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OLD STUFF


 
BURGER ME 
 
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To add to their workload the Neville St Runners now have the chance to drive around looking for a burger van. The van was stolen from near Rusland Pool and the dashing Insp.Latham is on the case - by all accounts he knows his onions and will try to ketchup with the perps and give them a good grilling.   
The BBC were in touch a few weeks ago, they have seen Morris the wheel trim bloke on the site so they contacted me and said that they were doing a bit about the sad git !!   MORRIS ON TV ! 

Jehovah's witness
survival guide.
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BACKGROUND...The name of a religious cult who get brainwashed by mind control techniques into believing that their interpretation of the Bible is better than anyone else's. They have their hideout on Hart Street.

It was started by some idiot that got this vision of the world coming to an end in 1914. When 1914 came and went, he then managed to pursuade his flock that it would happen in 1942. When 1942 came and went, well let me put it this way... Anyone who would even think about joining this cult is mentally ill to begin with.

They publish some toilet trash called the Watch Tower and are also known as the Watch Tower Society and JWs. In 1933 their leaders conspired with Hitler against the Jews. Several of their top members were thrown in jail for committing fraud, larceny, sexual deviant acts, etc. But somehow the cult manages to go on.

If a member deviates in any way from their way of life all other members are required to scorn them. This is just one of their many mind control techniques.

But the worse thing about JWs is that every year hundreds of children die because these geniuses think that "Thou shalt not eat blood" refers to life saving transfusions instead of becoming a vampire.
Jehovah's Witnesses are the "False Prophets" that God refers to in the Bible. When one comes to your door, just give them a copy of the letter their leaders sent in support of Hitler and tell the bigots to fuck off.
 
HOW DO I SPOT ONE?... They have flat faces from getting doors slammed in their faces. They are a rare breed, they usually travel in groups. They can be found roaming through neighborhoods standing on the doorsteps of homes. They are also people that are fated to die from simple wounds because they are too rubbish to accept blood transfusions.
 
WHAT SHOULD I DO I SEE ONE?... In the event that you see a Jehovah's witness follow these steps. Close the curtains, shut off the tv, and hide. The jehovah will then proceed to ring your door bell, stay calm don't make any sudden movements, this will enrage the witness but they will soon leave, but watch out they still may be watching.

 
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The Ulverston Pub Scene.......A Story of Our Times.
By Wise  old Dave

