Sad news this morning, Obo, who is currently on self imposed suspension at best or complete retirement at worst, has reported on Facebook that Anna Raccoon has decided to cease blogging and has taken her excellent blog down.
A real shame, Anna and her cohort were superb, I devoured every article that appeared on there. Blogging at its absolute best, and she got results. She's a sad loss. One can't help wondering if her dealings with the big hitters of the MSM over the Sheila Martin/Sandwell Council affair have led to the big nationals trying to exact some measure of revenge against her. I hope not.
Anna, you'll be sorely missed, and I tip my hat to you.
Showing posts with label endings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label endings. Show all posts
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Thursday, 23 April 2009
The One That, Surprisingly, Agrees With Him. . .
Gordon Brown has said that the tax rise in yesterday's budget in 'not the end of New Labour.'
He's quite right you know.
We've seen the end coming for some time now, and it will come as no surprise when it finally arrives, but it ain't here yet. We could have another year of this to come, the end of the New Labour project will be messy, humiliating and a complete elephant hunt.
Even if I'm taxed so much that I can't afford to wear a pair of shoes, I'll make sure that on election night I'll have access to a TV and a big bag of popcorn, and I shall raise a cheer as the seats they hold wink out one by one.
I may even do a little dance, and look forward to booking the day after the election as an annual leave day, as I shall be gloriously drunk, transiting into a hangover of pure euphoria. Guns will then be turned onto the Conservative government, who I confidently predict are bunch of venal, grasping, corrupt, authoritarian fucktards.
He's quite right you know.
We've seen the end coming for some time now, and it will come as no surprise when it finally arrives, but it ain't here yet. We could have another year of this to come, the end of the New Labour project will be messy, humiliating and a complete elephant hunt.
Even if I'm taxed so much that I can't afford to wear a pair of shoes, I'll make sure that on election night I'll have access to a TV and a big bag of popcorn, and I shall raise a cheer as the seats they hold wink out one by one.
I may even do a little dance, and look forward to booking the day after the election as an annual leave day, as I shall be gloriously drunk, transiting into a hangover of pure euphoria. Guns will then be turned onto the Conservative government, who I confidently predict are bunch of venal, grasping, corrupt, authoritarian fucktards.
Thursday, 25 September 2008
The One That Feels Sorry For Ruth Kelly's Family. . .
I mean, fancy having her hanging around the house, speaking in that voice that makes her sound like a growth hormone ridden East German shot-putter.
Needing to spend more time with your family? I don't know which is more disturbing, the fact that one of these ZNL fucktards has admitted that they can't get the job done and needs to step down, or that they think they've completed the task and are now settling down for a well earned rest.
Probably neither, the most likely explanation is that at least one of these delusional idiotarians has got their head of their backside for long enough to realise that their majority is nowhere near as big as they thought it was and they'd best get some job hunting done pronto.
Isn't it weird that only the day before you dropped your bombshell (the shot that was heard around the . . . room?) you were telling the media they were all idiotic ninnies for daring to suggest you were about to bail out? But that lie is OK, is it? Apparently you told Gordon you were off in May, so why, when pressed on the subject did you stand there and tell a bold faced lie? If you lie about that, how do you expect anyone to believe anything you and your disgusting little clan ever say again?
Election night when it comes promises to be an elephant hunt with a good deal of political 'heavyweights' seeking alternate employment. What is even more bizarre is the fact that I have absolutely no doubt that they'll jog into a position that is heavy on wages and light on work inspite of a track-record of not listening to anything anyone has said, crass stupidity and miserable and complete failure.
Just in case they haven't got the message yet: It's done. Over. Finished. You've had it. You now have the life expectancy of a Brazilian entering a tube station.
The only decision you have left is whether you peel the sticking plaster off slowly, or rip it off. Whichever way, I shall sit back and watch your pain and discomfort with great enjoyment. The only problem is that the bunch who will replace you will quickly prove to be as odious and objectionable as you.
Needing to spend more time with your family? I don't know which is more disturbing, the fact that one of these ZNL fucktards has admitted that they can't get the job done and needs to step down, or that they think they've completed the task and are now settling down for a well earned rest.
Probably neither, the most likely explanation is that at least one of these delusional idiotarians has got their head of their backside for long enough to realise that their majority is nowhere near as big as they thought it was and they'd best get some job hunting done pronto.
Isn't it weird that only the day before you dropped your bombshell (the shot that was heard around the . . . room?) you were telling the media they were all idiotic ninnies for daring to suggest you were about to bail out? But that lie is OK, is it? Apparently you told Gordon you were off in May, so why, when pressed on the subject did you stand there and tell a bold faced lie? If you lie about that, how do you expect anyone to believe anything you and your disgusting little clan ever say again?
Election night when it comes promises to be an elephant hunt with a good deal of political 'heavyweights' seeking alternate employment. What is even more bizarre is the fact that I have absolutely no doubt that they'll jog into a position that is heavy on wages and light on work inspite of a track-record of not listening to anything anyone has said, crass stupidity and miserable and complete failure.
Just in case they haven't got the message yet: It's done. Over. Finished. You've had it. You now have the life expectancy of a Brazilian entering a tube station.
The only decision you have left is whether you peel the sticking plaster off slowly, or rip it off. Whichever way, I shall sit back and watch your pain and discomfort with great enjoyment. The only problem is that the bunch who will replace you will quickly prove to be as odious and objectionable as you.
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