nunoncastors

The government, I understand, would like it if everyone used public transport to go everywhere, all the time, always. Naturally this would result in our living in a non-denominational utopia where parity of thought and deed prevails and everyone hugs constantly to reassure each other about how lovely and inclusive things are.

It’s a noble ideal.

Sadly, it’s a noble ideal that will remain forever thus, an idea. And this is because public transport in this country is fucking rubbish. Genuinely, dispiritingly, dire. The act of paying for a bus ticket really is something to crush the spirit, it is beyond awful.

Take this morning for example. I needed to travel a whopping eight miles in order to arrive at work for eight, suited and booted, dressed to impress or, at the least, not disappoint.

Ordinarily I would drive - well, no, ordinarily I would cycle but a suit in a bag tends to crease and this morning needed to be a crumple-free zone – but regrettably my car is having its brakes replaced. My housemate, the swine, turns out to be too lazy to get out of bed two hours early in order to do the decent thing and massively inconveniencing himself. Such is life. Sadly, this left public transport as the only option.

I was not disappointed.

My journey to work is not a particularly onerous one – just over eight miles door-to-door – and on a usual day I would set off on Sir Wheels-a-lot (my bicycle) at around quarter to seven. This usually ensures that I arrive at the office by around half-past and have plenty of time left for breakfast and a shower. It’s a system that works. Well, unless Guy-who-lives-in-the-shower gets there first. I rarely spend more than around forty five minutes travelling and ten minutes faffing about. Driving, as you’d expect, can take anywhere between fifteen minutes and forty-five depending on the traffic.

This morning however. This. Fucking. Morning. It took me an hour and a half. And for this privilege I paid nearly three pounds (return, oh god I bought a return) and got to sit on a dirty seat, in a dirty bus, with some weird people, an unbelievably rude driver and no legroom whatsoever. I left the house at the exact same time that I left yesterday, on my bike, and walked into the office an hour and a half later.

So, somehow, it took as long pre-rush-hour as it would’ve if I’d walked. I can only consider with dread how long it’s going to take me to get home come five o’clock. This, apparently, is public transport. It’s no wonder people opt to drive.

As a consequence of this, we’re all going to continue to hate and judge indiscriminately while kicking puppies and destroying the earth. Well done NCT.

Friday night was marred by a conflict that escalated exponentially until it consumed the planet. The first domino was tipped when Stephen crossed the sea of Timor and launched an all out assault on my colonies in Australasia. Despite his lightening assault, little progress was made as the Australians dug in and held magnificently. Having been bloodied and thrown back by a determined resistance, he turned his attention to central and northern America, taking the Westen United States before Helen knew what was happening and being thwarted in Venezuela by Duncan’s little yellow men.

Enraged by these assaults, fighting soon broke out between their territories in Europe and the Middle-East. Eventually this dragged in the African nations in a series of bitter reprisals because, by this point in the game, everyone was pretty pissed and shouty.

For those of you not aware of the existence of Drinking RISK, please, permit me to explain.

Firstly, you will require a copy of the popular board game RISK (if you’re not familiar with it, I recommend you remedy this situation immediately) some booze (cheap wine, vodka and beer) and sufficient shot glasses to furnish the participants with one each.

Now, proceed to play RISK in accordance with the normal rules of the game but make the following additions to your rulebook.

1. Upon losing control of a country the defeated player must down a shot.
2. Upon being thrown out of a continent, your last troops in Australasia being defeated for example, the ejected player must drink a double shot.
3. “Stephen’s rule.” Upon losing your grip upon a continent, an incursion into South America depriving your of your two bonus men for example, the defeated player must drink a shot for their lost territory and a more potent shot for the loss of the continent.

N.B. As a rule, we’ve been using wine for the normal shots as this ensures that people don’t pass out or throw up too early on, while vodka has been the beverage of choice for a lost continent as the general consensus is that this serves people right.

Do not open a second front in Russia.

Yes, I know it’s a strong title to start with but fuck me, I’ve never read such bollocks in all my life.