Like most blokes of my generation, pubs became a central part of ones social life, right from an early age. I remember, as a child growing up in the 1950's, family trips to the pub on Sunday dinner time. My Dad would go in the bar to play cards/darts/ dominoes with his mates. He would sit my Mam in the "Snug" with the rest of the women and send over the odd bottle of Mackeson to keep her quiet. I would be tethered to a drainpipe outside and he would send out a small bottle of Sass and a packet of Smiths Crisps. After what seemed like a lifetime they would come out of the pub, all red faced and wobbly, and, if they remembered to untie me ,we would all trot off home for dinner. Yes...I liked going to the pub!!
In my formative teenage years they ripped the heart and soul out of Barrow, bulldozing 13, yes, 13 pubs in the process. Those that were left standing were shite, selling shite beer like Watneys Red Barrel and other such Keg concoctions. The more adventurous of us sought pastures new and we found...Ulverston...Li'le Pig Day, Hartleys Best, stonking pubs....Yes....Ulverston was for me !! You could also drive home in those days cos you were too pissed to walk!
The years rolled past, and after one particularly sphincter loosening contract in the Far East I decided it was UK only for me from then on, and thus chose to set up my home base in Ulverston. A wise choice, as I found the pubs that suited me, met some wonderful people and made some lifelong friends. My weekends home were a joy to behold and... Yes...all was rosy in the world!
The difference between North and South beer prices then was quite marked. I use to tease my Southern counterparts about what twats they were for paying stupid prices....however.....prices here started to rise quite dramatically, until, there was no difference, in fact, some brands became even more expensive than down South!! Worryingly I also observed that the pubs were getting emptier? My commercial brain kicked in and I could only conclude that this was the work of a Cartel...a price fixing body with no competition..The Ulverston LVA !!
What kind of organisation is this? I wondered. It should be on top of it's game, marketing the town's brilliant pubs to the tourists etc. with good leadership from the top down......... Lets take a closer look !!!!
The Leader is Mr D Mackenzie, Landlord of that fine old coaching Inn, The Sun. A landmark establishment with rich historical overtones ....a flagship for the Town and the rest of it's alehouses. The entrance to the Inn is decorated with notices that say "Nice, friendly atmosphere" (This offence under the Trades Descriptions Act has yet to be prosecuted) The journey from the door to the bar is quite arduous, experienced fell walkers can manage it, as your feet stick to the floorcovering, loosely described as a carpet. Once at the bar you will notice a silver haired gentleman, sat on a barstool....mine host...dishing out a warm welcome, and bonhomie,  to all and sundry, inviting you to partake of his fine selection of well kept ales at reasonable tourist rates. Drinking in the atmosphere, and, ignoring that strange odour of stale piss and beer, do not be surprised if you think you have landed on the film set of The Star Wars Bar as you assimilate the local "characters". There is plenty of Space Age machinery with flashing lights and bells that keep the regulars mesmerised, the dodgy TV and the curious splash like stains on the threadbare pool table that could be the remains of some once faithless alien romantic encounter. If you are lucky enough to land there on a weekend evening you will discover the downstairs "Nite Spot" This masquerades as a terrorist training camp, a school of excellence for substance use and abuse and general thuggery, populated by young children, dancing with their feet rooted to the floor. The local Bobbies recognise this facility as a useful social resource for young people as it keeps them off the streets, and hey, what the eye doesn't see....wink wink...immunity from prosecution is his reward. By the way, the two knuckle scraping gentlemen stood at the door of this facility have no social functionality whatsoever...bless 'em!
The standards of the organisation are therefore set by the leadership. I remember the landlords all rubbing their hands as the smoking ban drew closer, secure in the knowledge that their nice clean, smoke free pubs would attract more of the "right" clientele and the old "dinosaurs" can go where dinosaurs go.
One year on nearly, look at the moaning groaning mass of you now. You are all 30% down, minimum, in your takings, a lot of you are now opening shorter hours, and a lot of you, and your establishments are going to be casualties. A betrayal of your own profession and a shame on you all ( with one or two notable exceptions)
What's the point? you might say of all this drivel...well...pub culture has played a significant and enriching part of my social life, and many like me. I am sad and disheartened at the way pubs are going/gone and that my lifetimes culture a distant memory...Booths now sell the finest beers in the world at a Tenner a gallon.....what attraction is left in going to a pub??
I would say to all Landlords'ladies, abandon this misbegotten organisation, go to individual competition. Start thinking about the most important person in your commercial life...THE CUSTOMER.... think what YOU could do to attract this VIP back into your pub, and, once there, keep him there. The answers are simple....but have you got the bollocks to implement the solution, or would you take the traditional LVA stance.....problem? "put the prices up, that'll increase the margin!....really? "use us or lose us" Oh yeah?
I'm afraid, that after a lifetime, I would be prepared to LOSE YOU!! Sad innit !!
Signed
The Bard's Fan Club (Ulverston Branch)

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Not really the best start for Tesco.
 
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This member of Tesco staff decided to pop out for a fag on Friday night then return to work dealing with the public stinking of fag smoke. 
This is really not the done thing when working with food and having to deal with the public. 
 
 
 
BROGDEN STREET
Still a thugs playground I see. In the old days the cops were all dressed in black so as you couldn't see them in the dark. Now they're in jackets you can see a mile off. Copper on telly last night said that CCTV does not deter crims because it is not sufficient evidence (except for motorists) and that we need good old fashioned "coppering" but now, because of cameras they don't know how to do it.
He said they're throwing a ring of steel round the country to catch road tax and Insurance evaders...wow! that'll make a huge difference to my life, like fuck, while the bastards who really make lives a misery have a free hand...It's all wrong, all upside down I tell you!
 

 
 The Hoad Monument, Ulverston’s penis.   
 
