Category: Nannies

Lockdown Blues

Good Stuff, Gummint, Nannies

Over a month ago I went to Trader Joe’s to buy a couple of things, but was told to go to the back of the (100-yard) queue because the store was only allowing a dozen or so customers at a time to go in.  The outside temperature that day was August-In-Dallas (i.e. there were lizards frying gently on the sidewalks), so I said (quite loudly) to the officious little asshole at the door:  “This is total and utter bullshit, and you guys are acting like hysterical children.  I don’t need your stupid products that much,” and walked away.

A couple of people cheered and gave me the thumbs-up — and a few even nodded and walked away themselves.  (Sometimes, it only takes one, and — this may come as a surprise to many — I’ve often been that one, in my lifetime.)

It’s bad enough when Nanny Government can’t stop telling you what to do:  stay out of here, only six people allowed to be together there, family reunions or events are banned, can’t shop here but there is okay, this work is allowed but that isn’t and so on, but don’t forget to wear your face-condom everywhere or else you’ll be fined / arrested / publicly scolded / tossed out.

When stores start fucking with people’s lives, however, it’s probably too much.  At least, it was too much for this wonderful woman, who after having been bullied by everyone in Government or a uniform for months, decided that being told to follow in-store one-way signs was a Nanny Too Far, and showed her displeasure:

Shopper becomes furious after Co-op staff in Lingfield, Surrey, ask her to observe social distancing rules and starts throwing items and knocking bottles of wine off the shelves. The video that was captured in CCTV shows the woman screaming at the shop’s workers, after being asked to use the one-way system.

And just to put this in perspective, here are a few pics of Lingfield:

   

Not exactly the kind of place where one might find agitators and troublemakers, is it?

If you follow no other link today, this would be the one.

Bravo, Madame.

“Sin” Taxes

Gummint, Nannies

It is a truism that as any government becomes larger and larger, its reach extends yet deeper and deeper into our private lives, and it becomes greedier and greedier for money to feed its bloated bulk, the only kind of creativity it produces is finding novel ways to tax us.

The idea, therefore, of a bloated, obscenely-large government lecturing us about the “sins” of obesity would be savagely ironic — not that any government would ever acknowledge that, being by definition bereft of a sense of humor.

So Gummint imposes a “sin” tax on us, for our own good.  Liquor and tobacco were the earliest manifestations of this theft, and as society becomes more and more prosperous, it also becomes less and less fearful of starvation — and now, of course, “obesity” is the latest “danger” we need to be protected from — and as something becomes more expensive, people will always use less and less of it, what better than to make it expensive through taxation, thus feeding government coffers while “protecting” us.

Listen, as a Fat Bastard myself, I know that fatties (I’m sorry, “heavy people”) have health issues and are sometimes exposed to deadly consequences for their obesity.

So what?

Well, of course, if someone else is paying for the consequences of your “gluttony” and overindulgence — in this case, that would be taxpayers, through a nationalized health service —  then the rationale for “sin” taxes is an easy one.

And right on cue, a fat-ass at the head of a fat-ass government is planning to shaft everybody.

‘Sin tax’ on sugary fizzy drinks could be extended to chocolates with adverts for sugary treats banned and health warnings slapped on alcohol bottles in anti-obesity plans being considered by Boris Johnson

And like Saul on the road to Damascus:

It came as Mr Johnson today launched the Government’s new anti-obesity drive., admitting he was ‘too fat’ when he was hospitalised with coronavirus.  He said that since his recovery from the deadly illness he has focused on getting fitter by going on morning runs.

Of course, this is being done because Gummint really, really cares about our health:

The Prime Minister’s comments came as Health Secretary Matt Hancock said if overweight adults were to lose five pounds in weight it could save the NHS £100 million.

Or it could not.  In fact, that’s an utterly bullshit statistic, and I would love to see how this incompetent prick came up with the number.  (Five pounds’ loss in someone who weighs, say, three hundred pounds, achieves precisely fuck all — and lest we forget, it’s the 300-lb+ category of fatties which has the highest mortality rate.)

As much as I love visiting the place, I am so glad I don’t live in Britishland.  Finally, as all arguments can be bolstered and/or improved by pitchurs, here’s something to ponder.  If being fat is so damn bad, why is this trend growing?

Anyway, I think everyone’s got the point by now.  It’s time for my morning breakfast of buttered Belgian waffles with syrup, followed by a refreshing pint or so of gin.

Someone else can live an austere life of self-denial and good health.  I’d rather enjoy mine, as David Hockney suggests.

More Busybodies

Health, Nannies

Oh NOES we’re not going to meet our gooooooooooaaaaaaaallll!

Not a single country is on course to meet targets to reverse spiralling obesity rates by 2025, a damning report has revealed.
Countries are ‘worryingly off-track’ to meet World Health Organization targets agreed to by member states, according to the World Obesity Federation (WOF).
Research suggests there is a less than a 10 per cent chance the world will meet targets within five years, while the UK and US have zero chance.
Around 200 countries had pledged to significantly cut their obesity levels by making sure levels didn’t rise any more from 2010.

Wait just a fucking minute.  “World Obesity Federation”?  When the hell did this quango come into being, how  is it funded, and how much do its members get paid?

I am so sick of self-important fuckwits telling me how to live my life:  what to eat and drink, how to spend my money, when I can do this or that, what cars should look like, how much water toilets may use when flushed, where I can and can’t shoot my guns, what light bulbs I can and can’t use, et cetera, et cetera, et  fucking cetera.

The world is getting fatter because people are no longer two meals away from starvation (which was the case for pretty much most of human existence until about 1970), and our metabolisms haven’t adjusted — because this stuff takes a lot longer than a few years, and it does not respond to scolding, shaming and guilt-making.

“Oh but that’s unhealthy and if you don’t do what we tell you, you’re gonna diiieeee!” comes the perpetual whine of Busybodies International (the parent company of the World Obesity Federation, also of the Federal Highway Administration, the Food & Drug Administration, et al.)

Well, to use a Texas expression:  fuck all y’all.

It’s a little early to have another pint of gin, but it’s never too early for one of of these:

Back in a bit.

Asking For It

Feminazis, Modernism, Nannies

Here we go again:

A Belgian sports journalist has sparked fury after making a crude comment about a young reporter’s top on Twitter. Sven Spoormakers posted a picture of Belén Mendiguren interviewing cyclists during a race in Argentina, adding the caption: ‘Is it cold in Argentina?’.
The comment prompted a backlash from fellow journalists who took aim at the Belgian for ‘objectifying’ the young reporter. Spoormakers, a former junior cycling champion, initially defended his comment but later backed down and admitted it was ‘offensive to a lot of people’.

Here’s a pic of the “reporter” in question:

I remember our band’s favorite question when faced with an outfit like this:  “Is it cold, or are you just pleased to see me?”

A more pertinent question would be this:  “Why did you put that top on this morning?”  And don’t give me that “It’s so hot!”  bullshit;  she wore it to attract the attention of the men she wanted to interview, and any other reason is a fucking lie.

Sorry, love;  if the goods aren’t to be looked at, don’t put them in the window.  And as for all the other scolds:  FOAD, and take your “fury” with you.