NOW IS THE WINTER OF THE MALCONTENT

Hello.
I know it's been a while since I last 'touched-base' with you chaps, but things have gone slightly awry recently.
Here at Dwile Flonker HQ, we have found ourselves wrangling with a bally sticky issue.
We haven't been this fidgety since we thought we'd found reds under Penelope's bed, only to discover later that it was her school prep.
I personally feel that the aforementioned issue is one of grave pertinence, but Mrs.Mac has, since only this past Thursday, refused to discuss the matter completely.

The subject is the Winter Fuel Allowance.

In my experience, those that qualify for the Trot-inspired piece of welfare shenanigary, only spend their allowances on frippery & tut.
The skivers, the shirkers and the shivering timbers take the money that 'Dave's economy' can ill-afford to give, and literally set fire to it, with their superking cigarettes and their Paddy Power gambling habits.
Allotment Alan's small but spacious semi-detached is frequently cold, but the fumes generated by his special cigarettes could evict a bee colony from the top floor of a blasted tower-block, were he ever to get out of his armchair!

As a nation, we're due extremely low temperatures this weekend (notably coming in from the scroungier parts of Eastern Europe); so I hope the feckless and unwashed have invested in a blanket or two, because it's the idle who will suffer in the cold, along with their taxpayer-benefited children.
And will they moan!
I personally feel the allowance should be presented to the deserving (the Atos frieze-marked disabled, key-workers, ex-civil service, Sky TV subscribers and the military) in the form of a crossed cheque made payable to British Gas, or in the form of kindling, logs or coal.
Those of us who do not require their allowance, should be able to donate their fuel to Falkland Islanders in need, or in very special circumstances, old ladies with British passports.

If Millibland and his pinko cronies would only shut their bally mouths once in a while, (Sir) Iain Duncan Smith  may lead us to a promised land; a less corrupt, better run, 'newer' society; one based on hard work, savings and sensible opinions.
Strivers who earn over a certain amount should not be penalised for being better than everyone else.
The carrot & stick approach is beginning to work on old Cleggy, so I'm hoping we can switch to a crop & a whip before it's too late.
I also worry that Mrs.Mac may be afflicted with this modern scourge of liberalism; this Facedbook generation's Twittery Spring thing.
So we'll see how she copes when I let her out of the coal-bunker on Monday.

Until then, keep warm.
And God save the Queen.

A FOGGY CLEGG GOES BATTY OVER COMPO

So Kinky thinks he can push through a so-called 'Mansion Tax' does he?
Sneaking around the back of Parliament, hoping no-one will notice.

Well we for one have noticed Nick.
Don't think our minor celebrations at successfully reforming the welfare system (in theory)
have distracted us from what you were up to.
Oh no!
We are more than aware that you aim to persecute those that have legitimately inherited, or successfully accrued, properties as investments.

Have you heard the phrase "Property rich; cash poor"?
That's us Cleggy.

We can't afford tuition fees, foreign holidays, eye-pod dockers, widescreen wirelesses or wireless hi-fis anymore.
We can barely heat our houses since Blair sold us out to the Bolsheviks.
But an Englishman's home is his castle (as I imagine it is for a Taff or a Mick).
And without our castles, how do you expect us to secure loans or credit card agreements?
This country requires homeowners to spend and rack up debts to kick-start the economy.
And you want to rob the cash poor of their remaining savings, just to prop up a feckless and work-shy underclass?

That isn't egalitarianism Nick.
That's pinko-bully philosophy.

Our children aren't offered National Service any more, they're robbed of their student grants, they can't afford their mobile telephone bills, we can't get Olympics tickets anywhere (let alone child benefit), our horses have little or no grass, and now you want to force us, to make them homeless?

Some of them are barely 27 years old!

What kind of monster are you Mr.Clegg?

Shame on you.
(And shame on your proposals).

WHY TESCO COULD START SELLING GUNS

I'm beginning to feel a little bit out of touch with society.
I'm actually beginning to think that Lady T was right, on the one issue we disagreed.
How can so many British people be opposed to a Workshare scheme that offers good, solid, back-breaking opportunities, to the millions of hopeless kids from Generation i, that will keep them off MyFace and Bobo, and prevent them watching endless Jeremy Vine shows?
IDS and Chrissy G were right to call these luddites 'job-snobs'.
If Lowestoft John(my Personal Adviser) is correct in his calculations, there's a job for everyone out there. Not just me.
The work-shy have just got to get their fingers out of their eye-pods, and find one.
I myself applied for both the Wolverhampton Wanderers' manager's job AND the Chelsea manager's job this week.
(Chelsea were quick to respond that they didn't have a vacancy yet).

And I see that even more 'pseudo-capitalist' Trotskyite organisations are joining Jammy Oliver's Sainsburys lot.
I've no idea who Maplins, Argos or Superdrug are, but their withdrawal from this brilliant scheme just goes to show how liberal-lefty we've all become.

Only the other day I went to the theatre to see a play about John Peel's Shed by that Osborne fella; not the one who's spent too long under the bed with Red Vince (when did it become Tory policy to maintain taxation for heaven's sake? I sincerely hope Dr.Fox and his Network Chart can overthrow this ruddy pinko soon, and prevent further public spending!)
No. This Osborne was an arty-farty type with a shoddy haircut.
So after a huge argument with Mrs.Mac over whether I should wear Blue Stratos or Paco Rabanne (the latter won; as it always should for theatre engagements) we set about enduring an hour & ten minutes of idle tosh about 'popular music' of all things!
There wasn't one reference to John Peel's National Service days; something myself, and most Radio Times readers know him for, only too well.
We would've left early were it not for the hoardes of unwashed kids standing and clogging up the aisles.
Was this theatre or a bally pop concert?

Anyway, it led me to thinking about what Kinky Clegg had been saying with regard to all these so-called 'neets'.
If they really were a ticking time-bomb, and in the light of the recent defence cuts, why not use this explosive mass of apathy for military purposes?
Tesco's wishy-washy stance about offering these benefit scroungers a living wage, as well as a bit of discipline and a uniform, could be harnessed and packaged as a form of National Service, if you like.
It didn't do John Peel any harm, and just think how many Clubcard points one would get on the purchase of a GPMG or a Lee Enfield?
Give all of these eye-phone gazing hoodies a decent haircut, a tin of Kiwi boot polish, a bit of Duraglit and a massive dollop of elbow grease, and we might just save the Faroes from Argentine invasion.
I'm not necessarily advocating sending the Tesco feckless into battle with the Talibanese, but I am suggesting that if we have to give them money, let's prop up the nation before we prop up Tesco shareholders.
They get the experience, Tesco get the gun & polish sales, and we reap the Clubcard point rewards.

I might even think about applying for a PT instructor's role at boot camp!

(Providing it doesn't involve too much standing, or raising my arm at a right angle for prolonged periods).