        So, the news that the Hoad monument is unsafe for visitors and is likely to fall down was greeted with the usual apathy that defines Ulverstonians, these days. The monument to one of Ulverston’s famous sons seems to be being destroyed by the town’s failure to understand its past in addition to the sheer uselessness of its elected officials.  John Barrow is actually a genuine hero and a fine example of what can be achieved from humble beginnings if one puts one’s mind to doing something with one’s life. In short, his life represents a triumph of the will over origin, everything missing from today’s residents. He even has his own page on wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sir_John_Barrow%2C_1st_Baronet
    Anyone with an analytical brain cell will regard his life achievements as an astonishing example of social mobility made possible in an aristocratic age where such things were not supposed to be. Well, certainly not as far as our so-called meritocratic age would see it. However, the modern notion of meritocracy itself needs examining, it would appear that with the election of such Nobs as Boris Johnson and the existence of 14 old-Etonians in the Shadow Cabinet, maybe the aristocracy is making a comeback………………  However, I am discussing the Hoad Monument, not Sir John Barrow. In fact, I don’t think the monument represents his genius in any way at all. It does not represent excellence at all. If anything, it reflects the attitudes of Ulverstonians from the late 1840’s and its present decline also represents Ulverstonians, not excellence. It is undoubtedly the major symbol of Ulverston. This fake lighthouse is visible from the Lower Lakes Fells, the West Lancashire coast, who knows, maybe even from space if NASA, the Russians or the Chinese could be bothered to point a camera at it.  Herein lies my point – that no-one gives a fuck about it, do they!?    The notion of a fake lighthouse stuck on a hill, two miles from the sea is actually very funny and exactly the sort of humour that should be encouraged to mediate against the effects of our curmudgeonly, ungenerous and lazy age. The Hoad Monument has been standing there since 1850; hit by lightening, hosting numerous species of flora and fauna and neglected for years – a symbol of Ulverstonian apathy.  It remains a symbol of what the early Victorians regarded as a suitable monument to significant achievement in a lifetime. Maybe it is this Victorian representation itself that Ulverstonians find so hard to get excited about? I mean, to our Freud-polluted psyches, the monument represents an old man’s penis, uncertain in its potency, suspended in a post-modern and alienated no-where, waiting for the apocalypse. Is this Ulverston?    But how would excellence be best represented in a provincial town at the dawn of the twenty-first century? Ignoring the imagination of those that built the edifice, surely something representing a sail, a map, the admiralty in the time of press ganged sailors, even a ship would describe Sir John’s journey better. No, we have a penis. Ulverston’s lighthouse is a guide, a nod to the notion of treacherous shipping conditions, not the shining beacon of excellence to the pre-information, early industrial age. What were those good citizens of the late 1840’s on? Those who paid into the fund to have it built, was the laudanum really stronger than today’s skank? Not a question that can be answered easily here.    There are other representations of our society’s achievement nearby, clearly visible from the top of Hoad Hill. I don’t mean Glaxo, I don’t mean the abandoned mines on Birkrigg, I mean those wind turbines visible to the north. However, those brutalist ghosts are merely post-modernist penises with wings. They represent the worst kind of minimalist mediocrity and tell us all we need to know about those who not only designed them but also allowed them to be positioned there. Small minds in a small place bullied into an experimental landscape that would not be tolerated by more sophisticated minds. Painting them orange would improve them no end. Pulling them down, whilst being aesthetically enjoyable for an afternoon, is an opportunity for ornamentation wasted. Let’s just finish up quickly. The Hoad Monument is falling apart, despite this, it remains the most visible symbol of Ulverston’s place in the world. That place in the world is small, pathetic and now, judging by the reaction of its citizens, apathetic.     Ulverston’s most visible symbol is inappropriate to the 19th, 20th or even 21st century. It looks back rather than looking forward. The Lottery Fund has been milked and money is available to ‘repair’ this edifice to collective provincial psychoses.  Knock the fucker down and replace it with a series of entertaining wind turbines in the shape of the Lancaster bombers painted yellow and orange. Surely this is more representative of the humour, honesty and vivid unreality that Ulverston remains and deserves to be recognised for.    
 

 
In case you dont know Jamshyd (call me James) Hamezeian he is now a councillor for Ormsgill Ward in Barrow. His false allegations once got a 70 year old man arrested (syd).
Remember the fiasco of the low water level at Ormsgill reservoir?  There was Hamezeian with some of his supporters demanding the council spend £100,000 to pay the Utility company to pump water into the reservoir and restore the water level and he managed to get his mug in the paper for several weeks. The experts told Hamezeian that the winter rains would fill up the reservoir - which happened, of course. BUT, in his election pamphlet, Hamezeian claims this to be one of his 'successes'!  (Even Cornwallis of the Evening Mail found this too much to stomach and made a comment about it!)
 
