Scrap metal and religion

16 April 2012

Yet again we have a nice bright sunny day here in Dorktown – and today I will be off into town but this time I will be heading for Iceland for some milk (at £1 for 4 pints you can’t beat them), and to get some dosh out of the bank ready me setting off bright and early for my few days off.  I’m not going to Blackpool though; no, a friend has let me have their mobile home in Chapel St Leonards for a few days.  I’ve driven through the area before but I’ve never actually spent a lot of time there so it should be an interesting break away.

Scrap metal prices are rising and metal thefts are increasing as we all know from news reports.  But how mean spirited can these thieves get though?  How about stealing a walking frame that I young boy uses to get around?  Well, that’s what has happened here in Dorktown.  The couple of quid they get for the frame is nothing compared with the value to the boy and his quality of life.  I  very much doubt that the thief will be caught, but if on the off chance he is I bet he’s a druggie!  When we were burgled we knew who it was who did simply because of what was taken from where.  Two CID guys turned up to speak to us after and they seemed to think we should make allowances for him seeing he is on drugs.  Why should we?  I was his choice to use cannabis in the first place, no one stood over hum with a gun to head making him do it.  When he progressed to heroin the same thing applies.  He made his choices and now he has to live with those choices.  Why should we have to pay the price for his choice to be  addict?

And while I’m on the subject of scrap metal … twice in five minutes we have had a van drive down the street calling out for scrap iron.  These people are a real menace.  We’ve had four crews in one day around here.  Our street, is late Victorian terrace housing; so are most of the streets in our area.  I bet these same crews don’t go around the snobs alley areas of Whitestone and St Nicholas Park Drive areas!  We have started making a list of dates, times and reg numbers of the vans being used.  They need a licence to carry waste.  Let’s see how many of them have one when the list is handed over.

I thought a different sort of photo for today …

This is Sally-pup and Penny-puss.  Jan has used this shot to do a painting of them.  I’d post that here two but I don’t have that one on here yet.

Today’s joke is …

The Irish Prostitute

An Irish girl went to London to work as a secretary and began sending home money and gifts to her parents.  After a few years they asked her to come home for a visit, as her father was getting frail and elderly. She pulled up to the family home in a Rolls Royce and stepped out wearing furs and diamonds

As she walked into the house her father said "Hmmm, they seem to be paying secretaries awfully well in London."

The girl took his hands and said, "Dad, I've been meaning to tell you something for years but I didn't want to put it in a letter. I can't hide it from you any longer. I've become a prostitute."

Her father gasped, put his hand on his heart and keeled over. The doctor was called but the old man had clearly lost the will to live. He was put to bed and the priest was called.  As the priest began to administer Extreme Unction, with the mother and daughter weeping and wailing, the old man muttered weakly, "I'm a goner, killed by me own daughter! Killed by the shame of what you've become!"

"Please forgive me," his daughter sobbed, "I only wanted to have nice things! I wanted to be able to send you money and the only way I could do it was by becoming a prostitute."

Brushing the priest aside, the old man bolted upright in bed, smiling.

"Did ye say prostitute? Thank GOD - I thought ye said PROTESTANT!!"