Today was the second reading of the Welfare Bill in the house of commons. I was laid up most of the day with very little energy and feeling sickly after the chemo on Friday and subsequent drugs over the last few days. I managed a trip to the shops and a midday meal then took to the sofa and BBC Parliament on channel 81. In between naps I listened to lots of the pantomime and the back and forth arguments regarding proposed cuts.
To sum it all up the loonyservatives are trying to hoodwink parliament and the country with an ill thought out skeletal bill which has not been thought out properly at all. to be contd
Message to Ed Miliband.
Replacing Alan Johnson with Ed Balls as Shadow Chancellor was a small move in the right direction. However your party is failing to take note of the public opinion about proposed cuts by the ConDem government. It is not enough to accept in a pathetic fallacy that a sweeping cuts programme is needed. (I don’t see bankers making cuts, but hey it is the British people supporting them to the tune of billions).
I believe that what is required is for him to put Labour’s policy firmly on the map and support the movement behind the proposed Welfare Bill. In particular I call upon him to fully support the TUC March on 26 March and to support it not only as a right to protest in a democratic society but as moral imperative to show that his party is on the side of working people and any who find themselves vulnerable through no fault of their own.
Mr Miliband please support and March for The Alternative, Jobs, Growth, Justice 26 March London
jumping time zones and continents
an umbilical of implausible possibilities
zaps life giving particles
of unerring contemplations
until like homing pigeons
they alight firmly on
the fresh canvas
of a willing mind
tendering the sweet night
reforming and seducing
an already conquered mind
honesty rides out
on a wave of intrigue
multi faceted elucidations
flimsy petals of insecurity
twisting and bending
delicate filaments of anxiety
under a nebulous weight
harmlessly on the sturdy branch
of secure interpretations
frank and fearless
the only saving grace
an unknown depth of integrity
Well Helshmoon and gleetings deer viewdlers.
Heres a superduperiski fantabulous snog just for your delicacious ears
It comes all the way from the nineteen wasnt the war over (a) long fucking tome
It’s one we Coll lary cantari just love a doodle doo to here …. and now,
near and hoooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwww
Vera Smegaliscious Lyneskerooney and Haveye gotice for you when the
dandruff is sprouting , more commonly know as ;
There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover …. just you wait and see and
applications for the positiop of pest exterminator-chiefterooney can be sent care of
Please not that nothing in this email is!
And furthermore no warranty is either implied or givensmiven as to the quality
of any words used as odour refreshers or for tumble drying ,in any way shape or form,
whether the weather will be etc , European Superstate, precursor of
The New World Educated State (NEWS for short) dictated or recieved from alien beings
in thought form.
This has been a Nawinski production underwitten by Smelldromia ,The home of ” The Heart of a Beautiful Woman is mirrored by her Perfume” and interfered with by Boiled Tripe Inc with thanks to EU , no not u jimmy , The E U
the car breaks down.
wrong place, wrong time
but then it always is.
have to catch a bus.
stand waiting, next to a rundown pub.
cold black railings
fencing off the world
guarding its secrets
am ominous vision of childhood.
and men idling at the bars,
the sickly smell of hops drifting
from the bars as the peripatetic
patrons spill in and out.
the unkempt gardens
are littered with,
fag packets and used johnnys,
broken bottles and corporate cans,
vying in the filthy space,
with intertwined bluebells,
inevitably losing their identity,
as the wild flowers march on,
day by day.
an old lady hobbles to the bus stop.
and I smile and say hello.
“Just admiring the beauty of nature”
she looks at me hesitatingly,
glancing at the swathes of rubbish
and then a smile lights her face,
as she turns,
“Oh bluebells, happy childhood memories”
the bus arrives and the doors sweep open.
but for a second we are both lost in overlooked jewels