Tag Archives: Bad People

Blah, blah, blah

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There is a person that I really, really dislike.

I would almost go so far as to say “hate” but how can you hate someone you don’t even know?

There are two basic things “wrong” with this person.

1. They live here but, from what they’ve “said”, they hate/dislike so many things, I really don’t know why they are still here. Well, I do know why – it’s because they’re married to an Italian – but, really, why stay?

I don’t like everything here but, as I’ve said, many times, I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I love my life here and the things that suck are few and far between (and, if I don’t try and do anything official, it’s generally pretty fine).

This person complains. Pretty much all the time. And it’s annoying. It seems really difficult for them to see positive things, most of the time.

2. I really dislike it when people allude to “special powers” they have. In this case it’s “links to powerful people”. And, by “powerful people”, I don’t mean the Prime Minister of Italy, nor the local police chief but, rather, the local “mafia”. I remember a guy I once went out with who alluded to being part of the Israeli secret service. It was, of course, a complete load of bollocks – not least because, if he had been, he wouldn’t have gone on about it. Or someone I once employed who tried to convince everyone he had been in the French Foreign Legion. I thought he might make a good salesman but should have trusted my original instincts. He, of course, was lying about everything. And, I mean everything. Including a child that he said wasn’t his and the other women in his life. In the end, he married another employee of mine and I was quite sad about that – for her.

And, so, anyone alluding to some sort of secret connections/job that they “can’t really talk about” but do, really annoys me. I find these people to be, generally, untrustworthy and, so, don’t trust them.

Other than those two things, most of this person’s outpourings are, to be frank, utter bollox. A lot of hot air – or blah, blah, blah containing nothing of interest.

The problem is that I can’t quite bring myself to “get rid of them”. It’s like watching a car crash. Fascinating and hateful at the same time.

But, if I ever met this person, I would want to give them a really good slap in the face so it’s a good job that there is almost no chance of ever meeting them.

Still, I put up with colleagues that I dislike and are really stupid so I’m sure I can put up with this person.

But it’s annoying all the same.

Tourists – always watch what you’re doing but if you pay over the odds – walk away and enjoy your stay

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I suspect that we’ve all been there.

You’re abroad and not paying quite as much attention as you should. After all, you’re on holiday and relaxed (one would hope). You go to a restaurant, sit outside and order something – say, lobster. You enjoy it as it’s really fresh. One of your party doesn’t like it and spits out the piece they are eating but the rest of you finish everything.

Then the bill comes and you find that you’ve been stuffed for a couple of hundred pounds.

This was not helped by the fact that one of your party had been to this country and had already warned that, before asking for something, agree the price – especially for fish at restaurants. Of course, that made it quite funny, in spite of the shock of the bill.

That was a true story from some years ago when we were on holiday in Turkey. G went there quite often for work, so we relied on him to tell us how to go about things – but the thought of lobster made us forget everything. We reckoned that the piece that V spat out was worth about £8!

What we didn’t do was to complain about it. After all it was our fault. We should have known better but, what the hell, we were on holiday and these things happen.

In Italy, of course, one has to be careful about “hidden” charges. These charges aren’t, generally, hidden, of course, but displayed (although you may have to know a little Italian).

If you go to a bar, for example, have a cup of coffee for about €1 – IF you stand at the bar.

Go and sit down outside the bar and get the waiter to come and serve you and you’ll pay more. It could be as much as €4 for the same cup of coffee! It’s the Italian way. Everyone knows that.

Go to a restaurant and there is, invariably, a cover charge. This will cover the bread sticks and bread and the service (although you can tip up to about €5 if the service is REALLY good). The cover charge (coperto) WILL be somewhere on the menu but isn’t always easy to spot. It varies quite a lot but is usually something like €4 per person.

Go to an ice-cream shop and there is a dazzling array of options …….. and prices. Usually, for a small cup or cone with one small scoop of delicious (or, rather, usually delicious) ice-cream.

Of course, you can go for bigger ice-creams with, usually, up to three scoops. Of course, for this you certainly won’t be paying a few Euro. But you will have, in your hand, something that is almost a meal in itself.

So this is really quite annoying. I mean, there you are in one of the tourist hot-spots in a capital city and you go into the ice-cream shop. You see the prices start from a few Euro so you have the ultra-large cone with three scoops and think that that will cost you 3 times (say) €3. But, of course, each scoop of ice-cream will be double the size of the small scoop and the ice-cream will be hanging well over the sides of the cone. It’ll probably take about 15 minutes to eat it and you’ll feel quite full afterwards.

