The putting forward of a site-meeting in Dorset has allowed me a little time to write a post this morning - lucky you.
The site-meeting was almost put off altogether, thanks to an unbelievably stupid British Cabinet Minister advising everyone in the country not to panic about the - as yet unspecified - industrial action by petrol-tanker drivers, at the same time as taking precautions by filling up every jam-jar and vase in the house with as much petrol as you could find by scouring the area in a 50 mile radius of where you live, just in case they all run out.
So - knowing that I had quite a long journey to make today - I drove past a few pump-stations which all had signs outside saying 'No Fuel', eventually finding one near my workshop which still had an hour to go before it too ran out, and joined a massive queue, eventually filling my thirsty 2.5 Volvo with a few drops of the stuff.
It really would not have been a disaster if I had to put off the meeting for a while, but when I think of all the people who have to drive 100 miles or more a day just to fulfil their job descriptions, it confirms what I have long suspected about this coalition government we have right now - it is comprised of a bunch of stupid and utterly incompetent arseholes who couldn't govern their way out of bed.
Last week, a former treasurer (and now former fund-raiser) for the Conservative party was covertly recorded as he was briefing what he thought to be a couple of wealthy lobbyists about how to get the ear of the Prime Minister, and he was so utterly stupid and drunk with 'power', that he failed to realise that these two 'business people' were - in fact - reporters working for Rupert Murdoch.
As you probably remember, Rupert Murdoch is not the most popular person in the corridors of Whitehall right now, so he has more than one axe to grind when it comes to getting one over on all the politicians who have been trying - quite rightly, in my view - to get him ousted from power in the UK. About three successive governments have been living in fear and trembling about their own careers being made or broken by the wizened old Australian (now naturalised American for business reasons), and now it is pay back time - or it would have been were it not for the mind-numbing stupidity of the Conservative fund-raiser.
"There's no point in messing around with £10,000 here and there, in dribs and drabs", the idiot said in a London barrow-boy's accent, "£100,000 will get you into the league, and £250,000 will get you into the premiere league. Dinner with David Cameron and his wife in Number 10 - your business will be transformed".
The funny thing is that despite donating a considerable fortune to the Conservative party himself, the barrow-boy had never been invited to dinner at number 10. I don't blame them. I wouldn't want a boring and uncouth yob like him around my house either. All he got for his measly £100,000 was the job of fund-raiser - a job he has now lost thanks to his greed-by-proxy attempt against the wiley old fox, Murdoch.
Oh dear, this has turned into another rant against all that is rotten about the beautiful but fucked-up country we now reside in, but - you have to admit - it is worth airing. I just cannot see how our City Fathers are going to get us out of this mess by selling off every asset at a loss, just to throw a few quid down a black hole to keep the E.U. ministers happy.
One of my bank accounts is controlled by Spain (who I never signed up to), and look what is going to happen to Spain in the next couple of months. Good job I don't have any serious money in it.
Off to Dorset - it's that pear-tree job. I'll let you know how it works out. there's some serious logistics involved, which I am hoping do not involve me...
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