Andy's Glasses

There is no direct Scouse translation for the phrase ‘victimless crime’. None that anyone south of Stoke could understand anyway. But the reason is; whatever happens, Liverpool FC are the victims. The word ‘victim’ now has a permanent place on the club logo, just under the Liver-bird and all new players are tattooed with the word upon signing a contract, so they can start to adapt to their new role as defined (para. 26.15) “…superstar footballer first but whinging victim even more first. It is your entitlement as a Liverpool player/victim…”

Now here’s an interesting statistic which whizzed over my Whatsapp this morning. I’m not quite sure if it’s valid or statistically accurate, but quite frankly, I couldn’t give a shit. Because most statistics are not valid, or they’re biased, or corrupted in some way to suit the person/company paying for it. But this statistic compared the ‘big 6’ clubs and how many VAR decisions have gone for or against them. Spurs are the bottom team; having 1 more decision going against them than for them. And the top team; the one who have had 12 more VAR big decisions going for them than against them, are… Liverpool. The eternal victims of everything are suddenly not quite so victimy as they’d hoped. To get more refereeing decisions go your way than Manchester United is quite incredible.

But ‘we are the victims’ of the what was unquestionably the most ludicrous VAR decision in the entire history of VAR (3 years) is how it is proposed by Jurgen Klopp and his band of moaning scousers. To such an extent that he is asking the League to replay the match entirely. Wipe that error-ridden score off the pages and start again.

Can you just imagine? We would have to replay probably every single match in which someone either lost or drew unfairly. And if those replays have controversial moments, they may need a ‘best of 3’ situation to appease the Klopps of this world. Each season would last a decade, with no breaks or holidays. Groundhog Day for the fucking Premiership. Because if you’re a losing manager, why on earth wouldn’t you be wanting the replay the match?

Fuck off Jurgen. It would be the most horrendous precedent, condemning the league to even more moaning and blaming and scape-goating than we already have to suffer. And not just from Liverpool.

What is needed is VAR (if you must have that curse upon what was previously a ‘beautiful game’) transparency. Like rugby. With everyone privy to the conversation between ref and VAR. “Is there any reason I can’t give that goal?” “Was number 14 offside”. We all hear it, we all know and it removes the kind of ambiguity which resulted in Saturday’s farce. Ask a simple question. Rather than assuming that the fuckwit in the video room is actually paying attention.

And don’t get them started on HS2! Even though it was never going to Liverpool.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

Here’s a great idea: we’ll build a brand new railway network, specifically to provide much faster north to south of the country links but also because the existing network and tracks are all Victorian and beaten to shit by a century of abuse and neglect, bit like the Royal family. So we need to replace and might as well use the high-speed tracks and infrastructure, brilliant, just a snip at 37 bil, to run from Euston to Birmingham, Manchester, Crewe, Leeds, the Northeast and eventually, even to Scotland. Easier, faster transport to bring north and south together, seamlessly and speedily and… lots of other things-ly. We’re ‘levelling up!!!!’

That was 15 years ago. Now the price has risen to somewhere between 120 and 200 billion lots of people see it as a ‘vanity project’ when we need money to stop refugees from dying, children from stabbing each other, Ukrainians to have all the bombs they need and to have a few bob left over to provide medical treatments for the 2 million people waiting for appointments. So Rishi Sunak, never one to shy away from making changes-which-look-like-u-turns-but-aren’t-u-turns, issued a statement last week, when questioned about HS2. He said:

“Naaaaah, fuck dat, do we really want all those northerners in the capital? Thousands a day arriving at high speed. They’ll clog up the Euston Road. And no-one wants to go to Manchester, do they? I mean, we promised a link between ‘north and south’, well Birmingham’s north enough, innit? Feels like it on the train there. Then we don’t have to bother linking it up with Crewe or Leeds either; a win-win. By the time any of that might happen Scotland will have long since devolved, separated and lost its first war to the French. Let them build their own fucking trains. An’ while we’re at it, I don’t want Euston becoming South, South Manchester. So we’ll stop the trains in the middle of West London’s industrial wasteland, just over by Wormwood Scrubbs, a place so unappealing them northerners will get straight back on the next train north.

It will still be called ‘HS2’ but will now be billed as ‘the absolutely fastest way to get from Old Oak Common to Birmingham, EVER!!!’, that should win votes.

