Civil Servants

What a bunch of spongers!

With very few exceptions Civil Servants are parasitic nobodies.

They are financed by the ‘real’ tax payers of the country via general taxation, VAT and Council Tax. Without the entrepreneurs of this land and their faithful workers who generate the wealth the whole country would be bankrupt within a few weeks and the country would be on its knees.

‘Real’ workers design products, create them and make them. They are the busy bees in the hive, making things happen, creating products and services that people need and generally make the world go round. They live or die by their decisions and their performance. If they are not up to the job, they are sacked. If a company is not competitive it goes broke. That’s the way it is – and as it should be. Natural selection, in the Industrial World.

Civil servants on the other hand don’t live in the real world at all. They don’t have to do a good job, adapt to market conditions, improve their performance, increase productivity, nor take risks to make a living. They are paid regardless, have safe pensions and other benefits, enjoy a job for life with guaranteed salary increases,. Scandalous!

To get the sack in the Civil Service is almost unheard of and you have to be mind bogglingly bad to get it. In addition to their cosy little jobs they have the highest ‘sickness’ absenteeism of all workers. No pressure, no chance of the sack, guaranteed benefits – and yes they phone in sick regularly to take extra days off. Lazy skiving bastards, I hate them all!

Don’t these blood sucking vultures realise that they are living off the sweat and toil of the productive? If everyone worked for the government, the economy would be dead, there would be no prosperity, no goods, no innovation – society would collapse and the only choice would be communism.

These unproductive swines are paid by us. They should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves or at the very least exceedingly grateful and humble. They should bow down and lick our boots every time they see us walking down the road. They should buy us drinks, grovel to us and let us shag their wives and daughters. There are far too many of them, and they feed off the labour of the rest of us.

Yet it gets worse! In many cases it is the job of the Civil Servant (Tax Inspector, VAT Officer, Health & Safety Executive etc.) to poke their nose into the business of the wealth creators, cause them great hassle and make it much harder for them to make a profit and consequently pay the wages of the Civil Servant.

Bloody ridiculous!

You may also have noticed the grand names these parasites give themselves, ...Officers, Inspectors, Wardens etc – what a bunch of crap. I have my own names for them, which I think you can guess are not too pleasant.

Don’t forget that these people are meant to be our servants for God’s sake, NOT the other way round.

Come on people, wake up, it’s about time we let them know what we think of them!

Coming Soon…

Morris Dancers
Women Drivers
Viewers of ‘Reality TV’
Blokes That Shave Their Heads to Look ‘Hard’
Traffic Wardens are ‘cool’
People Who Still Use Cheques in Shops
Post Office Queues
Sociologists and Psychiatrists
Metal Detector Enthusiasts
Going to the Cinema
BT Engineers
Talkative Neighbours
Teenagers
Cars with Spoilers
People Who Play the Lottery

People Who Think Their Kids Are Cute

Guest Blog - from the Dad of Miserable Old Bastard

I hate kids. They are all simply a pain in the arse. From the age of one to twenty one they are all an enormous ache in the backside.

They are noisy, smelly, bloody irritating and utterly useless. The only pleasure they give you is the bit of fun nine months before they are born.

Babies are probably the least revolting as at least they sleep a lot. Toddlers are definitely the worst – whining, whinging, shouting, running around and generally being little shits. I hate their parents too. Giving in to little Darren’s every demand for attention with - “Do you want another sweetie my angel?”,“Be a nice little boy and stop annoying that man”, “What would my little darling like for his tea?” etc. etc. Just do us all a favour and shove little Darren under a bus.

When I was a kid we only spoke when we were spoken to, we had to wait outside the pub whilst Mum and Dad were inside getting pissed (that’s outside on the pavement not in the comfort of a bloody car), with a packet of crisps and a lemonade to last us an hour or so. We were brought up to respect our elders who, after all, were keeping us, teaching us and were entitled to a bit of peace and quiet after working hard all day. At Christmas we were lucky to get two presents from Mum and Dad and at meal times our elders had first choice of food, were served first and had priority on what was watched on TV. If we made a noise we were sent to bed and if we didn’t play properly we would be banished to our room.

Alas now it’s a kids world. I blame them for all the emotional and financial misery in the Western world. It might be possible to live with an ugly nagging wife, but with a screaming git of a kid in the house as well, its no wonder that blokes leave home. How can the modern parent afford kids for Gods sake? Their clothes cost more than your own, their food costs more than your own, they demand school outings, holidays, birthday parties, days out and heaven knows what else. Why should the little shits get everything their own way? You can’t smack them, you’re not supposed to shout at them, you must talk to them as equals as they have equal rights of course. What a load of bollocks!

Now you can’t even find an escape from their incessant noise anywhere. Friday and Saturday nights used to be a good night out down the pub. Not these days though – all you get are teenagers effing and blinding all night and looking for a fight. Weekend lunchtimes are now also a no-no. Pubs are full of horrible little toddlers with their parents - eating, shouting, crying, running about and generally driving us all out of the pub.

As for public transport, well I despair! Whether its on a bus, a train or (heaven forbid) a long plane flight, little Kylie or little Justin are non-stop balling and shouting the odds, making it impossible for the rest of us to read, talk or even think!

The answer is of course for all kids and their parents to be sent to live on another island somewhere till they are 21. A bit like Centre Parks, Butlins or a Pontins family holiday camp, only with military style discipline to knock them into shape.

That would suit me nicely!

Coming Soon…

Civil Servants
Morris Dancers
Women Drivers
Viewers of ‘Reality TV’
Blokes That Shave Their Heads to Look ‘Hard’
Traffic Wardens are ‘cool’
People Who Still Use Cheques in Shops
Post Office Queues
Sociologists and Psychiatrists
Metal Detector Enthusiasts
Going to the Cinema
BT Engineers
Talkative Neighbours
Teenagers
Boom Boxes in Cars