Filthy Rich

I’m not afflicted with wealth envy, because I’m not a Communist.  I do get upset, however, when the rich leverage their wealth to become still richer (as opposed to creating more wealth through productivity), or when people such as the late Senator Harry Reid become wealthy by abuse of their position, or by fraud (like this asshole, this asshole and this tart).

I’m also not envious of people who become rich by pure luck:  lottery winners, or people like the Sultan of Brunei, whose country just happens to be sitting on an ocean of oil and natural gas — and who went and created a $5 billion (with-a-B) collection of cars, supercars, bespoke supercars and so on, as discussed here.  I’m not upset that most of the cars have never been driven, or that they’re falling apart and becoming unrecoverable.  Rich people do stupid shit, and that’s the way of the world.

As is the case with people who spend over $100 million to own apartments in New Yawk fucking City that they’ll never visit.

The difference between them and the idiotic Sultan is that their spending is an investment, whereas the Sultan’s spending is just money thrown away, as befits so much of this kind of thing in the Third World.  The latter is similar to inheriting ten million bucks from Aunt Ethel, spending $1,000 on handmade chocolate bars, and never eating any of them.  That kind of spending is actually symptomatic of a psychological defect — but still, I don’t care.

The point about those real estate buyers is that if the real estate market crashes, and it will, the value of their investment will plummet — and they still won’t care too much, because they have that much money.  And remember the truism:  in five generations (or less), all fortunes, no matter how vast, are dissipated.

Which brings me back to my opening statement:  I really don’t care how much money people have, nor how it’s spent.

What does get up my nose is when governments do the same kind of thing as the Sultan of Brunei does:  only with our money and not their own.

Wait A Minute

While reading The Sun  newspaper (so you don’t have to), I was drawn to this little piece about local additions to various fast-food menus all over the world.

No problems with Canuckistan McDonalds offering poutines, of course, as I think there’s probably a law Up There which mandates it:

Oaaaargh I think I just gained a pound looking at those bad boys.

But it’s the offering from KFC Philippines which got me thinking:

Just run with me here for a moment.  If that hot dog is the usual bland crap pablum as served to kids as canned Vienna sausages, then ugh.  But what if it was a lovely German-style bratwurst or similar, topped with some spicy Senf  (mustard) and wrapped in crunchy KFC fried chicken breast?

I’d order it as my last meal, with some proper (not McDonalds) Canucki poutines.

And yes I know, with all that fat it probably would be my last meal.  But I have a suspicion that it would truly be a taste to die for.

I think I’m going to make one for myself (once again, so y’all don’t have to), just to see how it works out.

Nom nom nom.

Tradition

Sod off, Swampy.  Trying to stop la famille du Toit  from getting together at this time of year would take a company of Marines, and even that might not work.

We do Christmas meals a little differently from most people.  It’s too long a back story to tell now, but basically, we stagger our Christmas meals so that various of the family members can visit with their in-laws, girlfriends’ / boyfriends’ parents on Christmas Day.

So Christmas Day is always devoted to an early-morning present-opening ceremony, followed by a Full English breakfast:

…after which the kids scatter to the four winds.

That was yesterday.

Today is Boxing Day (in Britishland), which is when the family comes back to our place for a proper Christmas dinner (roast beef with Yorkshire pudding):

That will be this evening… and I’m still full from yesterday.

Have mercy.

Expansion Opportunity

As S&W has haughtily turned its back on Texas, we look to our Cousins Across The Pond for future investment in the Lone Star State:

Greggs today warned supply issues were pushing up the cost it pays for food and labour – presenting the risk of future price rises – as it promised sausage rolls are safe despite the UK’s pork crisis…

The Newcastle-based chain is also looking into opening overseas locations for the first time.

For my Murkin Readers who may have forgotten about this fabulous company and its most excellent wares:

From the top:  sausage roll, steak bake, cheese & onion.

And there are more, oh so much more.

[takes moment to wipe up drool]

I know that you folks at Greggs have probably employed vast armies of Bainies and McKinzies to ascertain where your best opportunities lie here in Murka — and if their suggestions don’t include the US, fire them — but I can save you a ton of money simply by suggesting the Dallas-Ft. Worth metroplex.

  • Fourth-largest metro area in the U.S. (7.65 million)
  • One of the fastest-growing metro areas in the U.S.
  • We have a large expat community, including not only Brits and Aussies, but Seffricans as well, for whom sossies and steak pies are comfort foods like few others.
  • The DFW-London air travel route is always full, not just of the aforesaid, but Texans going there for vacations and business purposes.  They will know about Greggs.

Now I know that a bunch of Californians are going to say the same kind of thing about their state — but compare the time and cost in getting a food business operating license (hint:  months and thousands of dollars in CA vs. days and scores of dollars in TX) and we haven’t even talked about the tax benefits (TX: low vs. CA: astronomical) and cost of land/rents (TX: low vs. CA: don’t even ask).  And most Californians eat fucking salads more than pastries anyway, whereas we Texans loves us our fried pies and baked anything.

And by the way, I scored 7/11 on your quiz, and I haven’t been Over There in nearly four years.  If that’s not a Greggs fan, I don’t know what is.

So waddya say, Greggs?