Happy Monday

A xxxx

HOLD THE FRONT PAGE! CANCEL THE TORY CONFERENCE! HAVE A CEASEFIRE IN UKRAINE! FORGET THAT SADIQ KAHN IS A TOTAL NOB!

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT THE SPURS/LIVERPOOL GAME LAST NIGHT!!!

A match so steeped in controversy, so riddled with errors and mistakes, a game so mired in issues and technicalities that it went on for about an hour too long. Thank God, because that extra, extra time, the 96th minute of ‘full time’, not counting the added 10 minutes plus an extra 3 to the first half, is when Spurs do their best work. We save it to the end.

If I was a Liverpool fan… I’d probably be in prison, but that’s not the point here. Though even those currently serving at His Majesty’s Pleasure would be indeed royally, and understandably pissed off with the events at the Lane. And even though Liverpool fans are famous for moaning and complaining, this time they may actually have a point. Or indeed several. This may need a… PUBLIC INQUIRY!!!!

The game was going swimmingly, Liverpool, lying second in the league in the morning, were overtaken by Arsenal’s lucky, 4-nil win at Bournemouth, whilst the leaders and obviously eventual winners, Man City actually lost at Wolves, with Brighton (3rd) getting mullered by Aston Villa. And Spurs were settling into their game for 24 minutes until…

A vicious, over the ball, studs to shin tackle on Yves Bissouma by Curtis Jones saw the Liverpool man get a yellow card. And rightly so. Or wrongly so. Because whilst VAR was agonising and analysing whether the event should be upgraded to a red card, us viewers at home watched it in 37 views from 96 angles. Half of which made it look like the worst tackle since Roy Keane retired, and half of which made it look like an accidental slip. So they asked the ref to watch it. And he immediately changed his yellow to red.

Spurs were now playing against 10 men, so that’s good, right? Normally, yeah, but Liverpool are special and within a few minutes they had the ball in the net. A lovely finish from Luis Diaz, who timed his run beautifully and was onside. But the VAR obligatory check, see today’s pic, showed quite obviously that he was quite a way offside and the goal was rightly disallowed. Because we only have VAR for one thing really, the only thing that is scientifically qualifiable and not subject to individual interpretation, like a handball or a foul. For offside. Thus we have replaced a system which works fairly well allowing for refs and linesmen to make the odd mistake, with a ‘full-proof’ system where they still make major league fuck-ups, but we get to waste 20 minutes each game waiting for them to do it.

Then Spurs scored. A real, non-controversial, lovely, clean Sonny-type goal. But 10 man-Liverpool fought boldly. And on the stroke of half time Gakpo equalised for the reds. Crippling himself in the process.

Spurs couldn’t break through. They kept pleading with the VAR to give them something, anything, but no, they just kept plugging away. Until the 68th minute when Diogo Jota fouled our fab left back Udogie and got a yellow card. But he enjoyed it so much, he repeated it 2 minutes later and got his second, and thus, a compulsory expulsion from the game. Re-arrange this well-known phrase: Tosser Portuguese.

So now Spurs were playing 9 men, such a massive and obvious advantage that… they still couldn’t break the 1-1 deadlock. And time was running out. Then it did run out. Except just before, with possibly the last move of the game, Porro fired the ball into the Liverpool area and Joel Matip slammed the ball brilliantly into his own net. The perfect end to a perfect game.

So many serious questions to be answered:
Should VAR be scrapped?
Did their official ‘apology’ to Klopp and Liverpool afterwards make any fan or player any happier in even the most minimal way?
Why couldn’t Spurs capitalise playing against 9 for so long???
Did Spurs deserve to win?
Does any Spurs fan really give a shit about any of that lot, because we won the game and pocketed another 3 points? AND stayed above Arsenal.

Which made it, quite frankly, the best day of my life.

