A place for over sixties

This is where I air my views on life in my sixties and reminisce. I'd also like you to share your comments and become involved by sharing your points of view.

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Mike Reid's UKIP Calypso

I'm sure you've all heard the rumpus about the DJ Mike Reid's UKIP Calypso. It's been withdrawn now over the usual cries of  racism just because he sang in a West Indian accent. How pathetic are the pc crowd going to get before the country screams "Enough!"?

I think the words are very, very true and appropriate to be honest:

Taxpayers' money where does it go? Not even George Osborne knows, when we're in power and we engage, there will be no tax on the minimum wage.

Leaders committed a cardinal sin, open the borders let them all come in, illegal immigrants in every town, stand up and be counted Blair and Brown.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

The British people have been let down, that's why Ukip is making ground, from Crewe to Cleethorpes, outer Hendon, they don't believe Cameron's referendum.

Coalition could be a fact, with any party we could make a pact, stop telling lies about us do, and we'll stop telling the truth about you.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

Though our pensions scheme is in a mess, we need money for the NHS, to Jean-Cleade Juncker we're giving away £55m a day.

Oh what a farce he won the vote, this is my favourite Juncker quote, he looked a reporter straight in the eye and said 'when things get serious it's time to lie'.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

The EU live in wonderland, tried to ban bent bananas and British jam, we don't want jam the EU way, jam yesterday tomorrow but never today

The daily polls suggest somehow, Ukip are the third party now, in the euro elections we were so immersed, we weren't the third party we were the first

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

With the government sitting on the fence, Ukip policy makes more sense, to get out of Europe is our target, Commonwealth not common market.

Other parties please take note, Ukip is not a protest vote, so mark your cross and by word of mouth, tell them what to do in Thanet South.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

With the EU we must be on our mettle, want to change our lawnmowers and our kettles, our hairdryers, smart phones and vacuum cleaners, but Ukip is wise to their misdemeanours.

Farage likes his fags and beer, but there is one thing I want to get clear, now I like Nigel, he's a friend of mine, but he appears more than Dimbleby on Question Time.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10.

The other parties will count the cost, in Eastleigh, Thanet, Thurrock and Boston, Labour and Tories shaking in their boots when Ukip kick them up the grass roots.

Meanwhile down at Clacton-on-Sea, Ukip are making history, Douglas Carswell, we're quite adamant, will be the first MP in parliament.

Oh yes, when we take charge, and the new prime minister is Farage, we can trade with the world again when Nigel is at No. 10. 

Friday, 17 October 2014

So very true

Nigel Farage  

Irrespective of whether you like the man or not this is brilliant.

Why are those in power worried about this man and his party...?

Absolutely Brilliant one of the best e-mails in ages!
Nigel Farage UKIP

Nigel Farage for Prime Minister.

This is what he said:

"I am the Tory Party's Worst Nightmare.
I am a White, Tax-Paying, God fearing English man.
I am a hard working Brit and I work long hours to earn a living.

I believe in God and the freedom of religion,
But I don't push it on others.

I believe in British products
And buy them whenever I can.

I believe the money I make belongs to me
And not to some governmental functionary,
To share with others who don't work!

I think owning a home doesn't make you a capitalist;
It makes you a smart Brit.

I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized,
And does not entitle you to anything.
Get over it.
Join in with the majority!

I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac,
You should do it in English.
I believe there should be no other language option.

I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God
When and where they want to.

My heroes are fellow Brits like Freddy Flintoff
And Winston Churchill
And I  know I've missed a few thousand!!!!!

I don't hate the rich.
What I hate is the way they always manage to avoid paying proper
I don't pity the poor,
I just hate the way they are always moaning that they are hard done

I know wrestling is fake
And I don't waste my time watching or arguing about it.

I believe if you don't like the way things are here,
Go back to where you came from
And change your own country!

This is ENGLAND .
We like it the way it is and even more so the way it was
So stop trying to change it to look like some other socialist country!

If you were born or legally migrated here
And don't like it... You are free to move
To any Socialist country that will have you.
I believe it is time to really clean house,
Starting with the House of Commons,
The seat of our biggest problems.

