Fury. An odd word
to associate with a hand dryer. Given the choice does anyone really want their
hands dried furiously? Made love to furiously, maybe.
Shaken hands with, perhaps. But dried
furiously? Give me ‘efficiently,’ ‘thoroughly’ or ‘weekly’ any day of the
week. If my dainty hands are ever dried furiously I’m likely to fall on my
knees, burst into tears and cry, “I’m so sorry. Please stop! I didn’t mean to
make you angry. You *are* more hygienic than paper towels!" On any other day the above would be true. But today there were no tears. Fury made perfect sense to me because I
had just seen the budget.
Not the budget of this blog. Then there truly would be
tears. I was planning to start crowdfunding it but my previous attempt at
crowdfunding – the compilation “Hold On: 24 Hours of Call Centre Favourites” – stalled at 0% of the target reached and no backers whatsoever. The less said about my facepainting business "Designs on Your Kids" the better. For now I
continue undergoing medical experiments to spare YOU my loyal readers the misery
of having to see adverts. Or installing adblocker.
No I am talking about THE budget. This was originally a lengthy political rant
the gist of which was “Be careful of the sort of people you make enemies of,”
my argument being that the government was pissing off people who would then
learn how to be 10 times more resourceful than them. Take away the Foie gras &
corporate backhanders & a Tory wouldn’t last a day on a council estate let
alone on a desert island. Poor people of course can handle the challenges of
both. Council estate? Easy. Desert Island? Tricky but doable. Just avoid minor
celebs with their excess of bibles, mixtapes & complete works of Shakespeare;
minor celebs eating lice & gorilla
sputum and…look can we just stop sending minor celebs to all the nice places
please? Or maybe we won’t need to, like I
say a starving mass or two can deal with them just fine. Poverty makes you resilient if it doesn’t kill you first.
But angry political rants never change anything on Facebook. Anyway I was
concerned my open invitation to fight George O, IBS or Hameron would be perceived as a threat and I would be
arrested. Not that being arrested bothers me, more that they would sooner do
that than face me in a dark alley. And I’m a feeble coward who nearly has a
panic attack in a well lit alley. I’m
not convinced I could even lay a finger on any Tory who squared up to me –
labouring the alley thing a bit more you should know I can’t bowl without
having the safety buffers on (although I can ride a bike without stabilisers –
just) – but I would at least like the chance to find out.
So treat this as a musing rather than a threat. I found myself noticing how
stray water had clearly been affected by the power of the Air Fury. It is
indeed a powerful beast with a magnificent roar – much like how Aslan would sound
if he was a hand dryer and actually real instead of a fictional Jesus lion.
You can see the effects in the below photo. So Tories I put it to you that if
an Air Fury hand dryer can do that to water what will the roar of fury from the
working classes, the oppressed, your victims do to you?
Another musing. If the conservative government was a hand dryer: which would it
be? Let me tell you. It would be the
Shitstorm 3000 and rather than direct air at your hands it would project hot,
liquid faeces at your entire body. There would be wall to wall shitstorms in
the bathroom of your despair and the only thing left untainted would be the
ATOS form waiting by the door. It says “Are you able to stand or sit long
enough to be covered in diarrhoea?”
You tick yes.
Congratulations!
You have been found fit for work!