So, stop complaining. The prices will have been on the board in the shop – it’s just that you were being a tourist and forgot to check properly. Have a laugh about how you should have checked it better and move right along to enjoy your holiday.

So, stupid people. Not for missing that price nor paying so much – but for complaining about it afterwards to the British press.

This morning

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I have mentioned before – if you want to get an official document or get something stamped or signed – it will require at least two visits – maybe, even, three!

So, this morning, as my job required it, I needed to get a couple of copies of my passport and driving licence authenticated.

First by Italy and then by India.

I had everything.

So, the alarm went off. I stuck it on “snooze” but, as usual, got up about a minute later. I am in my usual it’s-too-early-to-function-as-anything-other-than-a-robot” mode. I shave and stuff. I make coffee. Once I have washed up, I start thinking about the getting the final things ready (gum, cigarettes, my tie, etc.)

I think “There’s something important in my bag”.

What is it that’s important? And why would I remember?

Then I remember. It’s the copies of my passport and driving licence which need to be authenticated by Italians and then passed by the Indian Consulate. It’s a work thing. What’s more important is that it means the alarm should not have been set for 6.15 a.m. but more like 8 a.m! Damn!

It’s now 7.15. For a second I think about staying up and then decide that an hour in bed is better than nothing. I go back to bed. F briefly wakes up as I am getting undressed and asks why. I give him the briefest of details.

About 8.15 I get up again. Without the shaving, I do it all again, including the coffee.

I leave the house for the office where, it seems, I may be able to get an Italian to stamp or authenticate my copies.

I get there.

I queue up.

When I get to the counter, I am told I am in the wrong queue. It should, of course, be the longer one.

I join and wait. I note that it will take 3 days for the document to be stamped. Italy cracks me up.

When I get to the counter (this is the counter next to the woman who told me I was in the wrong queue I am told that they can only authenticate my copies once my copies have been stamped as true copies by the commune (local council). WTF?

I walk down to the office that does this stuff.

I arrive and work out where to go.

I get a ticket. I think that IF (and that’s a big IF), I can get this stamped here, then I can try the Indian Consulate, since they only want it stamped by someone …….probably.

I wait for my turn.

And wait.

Eventually, I get to the counter.

It can’t be done. I have (and, of course, now that I think about it, stupidly, because I should have realised) copied my passport and driving licence onto one document. It saves paper and both documents prove that I am me.

But, as they are 2 documents, they have to be on two separate pieces of paper since then they can make separate charges.

I express my disgust at this and say OK I will do something else. He tries to explain something to me. I say it’s OK because I will do something else. Except, probably, I shout this a bit. He starts shouting at me and I just leave. Fuck ‘em. Really, WTF more than the last one!

I had had a bright idea that, since the point was for India to have copies that were authenticated, maybe the British Consulate in Milan could do it. And, at least there, I don’t have to deal with Italian bureaucracy.

I go to the British Consulate.

I am told that, as from the 1st April (so I missed it by 15 days), all this sort of stuff stopped being done by them and was now done by a couple of solicitors. They give me the details. I find that one is the other side of town but the map on my phone doesn’t recognise the name of the street of the other one. I toy with going back to the British Consulate to ask and decide that, as it’s now nearly lunchtime, I should go home and go to work.

At home, I make a cup of tea and check the map on the computer. The street was two minutes from the British Consulate. Grrrr.

I go to work anyway.

I arrive at work to get told that this documentation is no longer required.

So, although my theory of a minimum of two visits was confirmed, at least now I don’t have to do the second lot of visits!

And it was a beautiful day to be walking around.

And I did have an extra 40 minutes snooze this morning.

Disappointment and conflict

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I grew up in the 70s and ran a business for over 20 years from the mid-80s through to early 2000s.

I remember things like the 3-day week, the bread shortages, the power strikes. I remember the strikes at British Leyland (where I worked) and that being the cause for M and I to move south, for different jobs and a better life.

My working life started in those days of the things I mentioned before and the power of the unions and the constant battle between the government and those unions.

And then came someone who promised us change and change for the better. Where hard work would be rewarded with a better life, more money, a sense of purpose and riches beyond our wildest dreams.

The first thing to do, of course, was to rid the country of those all-powerful, self-serving unions.

And that was done, more or less. So, here we were, going onwards and upwards towards a much better future.

And, then, for reasons more of accident than purpose, I ended up running a business.

It was also the time that M & I split and V came on the scene.