I want to know where the "Do Gooders" get their money from,
And why are they always part of the problem and not the solution?
Can I get an AMEN on that one?

I also think the cops have the right to pull you over if you're
breaking the law,
Regardless of what race, colour or creed you are.
And, no, I don't mind having my face shown on my driving licence.
I think it's good....

I dislike those people trying to guilt me into making 'donations' to
their cause.
Get a job and support yourself and your family!

I believe 'illegal' is illegal no matter what the lawyers think!

I believe the Union Jack flag should be allowed to be flown
Anywhere in the United Kingdom !

If this makes me a BAD Brit,
Then yes, I'm a BAD Brit.
If you are a BAD Brit too,
Please forward this to everyone you know....

We want our country back! My Country.....

I hope this offends all illegal aliens.

My great, great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Boer
My grandfather watched and bled as his friends died in World Wars 1&2.
I watched as my friends died in Sierra Leone Bosnia, & Desert Storm.
Our sons and daughters watched & bled as their friends
Died in Afghanistan and Iraq .
None of them died for the Afghanistan and Iraq Flag.
Every Briton died for the British flag.

At one high school,
Foreign students raised a Middle East flag on a school flag pole.
British students took it down.
Guess who was expelled.
The students who took it down .

West London high school students were sent home,
Because they wore T-shirts with the Union Jack flag printed on them.

What is going on??
What idiots do we have in authority??
Enough is enough.

This message needs to be viewed by every Brit;
And every Briton needs to stand up for Britain .
We've bent over to appease the Brit-haters long enough.
I'm taking a stand.

I'm standing up because of the millions
Who died fighting in wars for this country,
And for the British flag.

And shame on anyone who tries to
Make this a racist message.

Britons, stop giving away Your RIGHTS !


This statement DOES NOT mean I'm against immigration!

Welcome to come legally:

1. Get a sponsor !
2. Learn the LANGUAGE, as immigrants have in the past!
3. Live by OUR rules and Laws ! Dress as we Britons Do !
4. Get a job !
5. Pay YOUR Taxes !
6. No Social Security until you have earned it and paid for it !
7. Find a place to lay your head !

If you don't want to forward this for fear of offending someone,

We've gone so far the other way.
bent over backwards not to offend anyone.


If you do not Pass this on, may your fingers cramp !



Nigel Farage

Friday, 26 September 2014

Tribute to my daughter

It wasn’t till my daughter pointed it out but last Monday was four years to the day that I’d finished Cancer treatment. I had a vague idea it was around now sometime, but couldn’t have made an accurate guess. Then again, at my age, I suppose everything’s vague.

The picture here with my darling daughter was taken the day after I’d finished treatment at Anne, my youngest sister’s place. That’s to explain why I look so haggard and battered in the picture. Three operations, 7 weeks Radiotherapy to the head and neck plus Chemotherapy and feeding through a tube in the stomach tend to have that effect on one.

But I survived, and that’s due largely to the efforts of my daughter. She was an absolute rock throughout. From the minute I was told I’d got the big C, she was there for me, 24-7. It’s a tremendous smack in the mouth, being told you’ve got the evil bastard disease but she convinced me all the way through that I was going to make it. Every second of every day and every night she was either with me or at the other end of the phone. I couldn’t even begin to count the number of times I’d call her late at night, or in the early hours because I was frightened, worried, or in a great deal of pain and she was always there, talking me through it and telling me why I was going to get through it.
I remember in the early stages they couldn’t find the primary source of my Cancer and they’d carried out deep scans and chest x-rays and I was terrified that when we returned to The Lister they’d tell us that it was lung Cancer and I didn’t really hold out much hope of beating that to be honest. She spent hours the evening before and in to the early hours trying to convince me that there was no way it could be in the lungs but in the remote chance that it was, we’d deal with it.