Happy Sunday

A xxxx

Today is the day we’ve been waiting for since… ages ago. It is the start of the Women’s Super League!!! Deprived of women’s football since… whenever it was, oh yeah, losing the World Cup Final, it’s coming back TODAY! That makes last week’s Spurs match at Arsenal totally irrelevant in my life, this afternoon’s visit by Liverpool, completely unimportant. Ukraine? Now reduced to peripheral consideration only. HS2? Put into the shadows by the return of the soccer gels. Even that total fuckwit of a (now resigned) Speaker of Canada’s Parliament giving a speech praising an old Ukrainian, not realising that the guy had joined the Nazis in the war, even that monumental act of stupidity is of so much less consequence now the pony tails are returning. I can’t wait to see… you know, that one with the long legs, pony tail, plays for… Arsenal? Possibly Manchester United, she’s fab. And… the goalie who didn’t get named shirts for sale… fantastic, and as for my favourite, Leah Something or other, the blond lesbian captain of Arsenal, she’ll be recovered from her surgery and back soon. (Its a credit to Arsenal that they’ve always been sympathetic and inclusive of gays and have always included them in their teams). All starting now! Or later. Possibly tomorrow. Don’t miss it!

Rishi Sunak has been inspired by Mad Max and is declaring all roads in England free of any speed limits. They’re going to be drag-racing (very inclusive) down Oxford Street, screaming past schools at drop-off time at 80mph and possibly, vehicles no longer having to stop at red lights. Like bikes!

Ok, that may be a slight exaggeration. What he actually said was ‘this new 20mph speed limit is wrong’. Thus immediately alienating him, his political party and his election hopes from the Green lobby, the road safety lobby and the lobby of ‘people who like driving so fucking slowly its like walking through water’. And all because he won a by-election that he should never have won because it had become effectively, a referendum about ULEZ. Thus his party think that the driving population must be greater than all the greens and all the others who are actually worried about people being hit by speeding cars and anyone else who paid too much attention at their ‘speed awareness course’ whilst the rest of us were doodling or sleeping. That’s why he’s given a reprieve to petrol and diesel cars for an extra 5 years. And now this!!! He won’t be invited to Greta Thunberg’s next teddy-bears’ tea party, will he? Instead he’ll be going to the Ace Cafe in Neasden to smooth talk all the Harley riders and petrol heads in their Custom Cars.

And I want to include HS2 in the latest series of ‘Rishi’s U-turns’ but I’ve run out of time and, quite frankly, I can’t be bothered. Maybe tomorrow…

Happy Saturday

A xxxx

I like numbers. Especially big ones. Unless they’re written in red ink on my bank statement. Other than that, bigger the better. And today’s scientific breakthrough is a new laser. They’re building it to try and activate protons to make them dance. So they can initiate nuclear fusion to provide us with 2 million years of carbon-free, cost-free electricity at NO RISK, unlike the current ‘fission’ models like at Windscale, Chernobyl…

This laser is ‘powerful’. Think Superman. Then make him the size of Jupiter. The laser produces a pulse of light. ***NUMBER ALERT!!!*** A trillion, trillion times brighter than sunlight on a summer’s day. Not a cloudy day. Possibly in Spain. So if that sunny day has a brightness of ‘1’, this laser’s brightness is 1 followed by 24 zeroes. Definitely need some cool sunglasses for that. To make its pulse, it uses more power than the entire national grid, but it lasts for one trillionth of a second. Not long enough to get an even suntan.

Also, and not as spectacularly numberish, but really wonderful, we’re all going to be travelling by ‘air-taxis’ really soon. They’re built, they’re tested, they’re 1000 times safer than helicopters and they’re vertical take off and landing, so they can pick you from outside your house. If it’s a wide road. With no cars parked.

But this is the stuff of science fiction made real. In the 5th Element Bruce Willis played a taxi driver, but of these kind of things. Flying taxis. And so now we’re aspiring to a dystopian future-world where the traffic chaos, insanity and mayhem can move in 3 dimensions instead of two. And I love that. No traffic lights in the air, nor pedestrians. Nor old men on electric bikes getting in everyone’s way.

They’re basically big versions of drones. Which carry 5 people. Original drones were made so that the Ukrainians could spy on the attacking Russians and so that you could watch women on the 19th floor of a tower block taking a shower. And now they’ve evolved into this. It’s just brilliant. Stockholm are having them first, and if not too many Swedes die in the trials, we’ll get them by 2028.