I suppose I could have been a good businessman, a successful businessman were it not for one thing – me.

You see, I had a problem. What I “had” was a business that felt more like a family – a community of like-minded people. As time went on, we employed more people and the business grew. And that was where the problems started. I understood that it was a cut-throat world in business. I understood that the suppliers were in this game to make money out of us and that we were there to make money out of our customers. What I could never get to grips with was that some of the people within the company itself were there to get what they could – even at the expense of the company.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that before the 80s people were, somehow, kinder, more willing to help one another, etc. Nor am I saying that during the 80s and onwards, there were no people who were kinder and helpful because that would not be true.

And it’s not like I’m looking back with rose-coloured spectacles either. In the 70s, the unions, with that huge amount of power, were not interested in doing the best for the country but only in getting the best deal for their workers (and, for those at the top of the union, for themselves). In the 70s, with the destruction of the unions, the time came for the industry heads and the rich to have their way. That was the change.

And, so, we went from the selfishness of the unions to the selfishness of the bosses.

And, I was one of those “bosses”. Well, when I say that, I was the Managing Director. And this is where the problem came in.

I found, as the business grew that more and more often I was disappointed. Not immediately, but after I had time to think about it.

First, I would be angry. Someone would do something that was stupid or, more likely, against the general good of the company. I became very angry. How dare they do this thing? What are they trying to do, bring the company down?

But, after a number of hours or days, my anger would morph into disappointment which, in turn would turn to disillusionment and, finally, resignation. But, certainly, the disappointment would remain. And grow with each occurrence. And, in the end, I had had enough.

And, whilst it looks like I am blaming everyone else, be assured that this is not the case. For I realised that the real cause of all this was myself. It was my inability to fully understand the world that was created in the 80s and 90s. It was my inability to see that the selfishness that became the by-product of the rush to make something of yourself, on your own and stuff who it hurts or destroys, had been made into a positive thing. Something to strive for. Something to laud and praise. And that was my fault.

Of course, the conflict arose because, whilst it was perfectly OK for us to “stuff” the customer, it was not OK for my employees to do the same to us.

Thereby causing conflict in me.

I was trying to be a good businessman whilst, at the same time, trying to safeguard the company – not for me but for everyone in it. And that was the problem. Not everyone thinks the same.

And, leaving that behind was a great relief. The conflict (and the sleepless nights – which were almost every night) disappeared and I became more relaxed and happy with myself.

Until last week when, again, the anger at the way that people thought rose up and engulfed me as it used to do which has, already morphed into disappointment and is fast changing to disillusionment.

And then this little old lady died. And it helped me to understand the problem. For it was she that spearheaded the drive to “self”. It was her that, rather than clip the wings of the unions, destroyed them and, with it, any pretence of people working together – so much so that, during the 90s there was much made of team building – necessary because the whole thing had changed and it was all about oneself and not the general good.

Don’t get me wrong, the unions needed to be curbed – just not destroyed. The over-large, mammoth nationalised industries needed to be reformed, just not broken up, sold off to the highest bidder and then dismantled. The annoyance that BT (British Telecom), for example, no longer care about serving the British public but only about making a profit seems incongruous if it comes from the right-wing thinkers. That was, in the end, what they stood for and that is why this now-dead lady sold them off – so they could pursue profit above everything else.

I came to understand that during my time as a “businessman”. The pursuit of profit was, of course, important but not at the expense of everything and everyone. And that’s why I couldn’t understand those people who were, of course, Thatcher’s children – children who had grown up believing that it everything was up to you and you should ignore anyone who stood in your way destroying or, at least, leaving behind those who were less fortunate than yourself.

I don’t have any strong emotion for the little old lady who died. I don’t know her after all. And I don’t hate her for what she was. She was, after all, a product of the age, of the self-serving union’s super-powers and she was lucky that, at that moment, many people (and even me!) agreed that “something” had to be done.

But, in the end, as people in power (the unions in the 70s and Thatcher and Blair in the 80s and 90s) do, they took it too far and destroyed the very fabric of the country and, for that, I was angry which has turned, in time, into disappointment then to disillusionment and, finally, into resignation. It is the way things are.

Was she responsible? Yes, to a certain extent, she was. Should she be vilified? Well, yes, if that lights your candle – but do it in private or use it as an example of what to do right or what to do to fix it. And remember that although she may be typical of “that kind of person”, she was just one of them. The problem is that she, as a result of becoming the Prime Minister and having so much power, created a whole world filled with the same type of people. Those people without compassion. Selfish and ignorant to to the needs of those around them. Less of a team than a collection of individuals, each striving for their own goals.

