Jobcentres

Here’s a link to a local news forum thread called “Jobcentres” which was started in July 2009 by someone the DWP / Jobcentre Plus desperately needs.

http://forum.lancashiretelegraph.co.uk/viewtopic.php?t=4528

Now a 32 page thread with close to 500 replies and 35120 views, “Happywalker” has gotten one or two things off his chest and made some pretty valid points too.

It’s a shame the powers that be don’t go to any effort to gain the views and experiences of those using their service because these people (aka Dole Scum with unusual and unnerving levels of intelligence) see on a rolling basis just how shit the service is and tend to know how to fix it.

DWP People – the Dole Scum are coming and eyeing up your desk tidy…

School Run Mums

To the umpteen pain in the arse “Mums” with 4×4’s they can’t drive and 50 kids they somehow accumulate on the school run -

Those car doors you have a thing for leaving wide open? 

Yeah, well – they cause an obstruction to everyone trying to walk down the pavement.

The habit you have of standing just at the edge of the car doors you’ve left wide open? 

Your big fat arses cause even more of an obstruction to everyone trying to walk down the pavement.

That yapping you love to do with other clueless, fat arsed Mum’s as you all stand there with car doors wide open, causing an obstruction to everyone trying to walk down the pavement? 

FUCK OFF AND DO IT SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Delirium, confusion and memory lapse during Childbirth?

I’m intrigued by what appears to be much more common than I’d initially thought – stories of confusion, delirium and loss of memory during childbirth.

My first labour (nearly thirteen years ago now) was induced and, despite being very quick at just short of four hours, it was intense from start to finish. To this day, there is about 60 – 90 mins of that short labour of which I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever. Other parts are extremely vague and sit in a corner of my mind like a hazy memory of a dream from years ago. My Mum was with me throughout and remembers how I “went barking mad for a bit”, almost as though I were pumped full of drugs that had suddenly well and truly kicked in.   Trouble was, I hadn’t had any pain relief and was now making such little sense, rambling incoherently and acting out of character, my Mum had to step in and fight my corner because I was in no fit state.

I remember happily watching TV as the midwife was finishing setting up the drip and then literally minutes later, rolling around on the bed and gripping the cot sides for dear life, not knowing what the hell to do with myself and feeling what I can only describe as being desperation. I don’t even know what the desperation was for either – as daft as it sounds, it wasn’t “I desperately want this pain to stop” feeling. It was just a hellish combination of desperation, confusion and terror that I can’t quite describe.

I vaguely remember hearing my Mum shout at the midwives to “Do something – this isn’t like her at all” but her voice seemed as though it were floating somewhere in the distance, as though I were overhearing her speak in another room. Then I remember a midwife ordering me to stay perfectly still for a moment (Daughter was suddenly putting in an appearance and I couldn’t lie on my back because of the epidural that had just been fitted) and then the anaesthetist bounding back into the delivery room, visibly surprised that I was now delivering when he’d only just stepped outside. After a brief argument between the people in green, one of them mentioned something about cutting me and then a few seconds later, I was face to face with “ET”, weighing just 5lbs 3oz and screeching her little head off.

The confusion and memory loss is something I’ve often thought was my brain’s response to the physical pain I was all of a sudden faced with but nobody else seems to have heard of anything similar and, given the experience couldn’t have been any different when I had my son two years later, I just figured I was on my own with how it was first time around. Then, earlier this week, I found this article on “cases of delirium during labour” which then prompted me to post on a discussion forum elsewhere, asking other women if they’d experienced anything similar.

Over fifty women replied with very similar accounts of confusion, memory loss and erratic, completely uncharacteristic behaviour they experienced and interestingly, many of these occurred during an induced and / or first labour.

One woman said “With my first labour I ‘lost’ about 2 hrs, I was on gas and air and in my head I was on My old school field but I could ‘see’ myself giving birth, and was thinking thank god that’s not me. Then I had this strange sensation of rushing/flying back into my own body, and then the realisation hit me that it was me giving birth and I screamed so loudly and got really out of control and upset….very, very strange experience”

Another said “It’s such a relief to know that other women had the same problems. I have had PTSD since my daughter was born and the blanks and flashbacks have always worried me. I thought I must have completely lost it. I also distinctly remember a few hours post delivery I was wheeled onto the ward and left (with no buzzer) and I was sure my newborn daughter was talking to me. Her lips were moving and everything and she kept talking about spiders. I know now that I was so exhausted I was hallucinating and it’s become a funny story but at the time I had no buzzer, no help, numb legs from the emcs and I was seeing spiders and talking babies. I thought I’d gone mad”

And another, “I remember insisting I was going home. I was absolutely definite that I was going and they could carry on without me. The rest is deleted by my brain”

It’s generally considered easier after your first but the difference when I had my son was unreal.  The hospital was a bit too keen on inducing me again and I had to fight like a rabid dog to get them off my back about it. I’d agreed to be induced if my son didn’t show up on his own within seven days of the due date and / or other problems arose but as it happened, he decided to show up without anyone’s help.  Because the contractions grew stronger and more frequent quite steadily, I was able to mentally prepare for each one as it happened and nothing came as a surprise or a shock. My body and brain had time to get used to what was happening and brace itself for the next contraction that was inevitably going to be more painful than the last.

The delivery was another quick one at just four hours but was relatively plain sailing and problem free. I had a 7lbs 14oz baby without analgesia and with my memory intact. I walked into the hospital at 1am, had my son at 3am and, having been allowed to sleep for a couple of hours in an empty delivery room, didn’t need to go onto the ward and was back home by 9am.

What I’m convinced played a huge role in my brief madness when I had my daughter was the sudden onset of incredibly forceful contractions. I wasn’t mentally prepared for anything like what happened and whilst I know no woman can fully prepare herself for first time labour, it happened so suddenly and with such force, my brain almost didn’t seem to know what was going on with my body and everything just went tits up.

I’m really quite fascinated by this now, because for almost thirteen years, I’ve been dismissed as it being a one-off and my memory lapse and confusion / disorientation considered something unique to me only. Interestingly, most of the women that give accounts as above, had either induced labours or delivered very quickly.

I’d love to know just how common this actually is.

Life, Death and Love

Yesterday’s Royal Wedding seems to have sparked off nostalgia and romanticism amongst many, with lots of talk about weddings, hopes and dreams bouncing around.

I’m not the type to get all gushy (being quite possibly the least sentimental woman in the world) so up until today, I haven’t thought much about the finer details of my wedding for a long time.  I’m glad I did though because I remembered one or two things that I’d forgotten about and one or two others that might just turn up again for a very last time.

First of all, I had a low key and informal wedding with only immediate family and close friends asked to join us.  We hired a beautiful Manor House which was out in the back of beyond and ours for the day and made the most of it by lounging, playing games in the gardens, paddling and skimming stones in the river, eating, drinking and laughing.  We played “rounders”, “hide and seek” and the blokes later decided on an immensely hardcore game of British Bulldog.

For a short while on my wedding day, I had some time on my own as others were playing games, having a stroll or snoozing in an armchair somewhere.

I sat overlooking the gardens, listening to the fabulous selection of tracks that someone picked out and put on earlier on in the day and singing along to Norah Jones’ “Shoot the Moon”

I remember just closing my eyes and having a wonderful feeling of peace and serenity.

I’m sure that in the last moments of my life, I’ll have an American Beauty style flashback that will take me back to the hazy evening sunshine on that terrace where I sat with daisies in my hair, my feet up on the wooden patio furniture and “The Autumn Stone” playing in the background.

I’m happy with that.

Must Try Harder!

Was rummaging through some old stuff earlier today which I didn’t even know I’d kept.   I found several reports, comments, compliments and insults made by teachers / tutors and various folk over the years.  Thought I’d share some with you.  Don’t know why – I just thought I would.

“A clown. Complete clown.  Too concerned with being a clown to knuckle down and concentrate on her studies”

-          Mr H, Geography Teacher

“An articulate young lady with a fine mind and imagination.  A little disappointed with the poor effort she has put into her coursework for both Language and Literature, particularly as she is so able.  Hopefully, she will have enough time and motivation to work on this before her finals.  Buck your ideas up and stop letting yourself down!”

-          Mr F  – English Teacher (GCSE)

“Pays not even the slightest attention during lessons, reflected very clearly by the work she consistently fails to produce”

-          Mr C – History

“Difficult, disruptive, argumentative, awkward.  Spends a great deal of time challenging the curriculum and is frequently removed from the class for insolence.  Were it not a compulsory subject I would request expulsion”

-          Mrs B – Religious Education

“Spends most lessons goofing around with classmates and being generally disruptive.  Apart from her apparent fascination with Bunsen Burners and the lab’s paper towel dispenser, has no interest whatever in Sciences”

-          Mr S – Science

“By her own admission, finds scripted work a little hard going but comes into her own when given the freedom of improvisation.  A joy to work with when the mood suits but can be somewhat treacherous when she lacks motivation.  Good luck with this year’s production!”

-          Mr J – Drama / Theatre Studies teacher

“Has excellent vocal ability which was evident during the performance of “Ocean World”.  Despite this, has no interest in becoming lead soloist and is slowly developing a poor attitude for music theory.  Much to the disappointment of many, has chosen not to continue with Music at GSCE Level”

-          Mr R – Music Teacher

“Haunting, beautiful, powerful”

-          Review for Ocean World, Royal Festival Hall, London

*Clip is of opening song – the blonde lead soloist in this vid isn’t me!  It’s Toni Rolland, now Head of Music at St Augustine’s.

 “The theatre is home to many talented members but “Cowardly Lion” stole the show.  Played by a female cast member, Lion’s performance was truly sensational with perfect comedy timing and spontaneous improvisation, providing the icing on the cake.  Look forward to seeing the cast again next year”

“Newspaper / magazine review for Wizard of Oz  (I was Cowardly Lion)

“The performance overall was enjoyable but some members would have been much better cast in different role, if not difference productions.  Cast members playing Rizzo and Kenicke were bold, brass, bolshy, cocky and seemed to relish in stealing the limelight.   Perhaps the directors would do well to consider the requirement of supporting cast.

Review for”Grease” (I was Rizzo)

“Only turns up for classes because it serves as somewhere to go.  Frequently removed from lessons for her disruptive behaviour and does not bother taking part in studies at all.  Not surprised to hear she will not be continuing at GCSE level”

-          Mrs N – Home Economics

“Bright, able and is expected to do well in her final / practical this summer.  Stop acting the goat and you’ll find these skills are transferrable!”

Mrs N – Touch Typing / Word Processing

 

“It is fair to say that she is one of the least child-care orientated or maternal pupils I have taught.  I sincerely hope this attitude has changed by the time she has children of her own”

Mrs C – Childcare & Development

“She is naturally inquisitive, thinks out all her options very carefully and seems able to find ways around most obstacles with minimal effort.  Has a real flair for Criminal Law which I think she should consider progressing further. She is perhaps the most argumentative, challenging student I’ve taught in some years which I think means she has a promising career in the legal profession!”

Mr J – A Level Law

 

“Unorthodox with a somewhat “rough round the edges” approach to riding.  Nevertheless, this is what appears to make her an extremely competent, confident and highly skilled rider.  Not one for formal, disciplined events but a natural XC event rider in every sense of the word”

Marion Livesey – BHS Riding Instructor / Equestrian Event Judge

 

“Her playing is shit.  Her singing is shit.  Her cooking is shit.  Everything really….yeah, she’s just shit”

-          My eldest brother on my overall talent after a “charidee” gig I’d played in.  Must find the review that guy wrote actually.  It was one of the nicest things I’ve ever read.

How To Annoy People

I love other people that share my love of annoying people on Call of Duty and I particularly love this guy.

I actually think I manage to even more annoying than Kevin because being a girl means other gamers aren’t entirely sure whether I really am trying to locate Pikachu’s golden jewels on Black Ops, or if I’m just pretending to be that thick.

Kevin does fair well in the old annoying stakes though, it has to be said.  He’s my hero.

Why are so many “Christians” unpleasant?

I’m not having a pop at ALL Christians here – OK?  Need to point that out right from the start.   It’s just a lot of Christians give the whole setup a bad rep and offer little justice for the rest who are decent, good people.

I couldn’t give a monkey’s chuff what people believe. If someone wants to live their life as a Christian, Muslim, Buddhist or wants to worship a small pebble they found and think is God – no worries.  The thing is, it’s not often religious people return the compliment or accept that we just don’t go along with their beliefs and not only that; they get seriously arsy about it too.

I attended Catholic schools and lost count of the number of times I heard about a huge ball of fire heading towards earth with my name on it. I was damned to hell because my parents had divorced and because I had the audacity to question what they were telling us.  I once was frogmarched to the head teacher’s office after my RE teacher read the essay I had written and in it, dared to say that their theories on sex, contraception and pro-life issues didn’t sit easy with me.

A religious group had this whole “Christians are being persecuted” thing going on last year and used the worst examples ever to support their arguments.  They talked of the nurse that was suspended for her unprofessional approach towards a patient she was seeing in the community, an airline employee that was sacked for refusing to take off her chain with a cross on it and then cited other cases where group members were escorted from shopping malls in the US after they’d spent a fair amount of time badgering shoppers with leaflets and talk of how the world will end rather unpleasantly for non-believers.   That the nurse knew full well her conduct was unprofessional, the airline employee knew the chain was breaching uniform policy and the others were aware of a strict “no badgering people” rule in US shopping precincts didn’t seem to bother them.

Stop hassling others to go along with your views.   It should be no skin off your nose if others disagree so stop acting as though you work for commission only. Why this overwhelming urge to have everyone else agree with what you say?

Recently, I sat there with my mouth almost on the floor as some guy on a Christian TV Channel invited believers to call and purchase a green handkerchief that would answer all their prayers and make them richer, happier and better people.  There was even the claim that this particular green handkerchief had defied medical science and beaten cancer.    The deliberate and blatant targeting of the vulnerable was the most outrageous thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Some leading manufacturers have had to pull ads that stated their products were capable of things that technically, could not be guaranteed – and yet here was some fella telling dying people this green hanky will cure them of their terminal illness.

You’re not being persecuted for being Christian. It’s because you’re such pompous and downright rude and sometimes nasty people whose faith gets in the way of common sense. That why you keep landing yourself up shit creek.

“The Green Prosperity Prayer Handkerchief” ??   Holy fu@king DOG SHIT.  God is gonna be so pissed over that one.

http://www.donstewartassociation.org

FACEBOOK HACK

Last night, I clicked on a link to Mindjolt Games and was automatically logged into my daughter’s Facebook account. She’d been using my laptop earlier in the evening and foolishly, didn’t log out….. Oh the possibilities – the fun I could have had!

I’m not a snoop or the type to spy on my kids though. All I did was change her profile picture to a large, crisp jacket potato and update her status to “For she’ a Jacket Potato, for she’s a Jacket Potato, for she’s a Jacket Potatooooooooooooooooo……. which nobody can deny”

Off she went to school this morning, completely oblivious to the fact her pretty profile picture was no more. She’ll go apeshit when her mates tell her she was hacked by her own mother.

Once upon a time..

“Once up a time there lived a beautiful prostitute but she died following a drugs overdose in a dingy old flat…”

THE END

VALENTINE’S DAY

Valentine’s Day is a big fat bag of bollocks.   The only Valentine’s present I every bought my husband was just a few months into our relationship.   I’d already said “I don’t do Valentine’s – seriously.    That’s not a girly way of saying “Buy me something or I’ll sulk and scrike and remind you of it for years to come” type thing either.  I MEAN I don’t do Valentine’s“

To show him I wasn’t even remotely joking, I bought him a plastic turd that makes horrific farting noises when you squeezed it. In return, he made me a card that said “STUPID BITCH” and I knew this was the man I was going to marry.

We have spent almost twelve years deliberately annoying each other and winding each other up. He scares the living shit out of me by hiding in cupboards or under the bed and I deface his car when it’s dirty and write WANKER on the bonnet, letting him drive around all day without noticing.

And that my dear friends, is love.