…I am mostly being… Grumpy.
So, I’m in the process of starting a business with a couple of mates at the moment (yes, I do have mates – well, two of them anyway), and some of the shit we’ve had to take from the Council is just ridiculous. The hoops we’ve jumped through to get the plans passed fall just short of dropping to the knees and unzipping, but I’ll not go into that.
Imagine then, the frustration when you see what other people get away with around the town, supposedly controlled by the same Council. People openly flaunting the planning regulations everywhere you look. For example; Putting plastic windows and doors in listed buildings, erecting make-shift signs and my favourite hate, the positioning of satellite dishes.
Just walk down my road in any direction and there’s dozens of dishes on houses that break planning regulations. I bet there are on your road too. Dishes on the front of the house, just above head height. Not where they should be, but where it’s easiest and cheapest for the installer to put them. Bloody Sky TV. Not only that, some houses have two of them, one being half the size of Jodrell Bank. I think that’s so all the foreigners around here can watch their own telly and/or porn. Fair play!
The point I’m trying to make here is how the Council seem to have double standards, making businesses like mine and others adhere to the letter of the rules, yet letting other people openly ignore them. All they’d have to do to get out of the financial shit is walk down my end of town and fine everyone with a satellite dish in the wrong place 50 quid. Bastards.
People who just use a fork to eat with and cut their food up with the edge of it. No – that’s what a knife is for. Use the fucker.- Peeling eggs – the original wrap rage?
- Shoppers who buy margarine because it tastes just like butter. Buy friggin’ butter then!
- Drivers who buy a SatNav and then ignore them because they ‘know a better way’. Why didn’t you keep that couple of hundred quid in your pocket then, because ‘it’s cheaper?’
- Legwarmers. What the hell are they all about?
- People who drink out of bottles. Another uncouth American-led habit. Use a glass, you fuckin’ slob.
- Gok Wan. Twat.
“Me time” – Usually accompanied by doing quotation marks in the air with fingers.
Well, it’s a bit complicated. but this terrorist wanted to blow someone up who was in hospital. So he gets into the building wearing a bomb vest, but he’s sussed by the good guys and they transmit a blocking signal so he can’t explodipate himself with it’s trigger. Should have been a wired system mate – much more reliable.
Anyway, plan foiled, they chase each other Benny Hill style around the hospital and the baddy corners himself into a pressure chamber which he locks himself into to give him time to rewire the vest, enabling him to explodipate himself manually so the cops can’t take him alive. I told you it was complicated. Wake up and keep with it.
So, they estimate they’ve got maybe twenty minutes to get into the chamber before he’s able to blow himself up. It’s 1″ thick steel, but they can’t drill through in time. Ooooh – what to do?
Well, this is where my training as a pressure vessel designer comes in. Simply by adjusting the pressure and/or gas mixture in the chamber, they could have rendered the bady unconcious in less than five minutes. Nobody in the hospital or any of those clever FBI bods thought of it. They should have rung me.
Mission-critical.
I think, therefore a yam.
Call me, yeah?
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