Lighter sentences proposed for thieves

A thief who targets a vulnerable victim could escape a jail term under sentencing guidelines proposed today.

The normal starting point for punishing a theft from a vulnerable person - such as the elderly - should be 18 weeks’ imprisonment, the Sentencing Guidelines Council (SGC) said.

But the body, which advises the courts on sentences, said that where there are mitigating circumstances, a community order could be imposed.

Mitigation could include criminals who stole to feed a drugs, alcohol or gambling addiction, or who were “motivated by desperation or need”, the council said.

The Sentencing Advisory Panel, which advises the SGC, said: “The most likely predicted outcome is that there will be more offenders than at present given a fine or a discharge, and fewer given either a community order or a custodial sentence.”

Higher sentences could be handed out if items stolen are worth more than £2,000 or are of high sentimental value, the guidelines said.

Even though the maximum penalty allowed under law for “theft from the person” is seven years’ imprisonment, the SGC proposed a maximum of three years in cases that involved force or intimidation against a vulnerable victim.

Thieves who steal from shops could escape a prison term even if they use force that results in minor injuries to a victim, or if they use intimidation, said the council.

The starting point for a punishment in such cases should be six weeks in jail but could reduce to a high level community order if there are mitigating circumstances.

Those who shop-lift from small, independent traders should get stiffer sentences, the draft guidelines said.

In all the offences considered, mitigation could include criminals who stole to feed a drugs, alcohol or gambling addiction, or who were “motivated by desperation or need”, said the council.

The SGC, an official body chaired by the most senior judge in England and Wales, draws up guidelines for judges and magistrates.

Today’s proposals are open for consultation until May, and do not cover house burglary.

Source: Times Online

What I want to know is, do any among the shower of arseholes that comprise the SGC live in the real world? I highly doubt it, if they did they wouldn’t spout this sort of nonsense.

“The most likely predicted outcome is that there will be more offenders than at present given a fine or a discharge, and fewer given either a community order or a custodial sentence.”

Here’s a shock, they steal from people, how do you think they’re going to pay the fucking fine? Fuck me, if I can figure this out the top judge in the country should be able to grasp it, the witless fuck.

Mitigation could include criminals who stole to feed a drugs, alcohol or gambling addiction, or who were “motivated by desperation or need”, the council said.

That’s right, apparently being a junkie is acceptable mitigation for robbing the elderly, infirm and the vulnerable as opposed to, as you might reasonably expect, no excuse at all. Mitigation? Being a drain on society deserves mitigation does it, putting someone through the trauma of a robbery isn’t quite so bad if you’re ripped off your tits on Special Brew? Since when?

You know, when I was growing up I was always taught that criminals went to jail and were punished, I didn’t realise I was supposed to sympathise with the thieving, low-life fucks and look at it from their point of view.

Every now and again I check the logs and view the statistics for the marvellous institution that is this site. I am never disappointed. Clustered in amongst the usual dross lie little gems that sparkle curiously and delight in subtle ways.

For example.

Breakdown > Keyword

nunoncastors 37

This makes sense; I’m a popular chap after all. Yet, even so, who are these people that search for me? Is it a single person or a group? Who are they and why? Mysterious…

epitaph+army+mercenaries 12
the+death+of+the+three+men+on+flannan+isle 23
this+be+the+verse 15
reson+d’etre 3
explanation+of+no+man+is+an+island 9
larkin+this+be+the+verse 14
flannan+isle+by+wilfrid+wilson+gibson+ 12
reason+and+passion+xv 8

You seldom find confirmation that there are some enquiring minds on the internet, yet here it is. While there’s something odd about the three searches for ‘reson d’etre’, it remains somehow comforting. Though I feel slightly guilty that they ended up here of all places, but then I’m not sure what they’re expecting to find anyway.

throwing+dwarfs+in+bratislava 1

Wait… What?

fucking+dwarfs+in+Bratislava 2

Double what?

nun+humiliation+sex+galleries 5

You just can’t beat that.
~
Truly, all human life is represented here on the internet. o_O