Some,of course, would say that that was alright. Certainly those who are Thatcher’s children and benefited from this way of thinking.

For me, I am glad I am out of it. I am glad I don’t think like that. I realise that, as a result, probably, I am and will never be rich and powerful – but that’s OK by me.

Now to get through this stage (this current one from last week) and move on. This time, retaining enough of the anger/disappointment/disillusionment to make sure that I move on, not only in my mind, but also in reality.

Finally, am I glad she’s dead? No, I’m not. In the end, this fragile little old lady died. Alone in a hotel room. We’re all alone when we die but I would like someone to be there to hold my hand. Maybe she didn’t want or need that but I somehow doubt it and, for that, I am sad for her.

And, although I don’t particularly like him (possibly because he IS one of Thatcher’s children), this piece from Russell Brand is rather good.

Do you want your kids to be gay?

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David Davies, some homophobic Conservative MP (well, MP for Monmouth, actually) has suggested that

“most parents would prefer their children not to be gay”

As a result, there has been all sorts of articles and people attacking him.

Sorry, but, as a gay man, I agree.  Why would anyone WANT their child to be born to be discriminated against?  I mean to say, if they are gay is one thing but you wouldn’t actually want it – in the same way that you wouldn’t WANT your child to be blind or deaf from birth.

Of course, in reality, it’s a sad reflection on society as a whole but, unusually (and probably a first), I agree with him.  I’ve seen too many gay people who are unhappy with how they are – not because they are gay, per se, but because they have found it difficult to ‘fit into’ a world full of gay-bashers, gay-haters and a general feeling of being unwanted.

The fact that he’s said this, of course, should mean that he backs the gay marriage thing – if only to make this preference disappear (or, at least, be reduced).  Sadly, he doesn’t heed his own words and, instead of a reflection of (a bad) society he treats it as a good reason to oppose gay marriage.  MPs should be about making society better not trying to make it worse.

Oh ….. wait …. stupid me.  MPs have never really been about that, have they?

Meanwhile, the will we/won’t we debate about gay marriage rumbles on …….. and on ……

It’s worse than pulling teeth.

The end of the world?

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Imagine a different world.

A world where everyone considers everything they do and say as to what impact it has on other people – and then they censor what they do/say based on whether there is someone, anyone, out there who will find it distatseful or, God forbid, offensive.

It’s a kind of utopia. Everyone will be nice and courteous. Nothing will be said that will ‘hurt our feelings’. Nothing, quite obviously, will be said in rage and, as a consequence, there will be no anger.

Without anger, there will be no need to defend anything and without the need for defence, there will be no war.

And everyone will live happily ever after.

Won’t they?

I mean, surely, that’s what we all want, sin’t it?

The problem with this, of course, is that the term ‘free speech’ becomes redundant. If you are only free to say nice things, what’s the point?

I try to be nice to people, espcially people I know. A friend I haven’t seen for two years or so was told by me that she ‘looked fabulous’. She did – but that’s not really the point. I am, of course, able to say ‘You look tired’ but a) it wasn’t true and b) I don’t think it’s very nice to say that. So I don’t. She’s changed her hair. It’s now short and blonde. I could have said a) your hair looks awful or b) you look like a prostitute. But I didn’t because it wouldn’t have been true and, anyway, it’s not a nice thing to say. Instead, I said ‘Your hair looks lovely’, which it did.

So, was I using ‘free speech’ and saying what I felt? Well, yes but, equally, even if they hadn’t been true, I may have said something like that anyway. And, at that point, I am no longer using ‘free speech’.

But, why not? Didn’t people fight for this right? And if people laid their lives down for this right, why the hell ain’t I using it?

But what if I DID? What then?

Well, most probably, old friends would, suddenly, be a little unfriendly. Now, if I didn’t care, that wouldn’t really be a problem, I guess.

And, at what point would something I said become genuinely offensive? And how do you measure offensive in the first place?

Does the feeling of ‘That’s not very nice’ constitute offence? What if something said makes you feel like bursting into tears? Does that make it offensive?

What if I made some joke about a person who had recently died? A sick joke? I mean, a really sick joke about someone who died very recently that I didn’t know? Well, the dead person wouldn’t be offended. But their family? There again, how would their family know if I just told this very sick joke to my friends who live thousands of miles away from the family?