I remember the two of us sitting before Maria, the surgeon dealing with us that day as she waffled on about Cancer etc till Sascha interrupted her and said “Sorry, but are the results back for the lungs yet?” As Maria replied “ Oh God yes, the lungs are completely clear . “ I remember us both bursting in to tears at the relief her answer gave us both. I remember Sascha saying that she’d really been concerned that it was in the lungs but she was trying to keep me in a positive frame of mind.
I was staying at her place in London during a lot of the treatment and it was so reassuring to be with her and to keep getting the constant reassurance that she provided.
The worst part of the whole course of treatment came about in a Radiotherapy session. If you’re having Radiotherapy in the head and neck,  a mask is constructed for you which holds your head in position for the treatment session as if you move a fraction too far the wrong way, it can sever the spinal cord. Lovely thought! The mask is moulded exactly to the contours of your head and face. That exactly that should you forget to close your eyes as they bolt you in to position, tough, your eyes will be stuck open for the duration.
Anyway, I arrived one day and funnily enough Sascha wasn’t with me. I’d felt quite nauseous on the way over and I pointed this out to the Radiotherapy staff on arrival and they assured me it wouldn’t be a problem as they’d be watching through the observation window. Yep, you’ve guessed it, I was sick. I raised a hand, no response. Began waving both hands, then my legs and on getting no response started struggling with the mask. No easy task as there were eight locking bolts holding it in position but fear gives one tremendous strength and I managed to pop a couple of studs and yell! They came rushing in, removed the mask and tried to placate me. No, that’s not the right word as it suggests they were doing or had done something wrong, and that wasn’t the case.It all happened in seconds. Calm me’s a more appropriate word I think.

Problem was, the next day and several days afterwards, each time they started clipping the bolts in to place I couldn’t take it. They were tremendously patient with me, as was my Oncologist, the wonderful, fabulous, lovely Anna Thompson. Some days I just wouldn’t even go and she’d be calling me to ease my fears and explain why I must carry on with the treatment. In the end, the only way I would carry on was if Sascha was sitting in the observation room watching me. That way I had someone I trusted 100%. Even then it was a struggle and sometimes I just couldn’t do it. Anna kept asking, begging me really to let her sedate me and there was no way. I thought if I did that I’d be totally out of control and just lie there and choke to death. She tried explaining that it wasn’t like that and I still kept refusing.

In the end, Sascha and I arrived one day to be confronted by Anna who explained that I either had to be admitted and undergo two sessions a day or stop completely. As she explained, it’s a course and you can’t just have some and hope it works, you must have the full course. On asking what would happen if I discontinued treatment she explained that I could die. II gave it some thought and decided I’d take my chances and discontinue treatment. That was when Sascha took a hand again. “Anna, she said “ could I have half an hour or my own with dad?” Anna replied of course she could and we went outside. To cut a long story short, Sascha spoke to me at length and I went back in, accepted sedation for each and every remaining session and four years later I’m still here.

Yep, she’s a remarkable, very special young Lady, my daughter. She’s a parent herself now, and she’s doing a pretty good job at that too.

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Friday, 22 August 2014


Hi all, 

Apologies once more, not been very good at updating. Being honest, I've been so wrapped up in my darling grandson, I've done very little else.

That pic was taken about a minute after he woke up. (wish I could look that cheerful when I'd just woken)
I know I'm biased, but is that not the most adorable little face?When he's asleep, I just sit and look at him, I'm totally captivated.

On a less cheerful note, what do we think of all this crap out in Iraq? I hope Bush and Blair are proud of themselves. Okay, Bush was just dense, but Blair was/is one evil, conniving individual, whose only aim was to line his own pockets and he didn't care how many British lives were lost in aiding his cause. Wish we could make a return to the old days, when leaders of a country actually led their forces in to battle.I bet war would cease overnight.

Anyway,  I promise to try and write more often, so stay safe and be happy.

Monday, 4 August 2014

We will remember them

 Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I'm sure all of us are aware of today's date, August 4th. It was on this day, one hundred years ago that Britain entered the war. Thousands and thousands of young people lost their lives or were seriously injured, both physically and mentally. 

I won't go in to a long diatribe as to the why's and wherefore's, but I think we should, as has been suggested, turn all our lights off at 2200 this evening to remember those brave human beings.

We must never forget them, and we must always be so grateful.

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