We’ve spent all night dying our hair so it has gotten late. I honestly think I’m going to give up on aiming to do a proper blog post. The only thing I really want to talk about on a regular basis is offence and how too-easily-offended people are by this, that and the other. I think it’s beginning to get a little boring and I think I am probably too liberal with my thoughts on free speech.
I know there are things we shouldn’t say without any exception but I got called racist the other day for making a light-hearted about deep-frying stuff in Westminster. I get a lot of jibes from Keri about stereotypes of being northern. If what I said is racist, so are they and they are not really. I honestly didn’t think you could be racist about people from your own country anyway given you are part of the same demographic. I am British and so are the Scotch. They might not want to be but they are and we do love them.
Here is a poem.
For all those whose benefits have been cut,
who can’t afford housing association housing,
who struggle to see their GP,
wait for a date to get their medication,
and they wait and wait.
For all those who take the regular trips
to food banks just to get through the week,
who cut coupons to cut costs,
who can’t afford child care
who see less of their pound than ever before.
For all those who dare to have a second bedroom
they don’t exactly need all the time,
who have been in and out of hospital
praying for the day they get the operation,
have a good moan. You’ve earned it, because
things are not getting better any time soon.
For all those who spent election day
wondering why E4 was not broadcasting so you
could watch that episode of The Big Bang Theory
where Sheldon says a thing for the fourth time,
shut up. You have no right to moan.
You say the Tories won because the Tories go and vote.
Maybe if you wipe the Dorito crust from your eyes
you would be able to see the blinding bullshit in that statement.