The Man With Two Sheds

Some odd sites in the City today. I spotted a man in a suit spraying the corner of a bank with liquid eminating from a small pink tube jutting out of his trousers. As he shook the last few drops, he explained to shocked passers by that he was simply marking his territory before the government stormed in with big guns and tried to force money down his throat.

I asked him if he was grateful for the public money. He roared with laughter and spat in the general direction of my visage.

Should you enter one of these places where Mr Money lives, you'll notice the sour, soulful expressions on the faces of the employees. They were dressed in rags, having sold off their nice clothes to keep their companies afloat. Now, we have been instructed by the Tories to be concerned about these chaps and their colleagues in the call centres. These community workers could lose their jobs!

We have sent them a food parcel and some woolie jumpers that we were going to use to keep warm this winter in lieu of heating but... the economy comes first. Just like my wife.

I do worry about jobs. Whenever we objected to arms going to nasty foreign countries abroad overseas, we were often reminded that dozens of jobs were at risk in those killing factories in the Isle of Wight. Poor things.

The Sheds say: 'Strangle strangle frumpy frump.'

Today, David Cameron explained at the Conservative Party Rally that he wanted to repair broken Britain and put family back at the heart of our society.

He has a five point plan:

1) Since the cause of Broken Britain is Broken Families, Cameron will abolish divorce. That way, no families will ever be broken. Children will never be without a father. Divorce lawyers are already lobbying violently against this policy. Married couples will no longer be allowed to seperate.

2) No unmarried couples will be allowed to cohabit unless they spend a lot of money getting a Government Cohabitation License - or marriage. Various Religions are already inisisting on a Lick The Arse of God clause.

3) Selfish single people will be forced to move into one bedroom flats (or just a big room with one of those sofas that doubles as a bed type thing) and will not have sex until they get a GCL. That way nice married happy couples (with women wearing nice skirts and the men in ties) will have nice houses.

4) Babies will be required to sign contracts as soon as they've calmed down from their one way push and shove down a uterus or whatever its called, to be middle class. After all, no middle class children ever throw stones at windows. Parents will be allowed, on behalf of a future Conservative Government, to bring up the children providing they wear skirts, ties and take an interest in Wimbledon.

5) If a citizen is selfishly single after the age of 40, he or she will be required to move to the Isle of Wright. If said individual happens to be gay, well, how uneconomic of you.

I'm sure they will be an extra tenner a week for families, which, of course, would have saved every marriage ever from divorce, wouldn't it? The fact that you now loathe old leathery goat face is neither here nor there.

Roll on 2010.

Is your church being forcibly shut down and gutted?

Are your Bibles being torn from your smashed fingers and thrown onto a bonfire with a thick film of excrement on the cover?

Are you having a male member forcibly rammed up your posterior because its the law?

Are you forced to consume at Christmas and not think about the nativity?

Is the fabric of reality tearing itself apart because someone talks about the Earth being a few billion years old?

Are devil worshippers scratching at your door baying for your blood?

No? Then not exactly oppressed, are you.

Love and Hugs from the Sheds, now with more things inside!

The Norwich Science Museum, currently housed in the disused St Michael at Coslany church in Colegate is due to close next month as funding from their parent body has been withdrawn and the various councils that plague Norfolk are not going to cough up to keep this popular attraction open.

It gets thousands and thousands of children a year and is a marvellous place for the kids, a chance to, as the official name of the place has it, Inspire them to look at science - in a building that has had a history of trying to curb it!

The church, of course, claims a unique ethical stance. Dogs bollocks to that. There was one priest in the early twentieth century who tried to demonstrate gravity did not exist but was a fraud of Newton's to discredit faith. The majority of Christians don't have a problem with science. Only a few ethical extremists who probably worry that they will be personally held to account by the Almighty by something someone else did...

The building now is in the hands of the Norwich Historic Churches Trust. Desperately preserving the past. Science is about the future.

I had a chat with one of the people who runs the place today as I took my kids for a farewell riot in the place. Norfolk County council refuses to even pick up the 'phone when Inspire try to get in touch. That's conservatives for you. 'I don't use it so its not important.' Norwich City Council has helped before but no more.

