THE FALLACY OF EXHAUSTIVE HYPOTHESES

Apologies for the delay in bloggering chaps.
This whole kerfuffle with St. Iain 'Peace Be Upon Him' Duncan Smith has left rather a sour taste in my mortgaged-up mouth, and Mrs.Mac is beside herself over who will win Top Gear.
Needless to say, the fellow that's taken over at DWP HQ appears to be cut from the same cloth-cap as St.Iain, and it's more of the same for Broken British Benefit Bolsheviks & Their Gypsy Wedding Council Houses.

Stick them in the ruddy army I say!
That'll sort the tweets from the chavs!

Anyhoo.
On to this bally Referendum thingamajig.
I was terribly undecided for a while.
Far too much choice.
When Jeremiah Corbine stuck his trotty little snout into the mix, I was very much in favour of going all-out with Rupert, Bernard and Bojo.
But when I saw that David & Gideon had plans for a Google-Airbus sponsored European Super Army,
AND they were going to sell-off our failing NHS to the Yanks, I must say I was torn like Imbruglia.

Luckily Mrs. Mac wants nothing to do with the whole shebang, favouring the Rosberg/Hamilton dichotomy over central party policy.
Therefore I shall take her proxy vote from her Chablis-stained trotters, and have two stabs at voting myself.

I'm thinking I will stick one in the back of the Euro Soccer net and go all out with Nicky Morgan and the Remain lot.
But I shall also move heaven & earth and the Isle of Wight to a more defensive position in the mid-Atlantic, and join Nigel & Govey for a damn good Leave vote as well.
Win/Win.
Job's a good 'un!

God save the Queen!

LEGALISE POT!

No.
Again, I was only joking.
But there has to be something said about the whole decriminalisation thing.
It's not very well thought out.
I mean, it's actually a bally minefield.

Had another telephone interview with Personal Adviser, Lowestoft-John last week, and what a ruddy nice fellow.
Didn't achieve much.
Both had a bit of a moan.
It doesn't look particularly inspiring for either of us, but we swapped a few numbers and anecdotes, and from what I can gather, we'll meet up again in January 2013.

Free of both chronic pain and time-consuming bus travel, I popped down to the common to see Allotment Alan.
I've recently been partaking of some of his organic leafy tobacco, on a purely medicinal basis.
According to Alan it's all above board and it does wonders for my lumbago.
He has to keep it under lock & key due to local riff-raff and the wrong sorts, and that entails some artificial light thingy that plays havoc with my bifocals,
but I have to say, it's a bloody marvellous painkiller, and who has the right anyway to say whether a man can grow his own pleasure? (man)**
Growing is great, and gardening should be made compulsory on all Free School curriculums.
I mean, it's not like anyone is being harmed.

It's also got me back into watching television again.

Waybuloo is genius programming; something for everyone there.

And who would've thought that they still manufacture 'Space Raiders'?
Ten bags for a pound!

Slowly going off Dave though.
He doesn't seem to know what he's doing.
It's almost like he's trying to please everyone, and that's just silly.

I like Meryl Streep.
And I like the new filly on Countdown too.


I might wash the windows later.


After Police Academy.

Yep.



**obviously all home-growers should be credit-checked and licensed and affiliated to an allotments growers association, similar to Allotment Alan's.