John Reid sounds like a real eejit

John Reid is beginning to sound more and more like a politician I love to hate, the koala-like Johnny Howard*. He plans on forcing all foreign residents in the UK to carry ID cards, among other things.

Mr Reid told BBC Breakfast: “It is unfair that foreigners come to this country illegitimately and steal our benefits, steal our services like the NHS and undermine the minimum wage by working.”

If he’d done his job correctly in the first place, my visa number, National Insurance number, and driver’s licence number should be more than enough to identify me to the NHS or DSS or whatever other S that I am not able to claim public funds — it’s typed right there on my visa. Since I would rather die than go into hospital in the UK (come to think, I would probably die from MRSA if I went into a UK hospital), and I have pride and self-respect (unlike the UK nationals who game the system to get welfare even though they can work), I do bristle at this tarring of all foreign residents with this brush of suspicion.

The Home Office kind of needs to clean up their own house before they start coming up with ever more complicated plans (i.e. job justification) to handle ‘threats’ from illegal immigrants.

* Seeing how he’s held on to power for over decade, being as provincial and ignorant as he is is clearly a great political strategy.

The days to come are gonna be a rush rush rush

When

Sleeping on your side, either side, is your favouritest position
+
You’ve just played pinball with your head
=
Not the most comfortable night ever

Couple that with a birthday present to be made without Neil’s mother suspecting anything (i.e. not at home unless I’m sneaky) for this weekend (we’re also meeting Jeff this weekend — long time no see), a craft swap I’ve signed up to, and a non-competitive road run (for which I’m trying to raise funds on two fronts), March is a pretty busy and achy month.

Plus I’m at my job MORE THAN 36 HOURS every week so I’m severely overworked as well.

Ahem.

The rail union and striking workers are on a different planet or something

So I’m expecting the traffic on the motorway to be absolutely shite this evening, all of tomorrow, and Friday morning as signal workers go on a 48-hour strike. This is because of a dispute over hours.

Get this: they wanted a 35-hour week (who the fuck outside continental Europe works only 35 hours any more?). In exchange for accepting a 36-hour week (oh, the inhumanity — 36 hours, or 12 minutes a day?! Slave drivers, Network Rail are), the workers are supposed to get an extra ‘rest day’ after every 12 weeks.

So basically people who work a 40-plus hour week will spend even more time commuting over the next two days because the signallers aren’t getting their extra day off after working only 36.

Fucking numpties.

Do not, on any account, think to oneself that for someone who is so accident-prone, one has not had any accidents lately

I have a quail egg-sized bump on my left temple and my right ear is sore.

There was an unfortunate and entirely regrettable confrontation when my head came between the car door and frame. This sort of accident could be easily avoided by any normal person, but if I can sprain my ankle by standing up (by immediately falling down again), I can achieve a pinball effect using only my head and harder objects.

Good thing I like pinball, it’s one of my favourite games.

Sure, some people really need welfare, but most don’t

I agree — Single parents ‘must find work’. Cut the incentive to dole bludgers, and plow the savings toward day and after school care. Those who are perfectly capable of working but choose to go on benefit should prove via some sort of means testing why they should not work. The government should consider implementing some form of Workfare, tying additional financial help to paid work.

I still haven’t worked out why people believe that a government owes them a living (unless they have become incapacitated in service of said government). I’m a firm believer that these people who think defrauding the system to avoid employment have no pride or self-respect, and if they have children, that’s what their children learn. Hardly what you want if they are supposed to be the future of the country (although it is fairly safe to say that chronic dole bludgers are very unlikely to seek to serve the public).

This weekend I…

garden of the second house
  • watched Hot Fuzz (I did appreciate the reference to Shaun of the Dead and Bad Boys — has Simon Pegg lost weight?)
  • met my cousin for lunch at Ravello’s
  • showed my cousin’s family the second house with the big garden
  • suffered the effects of a bottle of Coke and one strong coffee all evening (i.e. the best of caffeine withdrawal — headache, nausea, chills and hot spells, and an accelerated heartbeat) and had to go lie down in the dark for an hour or two
  • had a late, light dinner of chicken noodle soup from the Chinese takeaway
  • computered
  • did the weekly shop thing at Livingston (got my messages, hehe)
  • computered some more (and I, Robot was on)

The glass is half-full

As much as I do complain (Singaporeans really got the best out of the British colonisation) about various things on life in Scotland, there’s one thing I cannot every deny. The place is damned pretty at times.

Even when traffic is slow on the motorway, the view of sky above always puts me in a good mood. There are big-ass fluffy clouds — they and the sky are all different colours at sunrise (when I’m driving) and sunset (when I’m driving). I’ve never liked salmon pink before, but when it’s streaking across the sky it looks like a pretty exciting, compared to the rest of the time when it’s nerdy and old-fashioned and reminds me of old ladies.

The sunset

The above is not a picture of the sky from any motorway; it’s just an example of the sky. In case you haven’t seen the sky before. That could be the case if you’ve been living in a cave and never left. Or under a rock.

Trembly noses and ruminations abound

Go-ahead signalled for animal-human embryos:

Two teams of British researchers have applied for permission to create “cybrid” embryos that would be around 99.9 per cent human and 0.1 per cent rabbit, cow, pig, sheep or goat to produce embryonic stem cells – the body’s building blocks that grow into all other types of cells.

Dr Calum MacKellar of the Scottish Council on Scottish Bioethics, said: “Millions of people in the UK would see the creation of animal-human embryo combinations as the creation of very profound ethical problems. These are not just a pile of cells, but have a special moral status as a human person.”

human cybrid embryo

I, for one, welcome the possibility of future humans with long, furry ears.

Why in Deity’s name should this be a burden on taxpayers

Some things I just don’t understand. IVF on the NHS?

Mr Shapps, Tory MP for Welwyn and Hatfield, said: “A woman’s chances of ever conceiving a baby through IVF are largely dependent on her postcode and the level of debt within her primary care trust.

“The rules are complex, unequal and sometimes just downright unfair.”

A couple on BBC 1 this morning have been trying for EIGHT YEARS, spent all their money on private IVF treatment, and are now asking the PUBLIC to pay for more? I dunno, I might be way out of left field here, but if they haven’t conceived successfully after eight years with IVF assistance, they might not be able to have children the biological way.

Ever considered adoption?

IVF is not primary or emergency health care. It is ELECTIVE. Why the fuck should the public pay for it? If you are determined to conceive a child but you can’t afford to pay for IVF treatment, maybe you won’t be able to pay to raise this child you hope to have. If you can afford IVF but don’t want to pay for it, you should just fuck off.