But, what if one of MY firends was offended by it? There again, how can they really be offended. Are they just saying they’re offended because they think my joke is really sick and not something one should say?

And what is the difference between telling a really sick joke to my friends from saying, for example, that I’m going to blow an airport up should my flight be cancelled for the fourth time, when I’m really angry. I mean, we all say things in the heat of the moment. Things said in anger aren’t really meant.

How many times have you said, ‘Oh I could kill so-and-so’ but, in reality, and, even given a weapon and anonimity, you would NEVER do such a thing. It’s an expression to mean you are REALLY pissed off with a person.

‘They should just bomb the place’ – another expression which I’ve heard said because someone doesn’t like what they’ve heard of about or seen at a place. It doesn NOT mean that they would actually do it. And, if the murder or bombing were to actually take place, most normal people would be horrified that they had said it.

After all, these are just words, however tasteless and disgusting they may be.

And, if we go back to our utopian idea of having a world where no one says anthing that will offend anyone else – what kind of monstrous world have we created?

And yet, this is what ‘they’ seem to be trying to achieve.

And it would be as boring as hell or worse. Even if I don’t agree, or even like, what people say and even if I am outraged by some of the stuff that’s said or done in this world – at least it is premitted to be said or done.

Anyway, for more of the same, read this little article.

Let’s just say that mob rule is the real offensive thing here. And even without the prison sentence, I think that, maybe, Matthew Woods has learnt a valuable lesson – as we all do when we are young and say things that may be considered offensive or crass. Most of us, nearly all of us, don’t go to jail for it, though!

Saving? Where? Oh – you mean NOT spending more than before? Is that saving? Really?

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Imagine I spend €300 per month, every month.

Then imagine that the government decide to increase sales tax (VAT/IVA) or something from next month. It will mean that, in future, instead of spending €300 I will have to spend €350.

Then, imagine that the government decide to postpone the tax increase until, let’s say, the end of the year.

So, instead of spending €300, as I do now, I will be spending €300 – the same – until the end of the year.

Let me just count out how much I have ‘saved’. Oh, I see that, in fact I have not saved anything but I will not be spending extra for a little while yet.

Compare this with:

I spend €300 per month every month.

The government CUT taxes from next month. It will mean that, instead of spending €300 per month, I will be spending €250 per month. In this case I will be spending €50 less and, so I can actually ‘save’ that money. It’s a kind of bonus to me and is a real saving since I will, actually, be paying LESS.

People’s ideas of ‘saving’ is incredible. The only way you save anything is to spend LESS than you did before.

V used to try this thing with me some times, a long time ago, and it’s logic was of the very worst kind.

The little scenario went like this:

“Do you know how much I saved with this shirt?”

“Well, as you actually SPENT money, I can’t see how you have SAVED any at all!”

“But it was a bargain”

OK, so I paraphrase a lot – but you get the picture. I know other people who do this – it’s not just him.

But back to recent news.

If a tax increase is not put into effect, nobody has SAVED anything at all. It does mean that, in the future, people will not have to spend as much as they might, but it hasn’t made anything cheaper.

And so, this latest so-called U-turn by the government of the UK to NOT put up the tax on petrol (gas to you, Gail) as had been planned, is being lauded and trashed by all and sundry at the same time. But it seems, to me, that everyone is missing the point or points.

This decision to postpone the tax hike will NOT mean that anyone will SAVE money. They will just not spend as much as they might have done.

And this is no U-turn. The hike is not cancelled – merely postponed.

So here is something that is being done in response to the beating they were getting for daring to increase a tax when the country is all but down the drain (See my post Death Valley – UK High Street). But don’t think, for a moment, that anyone will be saving anything.

And then there was this little piece with a video of the Newsnight “interview”

… and then this stupidness – in the same paper!

To be honest, she deserved everything she got. The answer to “When did you know?” is very simple and involves a time or, at least, a date. From there on, it was always going to be downhill.

But, then, if they can equate ‘saving’ to ‘not having to spend more’ then, I guess, we’re all doomed. Might as well have V go and be Prime Minister! :-(

There’s the truth and then there’s a whole load of lies!

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To be frank, I never wanted to go in the first place.

I had joked about it raining so much that, maybe, it would all be flooded and then we couldn’t go.

We flew with Monarch to Birmingham. We arrived and had to put jackets on. It was decidedly chilly. We followed the crowd to go and reclaim our bags and then came to a grinding halt.

The ‘hall’ was fuller than full. The queue snaked back and forth on itself, as these things do now.

