Rules are rules

I'm a stickler for following rules and I can't abide rule breaking.

I was in Morisson's supermarket earlier, getting some stuff for tea while trying to grab as many grocery and carrier bags for picking up poo (supplies are running low). Steak pie, oven chips, baking spuds and mushrooms in my basket, I headed for the "Hand baskets, cash only" till. The bloke being served paid by debit card. I could the hear woman behind him suck her teeth and I noticed her look up animatedly at the "hand baskets, cash only" sign.

They paid by cash. Gold star.

The young bloke in front of me paid by card too. BLACK MARK!

I pickced up the next cutomer bar, which clearly stated "Hand baskets, cash only", and placed it bheind my shopping on the conveyor as the woman behind me unloaded the contents of her TROLLEY.... yes, a TROLLEY!... onto the conveyor. I was shocked and appalled.

If people can't comply with simple rules of shopping, is there any hope that they'll comply with the law of the land? I don't think so.

Heading home, I was confronted by a psychotic bus driver as he swerved out of the bus depot, forcing me to swerve around him. He then drove up my arse until he could overtake; flying past at about 50mph - in a 30 zone! Where the fuck had the Drive Safe spying twat gone who'd been photographing motorists at that very spot just earlier on?

Bus drivers are all mental. And they're all total bastards too.

We're heading for total anarchy in the UK.


Salt of the earth
The working classes of Britain are the salt of the earth.

The woman from next door came out to meet us as we got back from walkies this afternoon. "He's a total pain in the arse" she said, referring to Rocky. I scuttled inside and let Trump deal with her.

According to her - whose husband often wakes us up hoiking up greenies through the night; who has visitors coming and going at all ours of night, slamming the front door; who has the telly on so loud that I can hear it from the bedroom - according to her, Little Rocky howls all day and into the early hours of the morning.

LIES! Yes, he's a little bastard who hates being left on his own, locked in the kitchen, but I know that he stops his yelps within about an hour or so of us leaving him - I've returned within this time to find him quiet. As for yelping into the early hours? LIES! He hasn't made a peep since he started sleeping in the living room over a week ago.

We live in terraced houses, you hear noises from your neighbours. We're often woken by our other neighbour phoning Karachi or Lahore or wherever and shouting for hours on end from 4am. We're often woken by numpties having arguments on the street.

I just loved the way she didn't come round and tell us, but instead waited until she collared us (Trump) in the street. Yes it's annoying, yes I hate upsetting the neighbours, but it's not as if it's something that we're doing deliberately. And it's not as if it's not getting better. I'm going to record him tomorrow and see how long he goes on for. If it's more than half an hour, we'll have a look at what can be done to stop him.

I might just suggest that she turns the telly up even louder than it already is. I'm surprised she can hear anything over that anyway.


Salt of the pie
I'm not liking the way that supermarkets are reducing the salt content of food these days. You buy a Tesco Indian meal and it's delish, but contains no salt. How can this be authentic? My pie was woefully lacking in salt. I'm sure you end up taking in more salt by adding it than you would've done if they'd just have kept the recipe as it was.

Fucking food Nazis.