FURY

 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!