Welcome to the UK

Apparently, some Government think tank or whatever thinks that it'll be a good idea to produce a welcome pack to give to new immigrants to the UK. The pack would contain handy tips like, don't touch people without their permission, don't spit, don't bother learning to speak English, that sort of thing. I suppose it's a good idea in some respects, although you'd have thought that people would've done a bit of work to find out about the customs and ways of life here before applying to come here?

Anyway, the good old BBC, voice of the NuLabour, have done their usual job of identifying a sample of "hard working" immigrants and asked them how they found it when they first came here (see this link).

One comment in this article really made me lol to myself: Polish labourer Christopher Kozolkowski, 34, is waiting to be picked up for work. "You can't be in any way racist if you want to live here," he says. "In London you have black and white, Arab and Jew, living right next to each other. You have to leave your prejudices at home because we're all the same underneath."

So it's OK to be a racist in Poland, but not here. It's so nice to have our doors thrown open to people from countries with such retarded attitudes to equality. I suppose there are as many bigots here, the only difference between here and places like Poland is that you're not allowed to be a bigot in public.


Shepherds pie
I made shepherds pie for tea tonight, only it was cottage pie, not shepherds (beef, not lamb). I always call it shepherds pie though because cottage pie sounds rather unsavoury, like something Tazzy and Piggy might get up to. Anyway, not feeling too good on Saturday (I thought I was just depressed, but it turned out I was getting ill with TB too), I sent Trump to the shop on her own. I don't know why she does it, youthful defiance I suppose, but she always goes against my wishes and shops at Asda - shithole. I put it down to lack of patience on her part and lack of edible stock at Asda, but the mince she bought, although advertised as "minced beef" was clearly minced cow; bits of beef bulked out with fat and god knows what. How they have the cheek to sell that stuff. Dirty bastards.

I've just noticed that the lovely "Vancouver" 2008 calendar that April brought me was purchased at Walmart. Jesus, I'm surrounded by them. I thought she was surprisingly content in the hell-hole that is Asda Eastlands when I took her there last week. Then again, it was late afternoon and not 10pm, when most of the local Asian families think it's an appropriate time to take their young children from their beds to go shopping, allowing them to scream for the duration.


Sick
Another Monday and another sick day - that's about the fourth in the last year. Fucking disgrace. I don't know why I always feel like shit on Mondays, well, I do today; it's that dirty bitch April, spreading her germs while she was here, but the last few times I've been off sick have been on Mondays. Weird. I think it's that lack of sleep on a Sunday night, in combination with depression, inducing crippling migraines (meegraines), but it looks very bad.

I spent the day snoozing in bed, being woken constantly by the screaming baby next door. Whinging little shit never lets up. It's no doubt practising for when it's old enough to be taken to Asda with its older sister at 11pm.


Stuff to watch
I have managed to get hold of the first five episodes of Season 5 of The L Word (currently showing in the States, not due for UK screens until autumn) - fabulous. I'm also looking forward to watching "Life", which stars Damian Lewis and the lovely Sarah Shahi (Carmen de la Pica Morales of the L Word) - not sure when or if this is due to be screened in the UK.

Oh the wonders of modern technology.