feel free to regale me with tales of why it's so great, show me videos of people that have spent their every waking hour making pretty castles or dungeons... People that just need some Lego, it would seem. I just cannot see the appeal.

So, in relation to the *... YES. Yes they can. Out of interest, I click the buy now button.
Eight million people have paid close to TWENTY QUID for this game. It's no wonder then, that in the interview I watched, one if the creators looked so smug...

So on your marks, get set, go! Explain what I'm missing, why it's so fun, and why should I spend twenty quid on online Lego with free explodey-men...

Because it's beyond me, it really is. I actually clicked the Buy Now button expecting a fiver. Maybe seven quid.

Bzzz! Wrong!

Excuse any typos or strange grammar - I'm writing this at 2am. On the phone, no less.

On Being A Benefit Scrounger

With our government being, shall we say, completely out of touch, more and more of late people like myself have been slapped with a great big tag of being "Benefit Scroungers" or similar.

In May of 2000 - after a few months of getting steadily worse. I was signed off of work. After a few months - once my Sick Pay was used up - I was officially moved onto Incapacity Benefit. A benefit that is deemed as a payment for someone that is sick, but with expectations of getting better.

Twelve years later, I am still getting Incapacity Benefit. I have diagnosis of Degenerative Spine, ME/CFS, Depression, and Anxiety - and the first two, the actual reasons I am properly poorly, are not filed under any section of "You're going to be fine, here's a cure"

Even with my own GP and now my CBT Specialist stating that yes I am ill and won't be "fixed" I am tarred with the stigma of being on benefits because it's easy, pays more than working, and I can live an easy life claiming money from "The Taxpayer"  No, to look at me - aside from a shitty day when I am hobbling around - I do not look sick. If I've had a few days of chilling out, I can chat and have a laugh and seem like a normal person, but after a couple of hours of leading a normal life, I am then wiped out for two or three days.

According to pockets of the population, I shouldn't be on benefits, I should go out and get a job.  "Get over it" and similar.

At no point have I sat here chuckling, watching people going out to work while thinking "Suckers! I get more than you!" You may notice that Kellie works... Why? Because being such a brilliant benefit scrounger, the money I get each week covers precisely shit. Even with her wage, we struggle to make ends meet some months.

But yes, being on benefits is SO much easier. I'm not going to go into how I feel on a daily basis - you can read it in posts like this one and get an understanding of my daily life. I would love to work. I would love to be able to get up in the morning (for starters) and get ready, sort kids out, get to work, spend the day working, get home, sort dinner and the house, and so on. HOWEVER. You find me an employer that is going to be willing to get a call from me saying I can't get my socks on in the morning because my body won't move properly. Or an employer that will accept after three or four hours, I will need to go home and collapse in bed with a handful of meds - not to mention, require the following three or four days off because I can't move or function.

And while we're on the subject of meds, find me a boss that will be willing for me to be IN work, take a handful of meds at half ten in the morning, and spend the next four or five hours spaced out, unable to focus and struggling to stay awake. And I don't mean "I get tired" but I nod off regardless of what I am doing - even if I am stood up.

And let's not forget the time off every few weeks to go to my therapy appointment, or to see my GP about tweaking my meds...

I am so sick and tired of being labelled a benefit scrounger, but I retort with: FIND me this employer. FIND me a job in IT or Customer Service that is prepared for me to be one day then off sick for two or three days.

This government has managed to convince so many people in the country that someone on Benefits is probably not entitled to receive them, everyone is now sure people like me are lazy, scrounging, skiving, cheats, lying about a disease or illness or whatever in order to get money for doing nothing.

And who do the government employ in order to examine people like me? Do they send in health care professionals, trained in the ailment that is troubling someone? Do they consult with the doctor that has been trying to sort it for a dozen years? Do they contact the specialist in the area  to find out how I am affected?

Do they f$ck! They send in people that have a list of questions to ask, a series of "Bend this body part" or "Move this body part" with no understanding of mental health, physical problems or anything else - and they base their WHOLE decision on this one forty-five minute meeting... In 45 minutes, they can tell that I am actually healthy and there's nothing wrong with me. Sod the reams and reams of paperwork at the doctors office they could look at. Sod page after page of therapist meetings. Sod the actual letter from the ACTUAL specialist that states what's wrong and how I am affected daily... No no, 45 minutes is all it takes to reinforce the Benefit Scrounger  label.

I wish I was healthy. I wish someone would give me a job. I wish people would stop looking at me, telling me I don't look sick, I need to get over it, that they pay for me to be lazy and so on.

I am so sick of it. Sick to the teeth of it. Of the labels, the looks, the idiot determining that I am actually healthy, of surviving on f$ck-all money, and mostly, I am sick of feeling like this ALL the time.

As an example - today, I had to have my boiler serviced, so I've been in knots screwing over someone I don't know coming into my house and pulling something apart. I've written a Musical Monday post. I've written this post. I've listened to music.

And yet, I have done too much, I am in agony, stressed out and totally miserable with it all. Find me an employer that will deal with someone in a state like I am, sobbing in pain and stress - but I can't take any meds for another two hours.

But yeah, I'm fine, nothing wrong with me. I'm just a Benefit Scrounger.