State of the Nation report. Bring out your stupid.

While Boris and co dither in the Downing Street bunker the Government fed tabloids scream at the thick, the stupid and the poor that lockdown is over in order that as many as possible contract the virus  while the Times reports that lockdown is here until July.

To the Government the economy is far more important than lives. As in America, the sums have been done and decisions made. It does not take a rocket scientist to see what is coming next.... 

Today is VE day. I am having to park a German car in front of the house to protect myself from the combined forces of the Queens Own Stupids and the Boris Yout who will be out in force napalming the country with every Coronavirus laden victory exhalation. Is that irony?

The sane have two options today: 1. We can bunker down and sit it out.    2. We can attempt to fight them on the beaches, in the parks, at the street blah blah blah.  I'm opting for the former. Never in the history of Britain has so much stupidity been displayed by so many to protect the wealth of the few.

The plague carts will rattle over the cobbles once more and the air shall fill with cries of:'Bring out your stupid'.

Meanwhile in America Trump sits in his counting house trying to decide who to go to war with in order to distract the Nation, whilst they die in their Tens of thousands, from his Venal, narcissistic and callous stupidity.

Give me strength.

Love in the time of Corona.

The first time I saw her
I thought
She has been unlucky

She was the most beautiful girl in the clinic

The second time I saw her
I thought
She had been careless

The beautiful girl in the clinic

The third time I saw her
I thought
She was promiscuous or worse

That girl in the clinic.

The fourth time I saw her
I thought
Stupid me, she is a doctor.
I approached her then and said
'Doctor
You are the most beautiful girl in the clinic'.

She replied:
I'm not a doctor
I'm unlucky
I'm careless
I'm promiscuous
or worse.
But I feel that is about to change.

We left the clinic hand in hand
Separated by the thickness of two surgical gloves.

Later, much later the night before lock-down was lifted 
as we lay
Her head on my chest her hair in my face
the scent of hibiscrub filling the white room.
I said 'I love you'

and she said don't love me
I am unlucky
I an careless
I am promiscuous
or worse

And nothing has changed.

Men With Ven... 0 to 60.

Trump will urge Supreme Court to strike down Obamacare

A clear and succinct summary from Ilya Ruvinsky of St Louis.

As 2,000 Americans die and 25,000 are infected each day, the Trump administration is actively working to strip healthcare away from 29 million Americans in the middle of a global pandemic. Even Attorney General William Barr believes that the Affordable Care Act should NOT be dismantled in its entirety, but couldn’t convince the administration to back down from its extremist position.

A recent report estimated that if the unemployment rate hits 15%, nearly 18 million Americans could lose their employer-based health coverage. Over 9 million workers have already lost it.

In the middle of the worst pandemic outbreak in the world, the Trump administration is actively working to deprive the most vulnerable Americans of access to healthcare over the objection of its own Attorney General. LET THAT SINK IN.

https://www.politico.com/news/2020/05/06/trump-supreme-court-obamacare-240366?fbclid=IwAR0ZrSRbd19mmlzjTT7COY5UF3a09uR2ifrNo-H3dRfvzmXzsFYCZyiHkTw

Sad bloke in the kitchen No: 3. Zen relish.

This relish can only be made when the fridge Chakra are in perfect alignment.


Firstly you need to find the sacred, almost empty, pickled cucumber jar in the fridge.

Pour some of the pickle juice into a small pan and add some brown sugar, boil it up until syrupy. It will not take long, don't burn it.

Peel and dice ( having removed the seeds and hard bit in the middle) a couple of tomatoes and put in a bowl. Add 4 inches of cucumber diced, some onion diced, the solitary pickled cucumber from the jar diced, salt, pepper, chilli if you like, I use chilli powder but fresh or dried is probably better. Add the syrupy stuff from the pan and stir. you can add a bit of white wine vinegar if you like.

Try it and see what you think. Adjust seasoning but remember things are going to change over the next couple of days.

Now take the empty pickle jar that appeared to be at the end of its useful life and destined for the recycling bin, wash it out and fill with the relish. You will find that you have made exactly the right amount to fill the jar and that the jar lives again.... That is the Zen bit.

Leave it in the fridge for a day or two to macerate.

Great with burgers, kebabs and the like.

Time to re-evaluate how we measure wealth.

1.  I am a rich man. I have a great deal of money, many employees but no friends. I own many houses, two yachts and a helicopter. whilst self isolating in one of my houses I must contain myself to one room in order to protect myself (I care not about the welfare of the others in my house, it is my house after all). I am obliged to self isolate in my bedroom because it is the one room which has en suite lavatory and bath facilities. I have gold taps. Everything I need must be left outside my door by others, when I retrieve these things I must worry about whether the person leaving them there has the virus or wants to give me the virus and for that reason I wash everything with surgical spirit. I wash my hands constantly.  Having never lived in my own company alone before I am ill versed in the art of isolation. I am bored to tears and suffer greatly from insomnia, I count the sheep that huddle in the corner ostracising me. I do not want to die.   But I am a rich man.