I imagine spending a small fortune on the most expensive set of park benches in history has something to do with that. These marble monstrosities earned Norwich a thumbs up from the Sculptors central body. But these images of a brain, an eye and what frankly looks like turds are supposed to make us, citizens of Norwich pauses and reflect whilst munching on our Macdonalds on a seventeenth century SCIENTIST and philosopher. He's one of the few people Norwich can boast about - and no one else remembers... The benches were controversial at the time and accounts in the press at the time suggested dissent was stamped on.

Hooray for the Arts. Would we suffer if we never had Shakespeare? It would be a pity never to have had Macbeth or Taming of the Shrew. Who would be the poorer without those benches - except the sculptor, but I'm sure he / she / they are not short of work.

So we're going to become even more a nation of consumers, depending on the rest of the world to suckle us, build things for us, do the thinking for us because - as we all know - everything stays the same always. One day we are going to wish we hadn't squandered our industry just to stamp on the unions, didn't outsource contractors, and encouraged science and engineering at all levels rather than go for the cheaper and popular options in universities.

Which brings us back to science. We are still suspicious of science. Its either evil, misguided and open to abuse, or just an extension of the entertainment division.

The science museum was entertaining and instructive and artistic and gave an empty, beautiful shell a life.

Councils and Governments are obsessed with emulating ICI or Tescos. But they forget somethings in life need constant support. Children are not exactly revenue generating but we parents still have them. The same is for education.

Inspire did not set out to make a profit.

Just Inspire.

Today, I saved the planet.

In my local corner shop - which isn't on the corner of anything - I went to buy a few pits and bieces, as you do, or would if you didn't have someone to send out - and in this corner shop which isn't on a corner of anything, not even on a tangent, they offered me - to carry my bibs and bots - A PLASTIC BAG - that is, to say, a BAG made of PLASTIC.

I could not believe my beautiful eyes. The man behind the counter could quite plainly see that I, the Man with TWO SHEDS(wooden ones, not plastic mark you well) had pockets. Pockets of cloth that decay politely and without smell. Pockets of size and girth that could easily contain the four pints of milk PLASTIC milk and thus did I or did I not need BRTINEY SPEARS a plastic bag, hmm?

After a smug fest of self righteousness and posturing I declined the bag made of FILTH and carried said items of consumability home with me HAROLD WILSON PLOT 1968.

Therefore I saved the planet.

The bag is still in the shop along with its incestous brothers and poisonous sisters. Thoroughly ashamed.

But, upon reflection, I felt guilty. These bags are only trying to serve us humans well, we, their creators, are spurning our love children.

So I went to the local park and murdered a swan. Karma, you see?

I demand my taxes rocket up higher than it is possible to high. That'll save the planet.

Meanwhile, on the planet of the Swans, there is an account to settle.

Hobart huggies HUGGY HUG.

Have you ever posted in the wrong blog? I have. So in this one I shall say William Hartnell was the best and greatest Time Lord EVER and makes a really good password. But not here. Nor at the Nat West.

My greatest embarrasment was sending an excellent recipe or however you spell that and am too lazy to look up to the Prime Minister of the day and a letter of complaint about economic policy to Woman's Weekly.

It subsequently lead me to becoming Chief Political Economist writer for Woman's Weekly which terminated rather abruptly after I misinterpreted their policy on cakes as being too left wing.

Squeezes and hugs from all of us held together by nails!!!!

I am now old enough to be judgemental!

Hooray!

I can now shake my fist at teenagers and say we never behaved like that when i was a puppy and LIE due to a selective memory and a fear of retroactive prosecution!

Hooray!

Doctor Who has finished and I can now stop complaining how it was not as good as last year or, indeed, since 1967.

Whooray!

I can now complain about the slightest imposition put upon ME by THEM and say I don't pay my taxes for the likes of you to blah blah blah as if my individual pittance of a tax burden funds the entire national social security budget and everything else I want to complain about!

Hooray!

My virus data base has been updated!

Hooray!

I've realised sex IS better on my own after years of contrary thinking! A tightly clamped fist, a broom handle and no feigned apologies.

Hooray!

But it still happens. Rotation. Gravity. Voices.

The sheds are fine, by the way. Pics soon I promise.
Big squeezy hugs! XX