I have blogarrhoea today, I know, but............Oh no! Bad news. The price of oil futures has plummeted on international markets since the Iranians released the captive British sailors. They're already calling it Fucked Up Thursday!
Now, I am no fan of the glorified game of roulette which is the Stock Market, nor of the supposed "fact" that the market in general has to govern every aspect of life on earth, but I have a money-spinning idea for all those lizards who gamble with people's lives through stocks, shares and futures.
Here's how it works. The way I understand it is that if the market is "high" the £1 in your pocket is actually worth, say, £1.10, and if it is low that poor old coin is only really worth about 90p (see why I fucking hate capitalism?). Now, if the market drops because captured sailors and the like are released then, surely, the market will rise when some replacements are offered up for recapture?
If the market rises then the fat cats' pockets begin to bulge. So, all you have to do if you run some global corporation or something is arrange for some of your staff to get kidnapped! Instead of those namby-pamby, nimby-wimby profit sharing plans, you could introduce Kidnap Incentive Share Schemes for employees - "KISS Goodbye To Your Freedom With Nazi Inc's New Plan"? All the workers would have to do to enjoy a very small percentage of the Stock Market rise would be to get through a paltry four or five years chained to a radiator while eating horse shit and having their genitals wired up to a Trabant car battery every other day.
It's a belter. I think I shall give Alan Sugar a bell and put forward my idea, which I have, and which is mine, in between telling him what a fat waste of space he is and how he would be first out of the fucking lifeboat because he contributes nothing but absorbs all. Hurrah!
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To Make You Laugh and Cry
I was listening to this on a Sunday, the very-soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither is a Catholic, Tom Lehrer is one of my all-time heroes and this is one of his best.............no other reasons.
On a more sombre note (and with thanks to Fish for coming up with this Woman's-Own-passes-the-time-in-the-dentist's-waiting-room nonsense), why not get a computer to tell you that you are a waste of space and your life is a sham of a mockery of a farce? Ok, it's from one of those poxy dating sites but...go on, take the test. You ain't got much to beat!!
Apparently, in my case, "computer say 'no!'"
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