Ignorance Is Bliss

We'd been back from the tin hut by the sea for a few days but had relatively little to moan about - apart from the usual Asda wa**ers  keeping me awake in the night, and yes Bernard I finally gave in and tried earplugs but I couldn't hear anything, so had to get rid of them - the main reason for the lack of grumpiness is that I've had lots of work to do in rather a hurry, and so was cocooned in my own little bubble, totally cut off from the outside ... during this glorious weather [so I heard] boo hoo, sob.

Of course I emerged from behind my magnifying lamp eventually [Saturday] and truly wished I hadn't, it was much nicer being oblivious to Langley Mill's youff-dom.

First of all we'd returned from a family visit and we were reading a notice - about footpaths 53 and Pottery Lane - that had been attached to Mr HH's fence, but some cretin decided it needed pulling off. I waited while my grumpy old man attempted to reattach it.

During this I heard one of those mini-motorbike whatstits whizzing along Pottery Lane, and then I watched in amazement as this head went backwards and forwards - at speed - down the ramp onto Bridge Street, finally revealing itself as the tw*t on the bike. Me being me and not at all being able to keep my mouth shut, I shouted ... 'this is a footpath, not a motorbike route'.

This surly teenager totally ignored my remonstration and stopped just short of running into me. I then said ... 'I suppose you expect me to move for you' ... reply 'grunt' ... 'well, I'm not'. He had actually got a voice other than the customary teenage grunt, as he said he'd go in front of me... which he did, almost running my GOM over - while he was still farting about with that bloody notice. The youff then carried on a third of the way down Bridge Street and up an entry ... I've no idea who he is.

Having now been let loose from my workspace I decided to reacquaint myself with 'bigjobs' my super computer, this meant being in the spare room for an hour or two, tut, what a mistake. If I were anywhere else I wouldn't be able to witness more twa**ing youffs trying to break things on HH land. I may start locking myself away in a cupboard somewhere.

Much later, after examining the contents - or lack of - in my fridge, freezer and cupboards, I announced to grumpy that I was off to - begrudgingly - spend some money at that biggish corner shop just over the way. He came with me to carry my debit card.

Just before we got to our peasants ramp up to Asda we passed four girls, all about twelve or thirteen years old, pleasant and giggly, but I could have knocked their heads together ... or glared at my GOM for doing it [we've all inherited this 'glare' from my mother - it's horrible].

It ... being walk on the road to go around them as they steadfastly stuck to walking four abreast ... not me, oh no, I've finally realised who the tw*ts are, and it's us for moving out of their way, time and time again, this time I was prepared to clash elbows and anything else that got in my way as I walked along the edge of the kerb [yes I know, I'm still making way for them].

This is NOT purely a Langley Mill phenomenon as it is much discussed amongst us - tin hut dwellers - at Winthorpe [Skeggy]. We have compared notes on numerous occasions about how we automatically shift out of the way.

I was brought up to ALWAYS move for anyone older than myself - which at my age is getting increasingly more difficult - this included giving up my seat on a bus as well as moving to one side while walking along a street. To be honest I've probably forgotten how old I am when I get out of the way, but not any more!

In future, if anyone younger than me expects me to move to one side for them, they're in for a shock, cos I'm not moving - hmm, this is all supposing I remember [being my age means I'm forgetful - apparently]. In fact, just to make sure I get in someone's way, I'm off out right now to stand in the middle of a pavement somewhere ...

R.I.P. Broken Britain...

You went soft on discipline!...

You went soft on immigration!...

You went soft on crime...

Parents were told - 'No you can't smack the kids'...

Teachers were prevented from chastising kids in schools...

The police couldn't clip a troublemaker round the ear...

Kids had rights blah blah blah...

Well done Britain...

You shall reap what you sow...

We have lost a whole generation!!

Not my own words, but definitely my sentiments - and it saved me writing it myself - this is doing the rounds on Facebook and I copied and pasted as requested - kudos to the originator/author for saying what we all think.

The only thing is ... I actually think we've lost two generations because the parents of the yobs are no better ...

 

Chavsda

I think I'm being fair in saying that Langley Mill has long been regarded as a chav town, you only have to look at the recreation ground to see evidence of chavviness ... bottles, cans, rubbish strewn about.

Well I'm sad to say that our local Asda as been nicknamed Chavsda because of the local chav element hanging about at the Bridge Street entrance to the store. We live at the top of the street and can hear them shouting from here. Then there's the rubbish. To be fair Chavsda staff do clean it up and twice I've seen them picking litter amongst the greenery that has been planted on Bridge Street.

This morning, two of these litter pickers were busy doing their jobs when one of them looked up to 'slurry corner' and was heard to say 'That i'nt ours surely' whereupon they did an about turn back down to Asda.

They were probably right, it isn't actually Chavsda's bit, but it is mostly their rubbish that has been tossed there by youths and youthesses on their way to wherever they go upon getting bored with hanging about in the cold - it is then churned up by Heanor Haulage bringing in lots of flatbeds with railway tracks on concrete sleepers [I counted 5 arriving one day last week for storage then lost interest] - so cold that one particular chav was overheard to say that he needed a p**s then proudly announced that he'd had one up the back of the car he'd just passed.

I'm not ashamed to say that during the ten minutes or so of this activity, we didn't make any attempt to see what they were up to, we had enough trouble with louts when the bridge was here, they threw missiles [stones, eggs] at our windows and ourselves when we went out to investigate.

And on a different note ... I was on the street with my camera and tripod on the 8th of January, I had been taking photos of Jupiter and the moon and waiting for the International Space Station to pass over. A couple came up the street from Chavsda and he told her that there was someone with a camera. She was harping on about it all the rest of the way up the street and slurry corner about why I'd got a camera pointed at her and calling me a pervert. Unless she was standing on the moon [doubtful], my camera simply wasn't pointed at her.

Isn't it sad when I can't stand outside my own house pursuing one of my hobbies, it won't happen again, I daren't do it, I only go on the back yard now with my camera, I'll wait until we go to the caravan where all my neighbours are used to seeing me with my camera and telescope ...

Langley Mill Morons

Three t**ts have just this minute 'egged' my neighbours house and windows again. It looks by the evidence they've thrown away that they'd been to Farmfoods. Of course the hosepipe and outside tap is frozen solid so my neighbour can't clean the eggs off as they're too high to reach.

Why don't people care what their precious little sh**s are doing? Oh yes of course - as long as they're out of their way, they don't care where they are or what they're doing!!

I suppose this means that we'll be lying awake at night again waiting for worse to happen as they always start off small. Well don't forget you stupid morons, the police said they'd go straight to your houses if we have any more trouble, and if it's not you doing it this time then you'd better tell your friends to stop it as you'll get the blame.

Hurry up and demolish the bridge extension Asda because as I've said before, the bridge steps is where the cowardly t**ts stand to throw their missiles - because we can't see who they are ...