Other than that, nothing’s happening in the world.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

They sent up a space thingy. Seven years ago. To travel about 2 billion miles out to deep space. And these are proper miles, not those silly ones my electric car uses which are (sometimes) only about 300 yards long. The space thingy would have been travelling at approximately 27,000 miles per hour. That is fairly fast. Sound travels at 761mph. So if you happened to see the space thing coming towards you as you sat on some distant satellite, you quite literally would not hear it coming. Well you would, but about 10 minutes after it went past. And it was going out to meet an asteroid called Bennu . Which is about half a kilometre in diameter. Oh, that’s nice, we’ll meet in space and have a coffee. Must be a Starbucks up there, surely? But no. Asteroids don’t sit still, it’s not in their nature. It’s revolving around some orbit somewhere and in fact in about 20-eighty-something, it might even crash into our planet!! Holy shit. Last time that happened the dinosaurs were made extinct, and that crash wasn’t as big as this one will be.

But it’s not really about that. They wanted to collect as ‘sample’. They sent it a little glass vial with ‘piss in this’ but it didn’t respond. So they sent the thingy. To ‘meet’ it. So let’s just ponder this ‘meeting’ for a moment. Because the asteroid is moving on its orbit, probably about the same speed as our thingy. So you have to work out, seven years ago, where that asteroid will be in seven years time, and arrange for a space vehicle, travelling at 27,000mph, to meet it precisely and exactly, to such a degree that the space pod ‘brushes’ against the asteroid collecting a sample. How hard can that be?

Then there’s the even bigger question of ‘why’. Or even ‘why the fuck would you do that???’ Go all that way to come back with 250grams of rock and dust. They could have come round to me on a Sunday when I’m gardening and taken all they want. I’d have paid them, in fact. But no, they wanted asteroid rock and dust. And who can blame them?

It then had to be ‘slowed down’ as it approached Utah from space at 27,000mph. Otherwise, really, all that work would have been scattered for 100 miles into the porridge of a lot of unhappy Mormons. The parachute worked and it hit the ground at just 11mph, itself totally amazing.

They reckon that Bannu is about 6 billion years old. Before the Earth was even formed. So they want to analyse its composition and learn where it’s been, what’s happened, HOW THE WORLD AND LIFE UPON IT STARTED!!! All from 250 grams of shit that you’d throw away if you found it.

Ok, and also, how it might be destroyed, averted, steered away or put off its course should it come too close in twenty-eighty-whatever.

And if you think that’s impressive, you should have seen Spurs at Arsenal yesterday. That was impressive.

Happy Yom Kippur

A xxxx

Today is the ‘North-London-derby’, a match so unique, so revered, so… special that it warrants more column inches, or even centimetres, of prattle, speculation, hypothesising, naval-gazing and ranting than all the other football matches played in the world, combined!!! It is also the match which, for most Spurs fans, defines the sentiment that ‘we can live with disappointment, it’s the hope that kills’, and is the uncontested benchmark for any football season. Any why is it such a ‘big deal’? Even when, quite often, neither team has any ‘top’ aspirations, both are playing ok, or playing shit, or mid-table, even then, it becomes so much more than the sum of its parts.

There are other ‘rivalries’. Apparently they have one in Glasgow, but it’s driven by religious sectarianism and historical hatred. Ours is just about football. There’s the ‘Manchester derby’ when United go to City with a massive list of their almost incomparable successes from yesteryear and get humiliated and embarrassed by the team of this year. Liverpool have a lop-sided ‘rivalry’ with City-mates Everton, but rivalry? Really???

I’ve been to lots of Spurs Arsenal matches. I still bear the scars from most. And only really remember the good ones. Or the totally horrible ones (3-nil up and lose 5-3!!!!). I was at the Emirates for perhaps the most spectacular one; when total loser and no-hoper David Bentley performed the one single act in his entire Spurs career which entered him into the ‘legends’ by hitting a 40 yard wonderstrike past Almunia to give us the lead. Which soon turned into a 4-1 disadvantage that somehow, amazingly, incredibly, and best of all, undeservedly, ended up 4-4.

And the fixture always fills me with dread. Not with the fear of not slipping down the league table but of the total hell I’ll receive from all the Arsenal fans I know. And loads that I never knew I knew but somehow emerge from the depths at such times. But worst of all is those who are ‘sympathetic’, and then spend 3 hours explaining the wondrous evolution of Arsenal whilst poor Spurs have languished in the manager-turnaround circus leading to extinction. PATRONISING FUCKERS.

Yet with all that has happened before, and knowing the terrible price of unrealistic expectations; I can’t help but be positive about this afternoon. I may even come out from behind the couch. For bits of it anyway. But it’s because today’s match is different. Today, according to every single newspaper, it is Arsenal vs Postecoglou. And I’m happy with that.

