Primeval Mudd

Under-informed rantings.

My Unambitious Political Hope

This is not a call to revolution and it’s not much of a hope to be honest:

My hope is that Labour lose a shit load of members over the next few months, enough to make them ask why they’ve been deserted. They get told,

‘It’s because you abandoned the workers you numpties!’

Labour then start listening to the people who are being hardest hit by the Tories, start listening to the trade unions and start listening to folk like Richard Murphy before coming back in a year or so with policies for fair taxation, public services kept public, economic growth and a welfare state that actually supports, rather than demonises, those who need it.

Then their support builds, people rejoin, activists become active again and Labour win the next election by just enough seats to form a majority, preferably in a house without a single Lib Dem MP and plenty of Greens and independents.

That’s what I think I’d like to happen.

Ironing

Ironing, like soap operas, was invented by men in less equal times to keep women occupied, thus preventing their co-ordinating an overthrow of the paternalistic hegemony.

It serves no practical purpose whatsoever beyond satisfying our conditioned belief that creased clothes don’t look as good as ironed ones.

Ban this filth! Embrace the crease!

Geeks

Another song, not to be taken too seriously.

The hot chick pic’s obligatory,
On every site that sells I.T.
Coz they think, not unreasonably,
That a hot chick pic is the only chick that the bloke in to I.T. is ever gonna see.

It really shouldn’t be that way,
Coz geeks and nerds, straight, bi or gay,
Have the skills for good foreplay,
Listening to what you say,
And the stamina to stay down there for days.

So grab a geek coz we know what we’re doing,
Nab a nerd coz we know how things run,
Grab a geek, we’ll make you shudder, whimper, moan and wail,
And coz we get turned on by a job well done,
We’re guaranteed to make you cum.

We know the right buttons to press,
And how to use a joystick best,
The sockets that we should caress,
The plugins that are a success,
When the laptop’s off and we are both undressed.

We know that we’ll never be cool,
But we’ve a plethora of tools,
We’ve bits and bites and hard drives too,
We’ve routines that will make you drool,
Learned in extra classes at geek school.

Grab a geek, we pay attention to detail,
Nab a nerd, for some interface fun,
Grab a geek, we’ll make you shudder, whimper, moan and wail,
And coz we get turned on by a job well done,
We’re guaranteed to make you…

Grab a geek when you want some hard coding,
Nab a nerd for some defragging fun,
Grab a geek, we’ll make you shudder, whimper, moan and wail, without fail,
And coz we get turned on by a job well done,
We’re guaranteed to make you cum.

Brendan’s Balls

I wrote a song at last week’s PCS Conference, recorded it today and popped it on Soundcloud. All characters portrayed are, of course, completely fictitious.

We’re going to Brighton, we’re going to put the World to rights,
We’re going to Brighton, to show that we are up for the fight,
Because we are right and the Government’s shite.

When we’ve left Brighton, we’ll show the World what we can do,
When we’ve left Brighton, we hope that you will join the fight too,
Coz what we say is true, the Government’s poo.

Brendan won’t like it at all, Brendan’s balls are too small.

We’re going to London, to have a word Cameron,
We’re going to London, to let him know we’re not going to run,
We’re spoiling his fun, his Government’s done.

We’re going to tell him, that his cuts can go to hell,
We’re going to tell him, the public sector ain’t his to sell,
We’ll tell him aswell that his Government smells,

Brendan won’t impressed, his balls are distressed.

We’ll go to Clapham, to celebrate our victory,
We’ll go to Clapham, to drink and watch a massive telly,
So we can see Cameron on his knees.

Brendan’s just gonna’ watch, his balls have dropped off.

Sexuality and Cheese

I was going to write something about the latest Tory attempts to scupper trade unions. It would have ended up too ranty.

I considered writing about the Royal Wedding. That would have ended up too sweary.

I even briefly flirted with the idea of writing about AV but felt myself falling asleep before I’d even constructed the first sentence.

So, I’m going to write about sexuality and cheese. Specifically my own sexuality, for that is the only sexuality about which I feel qualified to comment with any authority, and goats cheese. Read more of this post

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