2.  I am a rich man. I have little money but it is sufficient. I have good friends, no yachts, cars, houses or helicopters. I have a studio flat. Whilst self isolating I am happy to contain myself to within this safe bubble. I have my bathroom, a sleeping area, a kitchen area and a table on which to work. Kind people bring me the things that I need to survive, I do not need to wash these things because I trust those who bring them. I do not have to concern myself with constant hand washing. I cook what I want when I want. I sleep when I do and rise when I chose. Insomnia is not an issue, I count my blessings. I have a small balcony on which to grow herbs and from where I can stand at night to watch the moon and by day to fill my lungs with air no longer polluted by motor cars or burning coal. I'm writing daily, videoing friends, content to die at my own pace...  As I had been before the pandemic. I am a rich man.

Hmmmmm....

From the archives. Memories of Moll the bag Lady.

MAY

25

Memories of Moll the bag lady. 

What a weird few days.

Spontaneous pole dancing to the London Gypsy Orchestra in a church on Ladbroke Grove followed by a spontaneous party at my favourite Dutch girl's house.

My favourite dutch girl has a dog that fits into a bicycle basket and a record collection to die for... She makes good coffee and talks sense.

I also learnt from Moll the bag lady this weekend that a smiling woman is not necessarily an honest woman. Frequently a smiling woman is just a woman trying too hard to disguise the fact that nothing has gone to plan... the brighter the smile the greater the sadness.

Dysfunctional women have no time for happy, content men... There is nothing to manipulate and from the man's point of view, after a few shags, there is nothing there apart from a future consisting of fault, blame, psycho-sexual counselling, transference of doubt and the realisation that we are to blame for the ageing process, loss of looks, lack of orgasm, stretch marks, dead children, lack of children, unhappiness, family feuds, the price of cosmetics and the depth of wrinkles. Oh, and getting FAT.

For fuck's sake let's all take responsibility for ourselves.

Fortunately for dysfunctional women there are plenty of men out here who will buy the bullshit or ignore the bullshit just for a casual shag.

Imagine going through ones entire life presenting oneself as a sex object (and lying compulsively) in order to feel wanted.

I saw Moll the bag lady trawling through the rubbish bin of humanity the other day... Looking for an admirer.

Sadly she would not recognise an admirer even if he saved her life... she is too busy looking for trash.

She'll find it.

Posted 25th May 2010 by Tristan Hazell

Sad bloke in the kitchen No: 2. Breakfast in a glass.

Not to be confused with the 'Lost weekend' smoothie. http://jannieupjur.blogspot.com.pre-pentimento.com/2009/09/smoothie-for-lost-weekend.html




Into a blender chuck: Banana* sliced up, a raw egg, dollop of plain yogurt, some cold strong black coffee, milk, handful of porridge oats, dash of honey (or sugar if you must) and a few ice cubes.

Blitz and adjust thickness with milk.

Season to taste with vodka.

Top tip: When you have left over cold black coffee freeze it in an ice cube tray for making this.


*Quantities: Standard Sad bloke 'whatever' rules apply.

Sad bloke in the kitchen. No: 1. Coronavirus chicken.

This is almost as instant as a pot noodle.

Poach a chicken breast in stock. Do not overcook the thing. Let it cool.

In a bowl mix a grated carrot, very thinly sliced half an onion, shredded lettuce and finely chopped cucumber skin (I only use the skin because the flesh is too wet, I'll use that in a tomato and cucumber relish later) and some chopped parsley or shredded fresh corriander. Anything else salady can be added if you have it.

In another bowl mix a dollop of mayonnaise, teaspoon of curry powder, squeeze of lime or lemon, salt and a bit of milk or cream if you have it.

Shred the chicken, add to the bowl of vegetables then stir in the sauce.

Very nice with buttered new potatoes and pickled beetroot.

I was going to photograph it but had a taste, found it so infectious that I had eaten it before I could get the camera.

The screaming trampoline of isolation.

I cannot post a photograph as children are involved.

The kitchen window here opens directly onto the neighbours garden. A week or so ago they introduced a trampoline into the equation, shortly afterwards they introduced a number of small, overexcited children then wound them up and let them go.

The screams issuing from the garden now exactly mimic what I imagine to be the sound track to hell.

Kill me now.

The freedom to self imprison.

Looking in from behind bars made from harp strings on the poor souls trapped in the world with no-where to self isolate. Ironic isn't it... The freedom to self imprison has become essential to life.

And.

I love the way that threat of death brings a desire to reminisce.
( If it goes on like this I shall die from an overdose of joyful memories).
I guess that is why we have memory. To make death a time of contentment.
If all has gone to the plan that never was.
And we did everything we possibly could or wanted or had not imagined.
And have nothing left to learn or teach or give.
And have run out of Ands
And breath.

Lost masterpieces of modern art No. 2.

Detail.

Lunch with Rothko.

Jan nieupjur. 1897 -  Dutch.

5 a day green soup with Marmite, pistachio & parsley croutons, highly seasoned with ground pretension on porcelain.

8" x 8"

private Collection.