Also remember the big Threat To The Maternity Unit scare orchestrated by the Evening Mail and exploited by Hamezeian who, again, featured heavily in the that paper.  And this despite the deputy leader of the local Labour Party, councillor Dave Pidduck, informing a full council meeting (at which Hamezeian was present but only as a member of the public) that there was absolutely no threat whatsoever to the Maternity Unit at FGH. So Hamezeian knew this yet he continued to scare pregnant women in this area.
 
And what was all this campaigning about?  He lost his seat on the council in May 2003 and Morris Kerr wrote a letter to the Mail in which he (Kerr) stated it was his own fault - Hamezeian had been prominent in the local anti-war campaign (because he'd get his face in the paper) when, as a local councillor, he should have concentrated on local matters.  Obviously, Hamezeian took this advice to heart and, though he was chairman of the local anti-war group, he stopped attending the meetings.  He obviously wanted to keep a low profile regarding the anti-war movement to prevent damage to his next attempt to get elected again but he just could not bring himself to give up the chairmanship of the peace group.  And THAT is what caused all the problems for Barrow Peace Coalition and, ultimately, for Syd (who had been the Treasurer of the group)
"Why did you wait for FIFTEEN MONTHS before asking questions about where the funds of Barrow Peace Coalition had gone and what were you and your supporters doing during this period of time that did not necessitate raising any question regarding funds?"
 
"Why did you claim the funds were £190 when this was an untrue figure?" 
 
"Why do you claim to have written to Ulverston Peace Group and to Stop the War in London (about these funds) when both these organisations state they have never received any letters from you?"
 
"Why did you get your supporters to lie and help you obtain money from two pensioners on the pretext of being a functioning peace group when you and your supporters have been silent on peace issues for the past three years?"
 
"Since being granted the 'return' of £220 by District Judge Wheeler at Lancaster County Court in May 2006, how have you and your supporters used this money in the cause of peace since that time?"
 
"Why do you and your supporters (list provided by yourself) deny you made an accusation of theft against Syd - and caused this innocent man to be arrested, detained, photographed, finger and palm printed and DNA sampled - when Detective Chief Inspector Churchman and Area Commander Chief Superintendent Collins, senior officers of  Cumbria Constabulary, catagorically state that YOU made a complaint of theft?"
 
"Are you and members of your Socialist Peoples Party of Barrow declaring that certain members of Cumbria Constabulary are liars when they state YOU made the accusation of theft against Syd, who was an innocent man?"
 
We were never told which officer of Cumbria Constabulary first received Hamezeian's false allegation of theft against Syd. It was, in fact, Inspector Bob Qazi. Inspector Qazi instructed two detectives, one of whom was DS Marshall, to visit the home of Hamezeian (How cosy). Consider this - Hamezeian had been a local councillor and had established contacts with the local police ( Yes, how cosy). Consider also that Hamezeian's two daughters are serving officers in the local force ( Very cosy). Consider that DS Marshall need not have arrested Syd but chose to do so. Consider that DS Marshall had to release Syd because it was obvious that Syd was innocent of any wrongdoing. And consider this......
Once the court hearings were over, and once the police 'investigations' were concluded, it came about that a special position was created at the local Multicultural Centre on a salary reported to be some £20,000 per year and to which Hamezeian was appointed following interview. And, finally, consider this...
The Chairman of the Committee of the Multicultural Centre is none other than Inspector Bob Qazi (Very, very cosy!)

Now, I'm not suggesting for one moment that Inspector Bob Qazi is a corrupt and racially prejudiced officer who abused his position of authority to maliciously intimidate a 70 year old innocent British pensioner who had led a blameless life to do a favour for a fellow Iranian and then used his influence to provide Hamezeian with a comfortable and well-paid job for, as everyone is aware, this sort of thing just does not happen in Britain !

Please help us with this it must be Stopped!!

RESULT !!

Last week we had a bit on the site that mentioned a horse that was been beaten by some young lads down the canal, yesterday it got a mention in the paper and today i got an email from the assistant head at Ulverston Vic. They have been given names and the names will be passed on to the Police. The school has dealt with this very well i recon and they deserve credit for it, here is the email i got from the school.