It took us one hour and a half to get through to our bags.

I noticed the signs on the side walls, explaining the delays. Apparently they were checking that the document you had used for the flight matched the one you were using now.

Except, like all the misinformation about security and stuff, it wasn’t that at all. It couldn’t have been! We got to the desk and I gave in my passport (which must, of course, be taken out of its holder – but only in the UK) and my colleague gave in her ID card. You can travel throughout Europe on your ID card and it was used for the flight.

“Don’t you have a passport?”, asked the surly man. It was said too fast and with a thick, brummy accent. I answered for my colleague knowing that she hadn’t understood. “No”.

I wanted to add that quite obviously, she couldn’t use her passport because you were checking with the flight and she hadn’t used the passport for the flight.

He sighed. He then proceeded to type the number into his computer. But the thing is – why? What’s the point? I mean, she’s from Italy, is Italian and wouldn’t ever want to stay in the country longer than necessary.

So there’s an excuse for the long queues which is, quite frankly, a big, big lie.

Instead, the whole experience left me with the over-riding feeling of being unwanted in the country – and it’s MY country!

Someone said that it was something to do with the Olympics – not that we were anywhere close to the Olympics. But if I had a ticket for one of the events I would now, seriously, consider selling it.

My advice: if you don’t need to go to the UK, then don’t go. Once you get there it’s not that good anyway.

I’m going to take my toys away and not play any more.

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[We are] sympathetic to those needs, we want to see a society in which gay people are fully included and their needs are fully provided for.

Except, of course, in this one case, where we don’t actually want them to be fully included at all.

In fact, if you do this, we’re going to take our toys away and sulk in the corner. And that’ll show you, won’t it!

Surprisingly, this is not a three-year-old child talking but some senior adult person in the Church of England.

They are, as you may have guessed, talking about marriage and the fact that by changing the law it will change the whole idea of marriage. Because marrying two people is not the same as marrying a man and a woman.

And, because they’re frightened that some of their powerbase will disappear and they will become irrelevant by virtue of some countries splitting from the CofE and becoming the Church of Nigeria or some other backward place.

However, what I didn’t know until now was that the CofE is obliged to marry a man and a woman (if they are residents of the UK) in their church, even if they are not of ‘the faith’. Apparently, it’s law. They have to do it. And they are worried that, for all the ‘safeguards’ from the government, the European Court of Human Rights might see things differently and determine that the current law should also apply to queer people.

Apparently, “Marriage benefits society in many ways, not only by promoting mutuality and fidelity [which, quite obviously it won’t be able to do once we allow gay people to marry], but also by acknowledging an underlying biological complementarity which, for many, includes the possibility of procreation.”
Hang on! Only 25% of people get married in Church anyway. So, that would be many (but not all) of that 25%, I guess. So, maybe 20% of the population!

And they say that gay people are a minority and trying to ride roughshod over these 20% of people’s views. So that’s a minority trying to tell another minority what to do? Whereas, the 20% that are saying we want everyone to be equal except in this case are NOT a minority trying to tell another minority what they can and can’t do?

Hmmmm.

If the church was fairly irrelevant before, it becomes more irrelevant with this kind of skewed argument.

But, didn’t they used to have all sorts of other ‘rules’ too? Like not marrying someone who was black to someone who was white? Did the change in law take anything away from the ‘institution of marriage’?

Not that I have a beef one way or another, since I won’t be getting married in or out of any church. But, really, what a hypocritical, bigoted bunch of w£$%&!rs they are. May their demise or revelation come quickly.

Quotes came from here

The end of the affair

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Well, finally, I did it.

The relationship hadn’t been that good anyway.

Really, I don’t know why I didn’t do it before but, to be honest, the daily emails (usually more than 4) about who had viewed my profile or winked at me or sent me an email when, because I wouldn’t pay (didn’t need) a subscription, I couldn’t even respond or see who they were – was all getting a bit much.

Even if I WAS looking now, I wouldn’t under any circumstances, use Meetic. Bloody lying useless site.

I remember only 2 people from that time ago, when I DID subscribe for a few months. One was the guy who said he was 44 but his wrinkly elbows said about 55 – and instead of going into Venice we went to his house and did nothing (except he did make a pass which I politely but firmly rejected). The other was someone that was only a number of emails. He never seemed to want to meet. I cancelled my subscription after the minimum, ‘special rate’ period and would never bother with them again.

So, one hopes, good riddance.

Probably except the odd email to implore me to ‘come back’.

Stuff them.