GOD HELP MEEEEEE.

A xxxx

People collect all sorts of things. My very old mate has, quite literally, every single Arsenal programme ever printed or scratched onto slate. No idea why you’d want that. You can start a fire with old newspapers. Another mate collects pipes. Smoking ones. Doesn’t use ‘em, just likes ‘em. Books, records, cars, stamps, you can collect anything. And I collect bank accounts. Not necessarily for the aesthetics of fine art or the cuddliness of collecting teddy bears, it’s just that I don’t seem to bother closing them and just open another when needed. You can never have too many. Errrrr, right?

Then catastrophe. An account we’ve had since about 1990 announced they were shutting their current accounts down!!! Noooooooo!!!! Best if I transfer to another bank, OR, as banks now term it: ‘switch!’ Its a standardised process for taking over all regular payments and outgoings, direct debits, everything, it just magically ‘switches’ to the new bank!! That’s just what we need!!! What could possibly go wrong!!!!

Barclays went wrong.

They’re not my ‘main’ bank, but I have an account I use and thought it would be good to incorporate the account that was closing into that. So I called them, having seen online that they’re really into ‘SWITCH!!!’ Great.

Ah, you need the app. Ok, I got the app. There’s ‘switch’… “NOT for joint accounts”, which the other one is. Ah. So, using my new app, I called them. And got through!! To a person!!! Who told me that I need to go to a branch. So I popped in to a nearby branch. To be told that “you can’t ‘switch’ into an existing account, its only for NEW accounts, NOW FUCK OFF AND DON’T BOTHER ME AGAIN!!!!” She didn’t actually say that, but it was implicit with every breath she took. Scary, officious person. (Because I can’t say ‘bitch’)

I called my app-people again who told me she was wrong. I CAN switch to an existing account. Phew. But how? Ahhh, I’ll make you an appointment in a branch. But you have no branches. You’ve shut them all down. Oooh, there’s one, in Hendon, Barclays ‘Local’, you have an appointment made there. Yaaaaay, I’m winnin’.

When they called to confirm the appointment they told me ‘Local’ versions can NOT do a ‘switch’, only big, proper versions. Which, like big, proper dinosaurs, are pretty-much extinct. But there is one!!! In Holborn!!! Fab, make me an appointment. I can’t. Its not on the appointment system. You’ll have to go in. Ok. And ‘yes’ they can switch, and ‘yes’ from a joint account into an existing joint account, and ‘yes’… our ‘man’ (singular) is in on Wednesdays and he’ll call to arrange an appointment.

The old account is shutting on Sept 30th and the ‘switch’ takes 7 days. But heh, no problem. I’m getting an appointment!!!

He emailed on Wednesday. To make an appointment… for a phone chat. Errrr… ok, but time is waiting for no man, not this one, certainly. So he scheduled a call for yesterday, 10.15.

By 10.30 there was no call. 10.45… 11.00…

I went online with Santander, who are our main bank, because, I filled in an online application for a new account, pressed the switch button and…

“Yes sir, here’s your new joint account details and your switch is under way…” Ten minutes total. After 3 weeks of fucking about with Barclays.

At 12.00 I received a call from Barclays. The one from 10.15. “So sorry, accidentally entered it into my diary for TOMORROW!!!, phah!, sorry, how can I help you?” The air was blue. Not Barclays ‘blue’ but vile sweary, screamy, abusive, insulting ‘blue’.

This morning, I received a text reminding me of my phone appointment for the wrong day at the wrong time. I was arrested at Charing Cross for standing in the middle of the Strand shouting “YOU FUCKING TOSSSSSSEEERRRRSSSS!!!!” repeatedly at my phone.

Go to Barclays Bank: IF YOU WANNA FUCKING DIE OF FRUSTRAAATION.

And I add another account to my collection. Win-win.

Happy Friday

A xxxx

I just received an email from Rishi Sunak. Personal one. Addressed to ‘Andrew’. Not just that but ‘Dear Andrew’ because he loves me. All Prime Ministers do. Signed it ‘love Rishi xxxx’.

Ok, it was a form message, but ONLY sent to the most important 66 million people in the country.