Dear Ulverston Rant
I am Assistant Headteacher at Ulverston Victoria High School. Can I firstly
thank you for your e mail regarding the incident on the 18th May. It saddened
and horrified me that anyone could do such a thing to another living creature. I
have read your email out in assembly this week and our students and staff are
equally shocked. I had hoped that this act of violence had not been carried out
by any of our students, unfortunately a few names have been passed onto me. I
have given these names to our police liaison officer who will be investigating
further. The majority of our students, as you indicate, are great young people
who make me very proud to be a senior teacher at this school. We have a very
good relationship with our local community and I am encouraged that you felt
able to inform us of this incident. I hope my actions show that we have taken
this incident very seriously and are actively doing something about it.

Please do not hestiate to contact me should you have any further information
about this incident or have concerns in the future.

Kind regrads,


Wendy Allen
Assistant Headteacher
 

SAVING THE PLANET.

Here in me house in ulverston I read the Daily mail and the mirror newspapers and the Evening Mail daily which is now famous for its regular and depressing front page statistical listings. At weekends I get the Sunday Times.....well my mum does, I’ve tried other newspapers, and occasionally have a change to the Guardian or the Telegraph usally the pub gets them in ! 
As much as I enjoy reading them I often end up feeling beaten up every day in these journals with the proposition that I might be some kind of monster because I don’t always unplug my phone charger at night and I still ride a motorbike a few hundred miles every year. As a penitent celebrity who needs newspapers desperately to help me see what people(the evening mail) are saying about me, I have to agree that in both respects I am a monster and I will try to change. If anyone catches me in the act of doing either of these evil things you have my permission to lynch me in public and glue my phone charger to the front of my bike, or whatever else makes you feel you are in control of my various emissions.
I wonder what the several hundred pounds of newsprint that I chuck away every year is doing to the environment? I recycle newsprint and magazines. As I do so I wait for the hypothetical Independent whistle-blowing front-page telling me I’m wasting my time – the headline I expect to read one day soon might say: “Most newsprint presented for recycling is superfluous to requirements and is shredded for landfill”. I have a hunch such a statistic would not be printed.
I console myself briefly as I can write my feelings on "the rant" as this is a medium that requires no newsprint. Then of course the crash comes: The amount of electricity I use, and that you must use to read what I write, is disproportionate to the value of what I write. Much like most of what is written every day in newsprint, we wade through searching for that nugget that will give us hope for our children’s future !
And today hope is all we have. Because of course there is no way we can change fast enough to make ourselves immune from nightmares. In the last ten short years we have all equipped our homes with appliances that must be left on standby otherwise they need their clocks to be reset. We all have at least three mobile phone chargers running 24/7. We heat our homes when we are asleep because we aren’t certain when in the night we will wake up screaming in fear of the future and want to sit in the kitchen drinking Chamomile tea that we have carefully heated using only as much water as is strictly necessary. We are confused. It is also tricky to work out whether we waste more environmental resources by buying a new ‘energy saving’ car or bike or by keeping our old one and reducing the amount we drive it. It’s not what we do, but what we are seen to do that counts these days.
Today I can apparently make a change, and if I don’t it is my fault and I will be accountable, culpable. So for a modern webmaster such as I, keen to show you all my new stuff on the site to you because I think it will both confront this problem and give you hope, does it make more sense never to be seen in public at all (bearing in mind that everything I do requires the use of huge amounts of energy)
After another weekend of over-stuffed newspapers read in under-stuffed armchairs in under-heated, poorly lit rooms of my over-sized house, after I have recycled my newspapers, checked the house for unnecessary lights left on , I wonder how any of us can properly assess the situation in which we find ourselves, can we achieve a sense of real balance? 
I know I’m changing the subject slightly here, but when Saddam scuttered out of Kuwait in 1991, setting light to oil wells, and the sky darkened, this single childish action irreversibly raised the temperature of the entire planet and generated enough toxins to cause innumerable cases of cancer and other medical problems in the region and beyond.
Should we be looking at the big things, or the little things? Because the worst thing the West could do to its conscientious populace - ready as they are to go into self-deprived entombment under the control of some media baron playing God – is to continue to drive them into a sense of impotent shame about the way they live.