And he sent it because he’s taken a new stance on climate change and wanted to tell me to ditch the fucking electric car now, turn the lights back on, stockpile coal, burn petrol as much as possible, hike the central heating and eat polar bears. Because we’re so ahead of the curve on climate control that he’s worried we might actually exceed our reduction targets for 2050 and actually be taking carbon out of the environment. Which the trees won’t like. So he’s changing the date of compulsory electric vehicles from 2030 to 2035, and similarly, we can still get new, gas-burning, highly-emitting, carbon producing home boilers until that date, rather than getting penguin-friendly heat pumps.

All all because he thinks that the average brick-layer’s assistant will struggle to come up with 45 grand for a new van and 25k for the heat pump!

Even for a man who would tomorrow swap his fabulous electric vehicle for a 1970, 6-litre, Dodge Challenger R/T and run it on Nitro-methane, Rishi’s move seems a little ‘anti-zeitgeist’. As the whole world is moving towards lowering carbon with the over-riding importance on ‘NOWWWW!!!!!’, Rishi is chilled about the warming, he’s cool with Greece burning to the ground and the floods everywhere from Europe to last night in the fucking West End!!!!

Sales in superglue will rocket as the eco-warriors prepare to stick themselves to every road, building and non-electric vehicle in the land.

Cynics think Rishi’s change of direction is due to people’s hostility against ULEZ, being symptomatic of a reluctance to adhere to environmental issues if they cost ME money. And therefore, pulling back could be a vote winner. There again, looking at the economy, the NHS waiting lists, the strikes and the general shit, Rishi has a lot more work to do. But apparently, ‘we’ll still be fine for 2050, carbon neutral’. Yeah. Right.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx

Not Russell, for him there is no defence. He is the ‘Everton’ of humanity. The scumbag’s scumbag, whether allegation prove true or not. But I write, with hand on my heart, in defence of men. All men. Because it would appear, we need defending, explaining, forgiving and a host of other things, just because we’re men. And although we’re not all rapists, despite comments to the contrary, you just have to pick up the newspaper (sorry; or swipe up the Mail Online; though really ANY other paper would be better, if not cheaper) to see pages and pages of the growing ‘case’ against Brand. Then how the police are putting 1,000 officers on some form of suspension or ‘suspension light’, limiting their contact with anyone younger than 45 wearing a skirt. Then some actor/director/studio boss has been getting a bit casting couchy with people, and for God’s sake be careful around surgeons, they’ll be inside your underwear before you can say ‘oooooh, Matron!!!!’

But other than all that lot and virtually every other environment where men and women are in any kind of proximity to each other, you’re safe.

So it would appear that if not all, then a high proportion of men are, if not precisely ‘rapists’, then at least something rather unsavoury and unwanted in the sexual assault/harassment/abuse department.

I blame evolution. Which, in a non-directional way, produced ‘woman’ to be alluring to men, so they would attract more mates and be reproductively ‘fitter’ than some rotten old minger with halitosis. And it also selectively produced men to want to reproduce, because that is what evolution is all and only about. Ok, Darwin wrote nothing about casting couches, cars parked on lanes off the Esher bypass, nor the broom cupboard at Nobu. But we (as a species) NEED to reproduce and thus we NEED attraction to the… errr… contradictory… gender… or, obviously, possibly the same gender, but… errrr…

In short, our ‘animal’ side (and that force is BIG, Luke) wants us to be promiscuous, to go out and make loads’a babies. To propagate our genes into the future. The more the merrier.

But then, about 3,000 years ago, such a short time that on an evolutionary line it would barely register a single dot at the end, some bastard came along and introduced things like ‘society’ and ‘acceptable behaviour’ and even ‘marriage’!!! Which kind’a changed things. Essentially, the ‘animal’, man, became ‘civilised’. Except Russell Brand, obviously, Harvey Weinstein, Jimmy Savile, Kevin Spacey… half the police force, all the surgeons, most partners in law firms, accountancy firms, banks and… men. We are innately, biologically, genetically attracted to women. And vice versa (in theory). It takes actual effort not to jump on people to ‘mate’, like real animals do. Obviously more of an effort than Russell is prepared to make. Because he is fucking animal. No insult intended to animals.

However, 3000 years is a long time for mankind. Long enough to ‘socially engineer’ (because it ain’t real ‘evolution’) an understanding of etiquettes and propriety, even with the major setback which was the Romans.

I’m not defending the indefensible, I’m here to bury him. But just as an alternative ‘context’, its not always easy being a man. And a lot, lot harder being a woman.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx