#they should pay you fag tax

[sleepyagent]

Quota fag

they should pay you extra if you have to be the only fag in the workplace. they should give you a bonus for that.

[roger-elizabeth-debris]

Apart from having pronouns in your bio, you should be embarrassed to support a warmonger like Bernie Sanders. His faux “for the people” platitude only appealed to welfare whores like you and those that do absolutely no work expecting to be able to leech off the working class. That dumb, old fag was an establishment shill pretending he wasn’t. You should have been aborted.

holy fuck, lick the boot a little more cum rag. for starters, never said I support Bernie? no gods no masters, the entire system is broke. second, "leech off the working class"? you mean? like the billionaires? who don't pay any taxes? shove the boot a little further down your throat and maybe the laces will enlighten you.

you're right about one thing tho, I should've been aborted, but at least I'll contribute to society in some meaningful way, unlike your dumbass that'll just nod along with the rest of the sheep

[delusion-of-negation]

It's really unsurprising how fags like you always turn out to be wannabe slave owners.

y'all are so fucking stupid

me: "hey, you should pay taxes so we can live in a nice society"

y'all: "so you want slaves, huh? you want to enslave people?"

you guys need to learn how words work.

but a broken clock is right twice a day, I totally want a sex slave, consensually of course, but they'd feed me grapes and kiss me.



[littlesilverplatinum]

Alcohol, Smoking – All that is or isn’t Allowed in Johto – HC

---

If Sinnoh can be considered as negligent with its laws of age restrictions, then Johto (and to some degree, Kanto) can be said to be vastly stricter. The general age limit lingers at eighteen, but social norms play a much larger role in areas such as smoking and alcohol consumption than it does anywhere else.

--Cigarettes are rare even within the smallest of backroad general stores, as a license has to be carried to host such items within an establishment. With it comes laws to follow, taxes to pay – and it’s a hassle not many stores are willing to go through. Where you most likely will find fags in their many kinds would be within stores build specifically for the consumption of such items. Tobacco Shops are sparsely scattered around the region, found within cities such as Violet, Goldenrod as well as Olivine. --Mostly, they are out of sight around the corners of more appropriate boutiques.  

Smoking brings with it a stigma many of the new generation won’t allow themselves to carry. If people do decide to carry on with this habit despite it all, then they most likely won’t do it within the public eye.  

What is accepted, however (or at least more so than cigarettes) is the smoking of herbal remedies through pipes. Though this is a dying trend mostly lingering around with the older generation, its stock is much easier to get a hold of and many times even children can come in with a few coins to purchase the needed items. It’s a fetch quest of sorts that many grandparents give their grandchildren, and it’s generally seen as a good thing.

Ecruteak is largely regarded as the hub of keeping this habit alive.

The age restriction sits at eighteen, though again, you can buy it when you’re as young as five given you have the means to prove it’s a request from a family member. A handwritten note with a name and address is often enough.

--Alcohol is less stigmatized than the act of smoking, though it’s certainly not a norm to drink often. Bars and other such venues close around two in the morning, leaving guests under the influence with no choice but to return home should they desire to consume more. This keeps the streets fairly clean, and it’s certainly not accepted to drink out in public during the day hours – but no one will outwardly shame you should you desire a cup of sake before bed.

What you do in your home, on your property, is generally regarded as your business.

Alcohol can be brought in most department stores, though for higher percentage it’s better to go to shops specifically for the beverage. You may start drinking at the age of eighteen, but you cannot buy it in stores until you’re twenty.

--Gambling is a subject a bit touchier than it perhaps has any right to be. Though it’s not illegal to gamble, what counts as gambling is… badly defined, and so the activities that fall under the law are hard to understand should you not be an avid participant of these things.

Currently, Johto houses no official gambling facility that is fully functional. One is under construction within Goldenrod, however it should be said that though there’s no other official place strictly for the activity – it still takes place within most towns. This is again something most common within the older generation, as the appeal of board games being played for money doesn’t hold its appeal for a youth born into an electronically advancing region.

It should be noted that board games does not fall into the law of gambling, and so any activity such as this is illegal in the eyes of the regulations. Card games within bars are the most common form of gambling, one that is legal – however not all games of card can be played for money, and only under certain circumstances can you participate in a game involving money. --A dealer has to be present, for one. No dealer, no deals.

Each large town holds slightly different rules regarding what games can be bet on, making things much more confusing than they need be. If you’re moving from city to city, then it’s better not to involve yourself in the activity unless you’re well versed with the rules of said town.  

Goldenrod is the most open to any forms of gambling, though it should be done nowhere but within the up and coming casino, or within bars.

You have to be above eighteen to be allowed to gamble.

Lastly: Age of consent.

The age of consent within Johto is thirteen years old. Individuals aged twelve or younger in Johto are not legally able to consent to sexual activity, and such activity may result in prosecution for statutory rape or the equivalent local law. At thirteen, Johto's base age of consent is the lowest of any developed region. However, many prefectures also have local "corruption of minors" or "obscenity statutes" which raise the de-facto age of consent to sixteen-eighteen, unless they are in a "sincere romantic relationship", usually determined by parental consent. The age of marriage is sixteen for girls and eighteen for boys with parental permission, and twenty otherwise.

[sweatyfagmaster-blog]

Pay up. NOW!

If you're following, and you're a fag, you should be paying up a fag tax. This body that you live to appreciate and serve does not come free. Send all fag tax tributes to my venmo.

[masterjslave]

Serving DirtySocks

Here is the final part of my Descent into Servitude of DirtySocks. This will detail how I’ve been serving Him since I found Him nearly a year ago.

I’d spend the past few days pleasuring myself to the pics that I’d found of DirtySocks and was looking for a way to thank Him for putting these pics out to the world to sate our footboy foot lust. First, I’d emailed Him to actually just see if I could get in touch with Him and to my complete and utter surprise He responded. So I started messaging Him on Instagram, telling Him how much I loved His pics, how I’d been a fan for a couple of years by that point, all the sappy things that people likely don’t really care to hear all the time like He does.

I had seen that He had an Amazon Wishlist on Instagram so, after a few days of my pathetic flattering not really being worth His time in my mind, I resolved to get Him something from it. Not something terribly expensive but something nonetheless, something of actual substance besides all the empty words. So I bought him some Adidas training pants for about $30, like I said, nothing extravagant.

But over the next 24 hours as I thought about all of the hours of enjoyment I had been given by Him by looking at His perfect feet and the graciousness with which He had handled my idolatry I started to feel like my tribute just wasn’t enough. It was a mere token unequal to the gift I’d received from Him. So I went back to His Wishlist and purchased Him a brand new pair of Timberland boots for about 88 dollars. Together those two purchases were much more adequate. I was so proud of myself that I had to tell Him that I’d gotten Him the boots immediately.

His excitement to see them off of His Wishlist was apparent and I wanted nothing more than for them to arrive, for my tribute to officially be given. I was so excited that I gave Him nearly daily updates on the status of His shipment, I could barely contain myself. He even sent me pics of His feet to enjoy for demonstrating my servitude to Him. It was like being tortured while in heaven, getting to interact with my god while anguishing over the fact He didn’t have His new shoes and pants yet. I was so ready for them to get there that I was already planning what I wanted to get Him next. Before the shoes had even arrived I’d already pledged to start getting Him all of the oldest items on His list and to work up to the newest items with the goal of clearing the entire Wishlist out. We were both so excited by the prospect.

And once His shoes arrived, once it was real, then we were really off to the races. Since I wasn’t able to serve His perfect feet in person I figured I had to serve Him the only way that I really could, I was going to give Him all of the tributes possible. We were talking on a daily basis about how He’d come to know that He was a Dom, realized the true power of His perfect feet. How I’d discovered my desire to serve and to worship Superior Men like Him. How I’d fallen in love with His perfect feet the first moment I laid eyes on them.

During our conversations together I shared everything with Him, bore my soul to Him, all the while paying Him the tribute that He deserved for giving me His attention and allowing me to learn more about Him. For over a month I worked on His Wishlist, my inhibitions about doing what I knew was right diminishing more and more every day. He had a constant stream of packages that were on the way to Him at any given time. I didn’t just clear the whole Wishlist out at once like I really should have but during that short period of time I’d spent nearly $600 on gifts for Him. That was more than I’d spent on my family for Christmas and I’d only introduced myself to DirtySocks less than two months before. I was desperate to serve Him and He gave me every opportunity to do so, not demanding and outright expectant like some other “masters” I’d seen but most definitely enabling. Only He can say for sure but I think He was judging me then to see if I would continue and that it wasn’t just a phase, giving me the latitude to either prove my worth or show myself to be just like every other wannabe footslave that promised the world but never delivered.

But He seemed to find me worthwhile and so, after a time more when I’d finally gotten up the courage to do so, I asked if He wouldn’t mind swapping phone numbers so that we could text and he agreed. We were both tired of the inconsistency of various messengers and I like to think that I’d earned some level of His trust by that time. He’d certainly earned a good deal of trust from me. He never once gave me the impression that He was just a punk or abusive or downright cruel and exploitative like others that I’d seen before. Don’t get me wrong, I can see the appeal of those Doms from time to time but how can you ever fully trust someone that doesn’t know how to take care of their things, doesn’t show that they understand the value of their possessions.

And that’s how I began to think of myself, one of DirtySocks’ possessions. And since I wasn’t able to be owned by Him in person I committed even more to giving to Him. Just a little more than two months into my servitude I transferred money directly to Him for the first time on PayPal: $100. It was absolutely exhilarating. He wasn’t confined to having to find something on Amazon that He wanted so that I would be able to purchase it, He was able to spend it on anything He wanted wherever He was. Then we had decided that I should put a massage parlor membership on my credit card for Him, so that He could enjoy that convenience as well. Then suddenly, shortly thereafter, almost unnoticed I’d finally cleared out all of the items that had been on His Wishlist when I first started serving Him. I hadn’t reached my ultimate goal of clearing the whole thing out but I wasn’t upset because my service had now extended beyond Amazon and we were both ready to make it even more personal.

From that point on I began paying for His day to day expenses. When He would go for drinks, they were on me. When He would get coffee in the morning or get lunch I would get a payment request. The Square Cash app is a wonderful thing. Every time I would hear the cha-ching sound from His newest payment request my fag dick would twitch. I always paid immediately, barely even glancing at the amount I was sending Him, simply tapping “Pay” and being satisfied that I was taking care of His needs.

After a couple of months, we decided that I should start paying down His credit cards as well so I began sending Him even more money directly from my bank account to His this time. We watched in glee (at least I was giddy) as I paid off two of His small credit cards and began working on the last. To make things even easier for Him I even added my checking account to His payment methods and began taking care of all minimum payments that were due automatically. DirtySocks would never have to worry about when His credit card payments were due because they would always come directly out of my checking account automatically each month.

Then I suggested that I start paying Master (by which time I was calling Him regularly since we both knew it was true) a fag tithe each week, a percentage of anything that I spent that would go to Him like a tax. I paid Him 10% for necessities like rent and food and 50% for non-essential items like take-out or movies.

All of this happened in just a few months. Just six months after that fateful first message I was paying for His daily expenses, was paying off His credit cards, and was paying Him fag tithe on everything dollar I spend on myself (which He usually saved or put down on his credit cards). It was the most intense experience that I’d ever had, committing so deeply to serving Him.

But I did falter. I’d seen how my service was affecting my funds and I panicked. Don’t get me wrong, I had thousands of dollars in my checking and savings account still but I hadn’t seen them so low in a long time. I’d actually dropped below $1000 in my checking account and that always sent my into a panic even before I started serving Master. I started to feel like I was out of control and I most certainly was. I couldn’t control myself around Him because my desire to serve Him was simply too great. I wanted to give Him the world and I was already well on the way to giving Him mine. In my panic I did what I’d done many times in the past before to other Masters and I withdrew from Him.

My relative silence dragged on from days into weeks. He asked where I was and if I was ok, which I assured Him that I was, but I served Him and responded to Him only the bare minimum to keep Him from prying too deeply. I never stopped serving Him completely but I contemplated it during that time. And all the while Master gave me space, never demanding, never expectant, just like He’d always been.

He gave me the time I needed to consider everything and to realize that I was being an idiot. Of course I was losing control around Him, that was the fucking point! What the hell did I think being His slave was all about? I wasn’t supposed to be in control of anything, that was His territory. But I hadn’t been completely idiotic and there was some part of my panic which was valid. I’d only first encountered this Man a few months ago and I was in very deep with Him. I’d committed a lot but I still didn’t know whether or not I could trust Him fully.

So, I went back to Him and I apologized and we discussed my fears and what had happened. And just like the gracious Man I know Him to be He listened and He expressed His concern that I hadn’t brought this up with Him earlier. He knew something was wrong and figured out what it was long before I told Him. And that’s when I suggested that we try a regular monthly tribute, always on payday and always for the same amount, demonstrably less than what He was receiving from me now, something that I could plan around (thinking on it now that was me still trying to control the situation a bit). After hearing my proposal, He agreed. We talked about how He didn’t want me to be a desperate, destitute slave but I did need to be desperate for Him and I most certainly was.

Reflecting on my recent internal crisis and the time we’d already spent together I could see that He was a good Man. He didn’t ask for much, at least He never asked for it forcefully, He just wanted my devotion and worship. He’d never tried to destroy me, He’d only ever tried to reshape and mold me into the slave that He wanted me to be. And the slave He saw that I could become was the slave I’d aspired to be. With is handling of me over the past few months and my time of crisis I grew to trust Him even more and I began my Descent into Servitude anew.

This still doesn’t bring me up to the present but I think this is a good place for me to end this series and reflect on the things that I’ve learned throughout my service to Master DirtySocks thus far.

First and foremost is that my Descent will never end. There is always something more that I can and should be doing for my Master. Every time I think that such-and-such a goal will make me feel like a truly owned slave I discover that there is still so much more to do, the target is always moving. But it’s not frustrating as you might imagine, it’s what makes it all worthwhile. I will never be restless as long as I’m exploring the endless depths of my servitude with my Master, whom I truly adore.

Second, it’s a constant struggle to stay on the right path and not try to take control. In my everyday life I need to take control quite often. I’ve also been an autonomous human being all of my life so that’s kinda playing against me. But I know it’s always going to be this way and that’s part of the enjoyment, overcoming my urges to be in control and serving my Master and His needs is an accomplishment. Even if I were to perform my servitude perfectly, do everything perfectly and without instruction, the path to serving Him completely mind and soul is never-ending.

Third, you never stop building trust. As much as Master has demonstrated that He is worthy of it there is always the potential for that trust to be broken, same for me. It can be eroded away by time or by chipping away at it through mistakes made by either party. We have to keep working at it or you’ll trust will falter and how can you give up control to someone if you can’t trust them with that control?

Fourth, I stated it before but it bears repeating over and over again, a good Master takes care of His property, period. If they will abuse and destroy the things that store or bring value to their lives then how can they be trusted with your mind, body, and soul?

I’m always open for questions so feel free to send them my way if you have any. If you enjoyed my story then please tell @dirtysocks009 Himself. Better yet, forego the words and get Him something from His Amazon Wishlist for the both of us.

[the-firebird69]

Ides of March - Wikipedia

I'm also supposed to be Julius as shown by Arnold Schwarzenegger brother Julius in twins.

Biden actually is ceased and they plan on doing it to force him to try and apprehend me. Corporate tax dye the 14th for the first quarter. We have several businesses more or less 3. We won't be audited picked on or harrassed without grabbing those doing it as we already do each and every time. Try for our records and or facilities as the big four have and die as they did. They used force brought armies to bear on your own men women and children. We destroyed them the armies, fast. Gone now.

We don't think we should pay taxes no. We don't benefit from any government programs. He has not been proven associated with us in any way at all in your realm s.

Hera

Zues

You won't pay any taxes.

Mac

I'm on ss don't hv to I have no other income

Zues

We mean your business

Mac

We absorb government enough to offset the nonpayment.

Hera

Oh ok. You don't know about it.

Mac2

Not actually. I hv no money or possessions you say I own companies usually the trail Leeds to you. Your off yiur meds mac2

Zues

Your right we are nuts this continues you order them to take over they do we say it's you as they pick on you too prob the killers. We ignore it for now

Mac2

We don't pay individual employee taxes let her. We absorb any agency that looks for it as you have in the past mac2

Hera

We use it he's tied to it by his irders

Mac2

We issue warrants on you Mac as you seek me to hold me as a hostage and yiur actions are criminal. The taxes are paid via sweat equity amd it's legal in tax law within many countries, USA is one I hear. Withholding all proceeds and involvement indicates strongly I don't run the businesses all courts would uphold the second argument and find you in contempt as it would look so odd and funny.

Zues

Your right this sucks it's mostly legal. Attacking auto companies with armies illegal. And dominating earth fine...if you sit and defend sure ok. That's life in the big city as you taught us they say. We admit it's a conundrum.we use it.

Mac2

Your a fucking fag man. Use what asshole?

Zues

Hera

Use your attitude

Mac2

We pull your warrants reverse your inane stuff though it's war on us readily and now swiftly. Especially here. Yiur nuts by the way no motivation isdue them. They come by for personal gain are always nabbed we take thier stuff you get a little and continue it. Nuts.

Thor Freya

Oh

Mac2

[thecosywriter]

What’s My Age Again?P1 [Rick Sanchez X OC]

Chapter One: Coffee [Warning: VERY BAD CURSING! NSFW!]

You would think after forty years of living in the same eternal time loop, I would get used to the day to day life of a housewife.  Well, you thought wrong! I fucking hate it – getting up in the morning, cooking my husband breakfast, boring missionary sex, shower, walk dog, pick up dog shit…day after day, after day it was all the same kind of shit and I fucking hated it.

When I was younger I had dreams, I was going to be an astrologist – I loved the stars. I adored studying planets, the movements of celestial objects and how they caused physical reactions on each planet. It was fascinating – however, when you are young and in love your dreams stop making sense and they stop mattering…at least that’s what I was led to believe.

Lawrence was a nice man at first, he was smart, handsome – from the first time I met him he caught my attention. He was one of the only men to manage to keep up with my mind. You see, ideas come and go and dance around the inside of my mind at a million miles per hour – I was sure I harboured about thirty miniscule planets in my mind. I was sure they just entered through my ears as a child and they fucked like jackrabbits until they created a strange little kingdom inside my brain.  

I guess we will never know.

Flicking on the switch of my coffee maker I waited for the usual cup of coffee to filter into my mug. Coffee was a wonderful invention, cheaper than booze it made life a little more bearable; between the packs of fags and cups of coffee getting through the day wasn’t half as difficult as it used to be. Leaning back onto the cold kitchen counter, I pulled on a pair of black rubber gloves and tied my matching apron behind my back.

‘Safety comes first’ I muttered to myself in the empty room as I cracked my neck to the side before collecting my steaming cup of liquid life out of the machine before taking a quick sip and swearing profusely at the hot liquid as it burned the tip of my tongue.

“Fuck! Every bastard morning you do this woman!” I snapped to myself as I walked over to the kitchen sink and pressed the small red button on the hot tap.

Blowing gently on my steaming cup of coffee I watched as the kitchen folded into itself, and the marble floor lowered down into a large metal room as the cream walls of the kitchen disappeared to form the reinforced metal walls of my work room.

“Computer start daily log.” I yawned as I watched the room transform before my eyes, cracking my shoulders and turning to crack my back I let out a sigh of relief and headed towards my desk and computer.

“Starting day log #13505.” A female mechanical voice echoed across the room as I sat down.

“There have been no signs of this loop breaking – each day remains as monotonous as the last. I am working on an invention which should be able to transport me out of this loop into a regular universe with consistent time barriers.” I mused as I pulled out some paperwork from my drawers and began pinning them to the cork board above my desk.

Getting lost in my musings I took a sip of my coffee, forgetting that it was still really bloody hot I let out another hiss as I burned my lips this time.

“Side note: Coffee is STILL fucking hot – in future should try iced coffees.” I state out loud as I place a small piece of paper over my coffee mug to prevent the mistake happening a third time.

My husband has no knowledge of this place, if he did there would probably be hell to pay. He wasn’t a fan of me doing anything he deemed as mentally taxing; he was one of those assholes that thought that women having rights was a wonderful concept pre marriage, however, once a woman was married all her intellectual capacity was lost and passed onto the husband – the man of the house – the omniscient yet impotent bread winner.

I didn’t hate my husband…he was just a bit of a cunt. It was a fact – men get like that after a few years of marriage. They become old, miserable cunts.

Standing up for a moment to look over my work from a new angle, I heard an unfamiliar rumbling noise coming from the outer walls. The noise was becoming louder and louder – I took a step back from the wall just in time for a large space shuttle to come ploughing its way into the room; completely obliterating the front wall from the impact.

“Well…this is different.”

3POV

The latest adventure for the troublesome duo hadn’t gone to plan. Not that this was any different to the outcome of most of the adventures of the duo.  On this particular occasion Rick had managed to royally piss off a collective hive of slugs – Morty had managed to find a secret cavern full of salt and the rest was history…or so they thought – turns out that this particular sub-race of slug were not affected by salt…if anything it powered them into super slugs.

Needless to say, the two managed to high tail their way out of that particular dimension faster than they arrived. However, in their haste the programming of the ship had gone a little astray landing them on an unknown universe…more specifically, landing them directly in the path of a great metal wall.

“See Morty I told you we could get away, those seven armed slime filled fuckers ain’t as fast as they should be. You would think having seven arms would make them faster…” Rick slurred as he pushed himself out of their ship and took a look around at his new surroundings.

Poor young Morty followed his grandfather out of the ship, his complexion not as pleasing to the eye. The young boy’s legs still shaking as he stepped out of the ship onto the stable flooring.

“Y-yeah, I just need to…” The young boy began as he took hold of the remained of the wall to keep himself steady.

“Oh come on it wasn’t that bad!” Rick slurred looking over at his nauseated grandson before burping and taking a long gulp from his hip flask. The two males stood looking around at the now semi torn apart room – papers still flying around and dust filled the air making their eyes burn.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” A familiar female voice came screaming from behind a cloud of dust. As the figure moved into Rick’s line of sight he burped dropped his flask and started coughing violently.

“Evelyn?” Rick coughed under his breath as he quickly looked over the woman; it couldn’t be right Rick thought to himself, his mind running a million miles per hour. She was dead; Evelyn died forty years ago…he saw her die…he buried her. He knew that there were no others in any parallel universes….he has searched, he had checked…  

“Look what you two have done to my fucking wall!” The woman exclaimed, Rick continued to cough in shock.

The older man now refusing to look at the woman in front of him out of fear that he would see what he thought he had seen. It wasn’t like Rick Sanchez to be bashful, shy or even remotely bothered by people. He never spared enough fucks for them to really make any impact on his life at any moment.

“Sorry about your wall. D-Didn’t see it. Wasn’t looking -”Rick coughed and burped unattractively as he covered his face, not out of any sort of manners but out of sheer shock. Not wanting to meet the gaze of the woman in the black apron out of fear that she may recognise him. He had never been ashamed of his appearance until now…

The young woman seemed less than impressed with the display in front of her, turning to the younger male who staggered towards her desk she let out a gasp.

“Please don’t erupt over my…”

“Desk…” She groaned as she covered her eyes and lowered her head as the young boy proceeded to projectile vomit across her desk, covering all her paperwork with chunks of warm vomit and half masticated food which clung to the wall and slid down leaving a pile of sludge on top of the desk.

“Aww Jeez!”

[algeroth]

In truth, nudging was being practised by artful governments long before it was given a name. The pre-eminent example of that is smoking policy. The tobacco habit is highly addictive and deadly, so government could decide to make it illegal. Which would be a terrible idea, because a blanket ban would criminalise millions of otherwise law-abiding citizens and provide a massive opportunity for organised crime to create an underground market. So instead, successive governments have used the nudge. First, TV advertising of cigarettes was prohibited. Then, all advertising was banned. This was followed by a stop on the open display of cigarettes in shops. Now fags have to be wrapped in packaging plastered with pictures of horrible diseases. One of the best and cheapest contributors to the improvement of our nation’s health is the prohibition on smoking in public places, which was introduced by Tony Blair’s government. That decision tore apart his cabinet. Some ministers feared a furious backlash from the millions of voters who would no longer be able to puff away in pubs and restaurants. As it turned out, it was introduced with minimal fuss. Predicted pub riots by fuming smokers never materialised. You are part of a small and eccentric minority – and probably also a member of Ukip – if you still think it was a bad idea to end smoking in restaurants and pubs. You are part of a smaller, and frankly weird, minority if you think smoking should still be allowed on trains and planes, in cinemas and at football stadiums and on the London underground.

A big reason for this policy success is that it has gone with the grain of human desires. You’d expect that ban to be attractive to non-smokers. It has worked because it wasn’t opposed by smokers. Most nicotine addicts want to quit. Importantly, it wasn’t a total ban. You can still smoke, so long as you don’t mind going outside. That nudge has worked because it guides, rather than compels, folk to go in the right direction. Nudge doesn’t work when it loses touch with the human factor. A topical example is the trouble the government has got into with the introduction of universal credit. This simplification of the benefits system is founded on the excellent principle that work should always pay: no one should be worse off by deciding to take a job or put in more hours. The implementation is going wrong because it failed to take into account how lives are lived. People on low incomes can be a day’s pay away from not being able to put dinner on the table. So a delay of five weeks or more in paying the credit is an atrocious design fault. Charging up to 55p a minute for calls to the helpline was simply stupid, as ministers have belatedly realised.

This illustrates one of the downsides of nudge. It is highly dependent on the nudgers getting it right and we know that politicians and civil servants are also fallible. Just like other human beings, they miscalculate risks, prioritise short-term gratification over long-term achievement and can act irrationally. While technocrats quite often really do know what is good for us, sometimes they don’t, and even the best-intentioned can make bad mistakes. For years, the tax system was used to incentivise drivers to move away from petrol cars and towards diesel vehicles because experts declared diesel to be less harmful to health and the environment. That turned out to be a faulty nudge.

“Liberal paternalism”, the posh label for nudge, assumes that there is an elite that knows what is good for the citizenry. This idea – the establishment knows best – is precisely the one that significant numbers of voters have been rebelling against. One of the more powerful critiques of nudge is that it concentrates on the psychological manipulation of voters rather than properly educating them about choices, and the ultimate effect of this is to infantilise the citizenry.

Experience has shown that nudge is not the miracle cure for every political challenge. Some problems are just too big to be fixed by adjusting the “choice architecture”. Britain’s housing crisis is not solvable with a few tweaks to the tax system and the planning regime. That won’t be cracked without bolder and stronger measures. Not a gentle hand on the elbow, but a muscular kick up the arse. Nudge has some proved beneficial uses for governing, but it is not the answer to everything. Some things need the push and the shove.

[robin-hood-for-freedom]

I know this is old, and I actually did it a while back.  But I ran across it on Youtube recently, and I thought it was one of the more interesting/useful tests for privilege since it actually takes into account people’s experiences, rather than just declaring it based on what ‘groups’ they are in.  So I’m going to actually do what I should have done before and actually go through it an explain my answers.  

I am white:

Right off the bat, Yep.  Kind of hard to deny that.  

I have never been discriminated against because of my skin color:

Story time:  I had a job interview at a BBQ joint.  In fact one of the best in town.  The owner was black, as were most of the other employees.  When I met with the owner the first words out of his mouth were ‘So, what does a white boy like you know about bbq?’  I didnt get the job.  

Granted I cant definitively prove that his not hiring me was because i was white.  But lets reverse the roles here.  Suppose that a black man interviewed a white restaurant owner, and the very first words out of the owners mouth were ‘So what does a black guy like you know about italian food?’  I think we can all agree theres a bit of racism at play here.  

All of that is a very long winded way to say yes, I have.  

I have never been the only person of my race in a room

I sure have, multiple times.  

I have never been mocked for my accent:

I sure as fuck have.  When my dad first got out of the army I got mocked for having a ‘military’ accent(no, nobody called it that, but thats why), although I’v mostly lost that, I still get comments every time I talk to someone from outside of the northern Indiana/Michigian/Chicago area.  

It probably doesnt help that I have an absurdly high voice for a man.  

I have been told I’m attractive ‘for my race:’

Cant say I have

I have never been the victim of violence because of my race:

Nope

I have never been called a racial slur:

I have if you count ‘cracker’ and ‘mayo’ which I do.  

I have never been told I ‘sound white’

I have, but does it really count considering I AM white?  

A stranger has never asked to touch my hair, or asked if it was real:

No, thats never happened to me. 

I am heterosexual:

Yea, I guess.  

I have never lied about my sexuality

Cant say I have

I have never had to ‘come out’

No I have not.  

I have never doubted my parents acceptance of my sexuality:

My parents dont give a fuck.  

I have never been called a ‘fag’

I have actually, and in real life, not just by edgy internet trolls.

I have never been called a ‘dyke.’

Nope, never have.  

I have never been called a ‘fairy’ or other derogatory term for homosexuals

I’m assuming we’re not counting ‘fag?’  What about ‘cocksucker?’  I mean it would seem to refer to homosexuals, but its most often used as a general insult.  Does ‘gay’ count if its being used a derogatory manner?  

I’m probably overanalysing this, 

I have never tried to hide my sexuality:

True I havent.  

I am always comfortable with PDA with my partner in public:

Well no, not always.  I guess it also depends on how far we are talking too.  

I have never pretended to be ‘just friends’ with my significant other:

I have actually.  My parents didnt want me dating before I got a car, so when I was 14 I told them I was friends with a girl that I considered my girlfriend.  

I know thats probably not what the quizmakers had in mind, but fuck it, thats their problem, not mine.  

I have never been ostracized by my religion because of my sexuality:

No I have not.  

I have never been told I would ‘burn in hell’ for my sexual orientation

I guess it depends on how you look at it.  I mean I have been told I would burn in hell for having pre-marital sex.  But not simply for being heterosexual.

I’m gonna go ahead and say that doesnt count.  

I have never been told my sexuality is ‘just a phase’

Nope, thats never happened to me.  

I have never been violently threatened because of my sexuality:

I’v been violently threatened because people thought I was gay(even though I wasnt).  I’m gonna count that.  

I am a man:

I guess yea?  I mean I have a penis...

I feel comfortable with the gender I was born as

I mean I’v never felt uncomfortable with having a penis if thats what you are asking.  

I still identify as the gender I was born in:

I guess yea?  I mean I’v never really ‘identified’ as a man in any meaningful sense.  But I’v also never called myself anything else...

I have never tried to change my gender:

Nope.  Cant say I’v ever cared enough to bother.  

I make more money than my professional counterparts of a different gender.

I actually dont know any other female doughnut chefs.  When I worked as a head chef, the women I knew were making comparable pay to myself.  So no.  

I have never been denied an opportunity because of my gender:

Not that I’m aware of.  

I have never been catcalled:

I have actually.  Only once, but still....

I have never been sexually harassed or assaulted:

Sexually harassed, yes.  

I have never been raped

No I have not.  

I work in a salaried job

Not anymore I dont.  

My family and I have never lived below the poverty line

Oh yes we have.  

I dont have any student loans:

I dont.  But I have to question whether this is really a sign of ‘privilege’  Since the reason I dont isnt because mommy and daddy paid for my schooling(nor could they have), but because I didnt go to a full university, opting instead to go to a local community college.  Meaning I took on a lot less student debt.  

By this logic, somebody who never went to any higher education is even more privileged than me, since they’ll never have any student debt.  And I’m not sure thats entirely accurate  

I have never gone to bed hungry

I have, not very often, but yes.  

I have never been homeless

I have not.  

My parents pay some/all of my bills:

my parents dont pay shit for me.  

I dont rely on public transportation:

Yea I have my own car.  

I buy new clothes at least once a month:

No.  I mean, to be fair, its more out of lazyness/cheapness than inability, but still...

I have never done my taxes myself:

I still do my own taxes, what the fuck you talking about?

I have never felt poor:

Fuck yea I have.  

I have never had to worry about making rent:

Sure as hell have, on many, many occasions

I have never worked as a waiter, bartender, barista or salesperson

How the fuck did you miss cashier/customer service in this question?  I’v done that, but not any of those other specific jobs.  

I’v had unpaid internships:

Nope.  Never.  

I went to summer camp:

Once.  

I went to private school:

nope

I graduated high school

Yep.  

I went to an elite college:

Hell no.  See my point about student loans above

I graduated college:

Yep.  

My parents paid(at least some of) my tuition:

Nope.  

I had a car in high school:

For one year, until I wrecked it.  

I’v never had a roommate

Does a wife/girlfriend count?  probably not.  

I’ve always had cable:

I dont have cable now.  

I have traveled internationally:

Does living in Germany as part of a military family count?  Probably not.  

I’v never skipped a meal to save money:

I have.  Not very often, but yes.  

I dont know what ‘Sallie mae’ is

Isnt this just another way of asking about the student loan thing?

I spent spring breaks abroad:

My spring breaks have always consisted of sleeping in and playing way too many video games.  

I have frequent flier miles:

Nope

My parents are heterosexual:

Pretty sure.  I mean its always possible that one(or both) of them have just been REALLY deep in the closet or all these years.  

my parents are both alive:

Yep

My parents are still married:

I’m assuming you mean to each other.  But either way, yes.  

I do not any physical disabilities:

I have a rod in my leg where I broke it a few years back.  Still gives me pain and causes me to limp.  Its not really a big deal, especially compared to say, what my wife has, but I’m gonna count because why hte fuck not?

Also glasses.  I cant see shit without them

I dont have any social disabilities:

I mean, I’m EXTREMELY introverted, which can make social interactions difficult for me.  I dont know if that counts as a ‘disability.’  Eh, since i counted the last one, I’m not gonna count this one.

I do not have any learning disabilities:

I do not.  

I have never had an eating disorder:

I have not.  

I have never been depressed:

I’m assuming you mean clinically.  You’d have to be some sort of psychopath to have never been depressed in the non-clinical sense.  I’v been clinically depressed.  

I have never considered suicide:

I have actually.  I dont know if I was ever really serious about it.  But it has crossed my mind.  

I have never attempted suicide:

Thankfully I Have not.  

I have never taken medication for my mental health:

cant say I have.  

I can afford medication when/if I need it:

I have insurance that helps.  Theres no way in hell I could afford it without insurance.  

I have never been told I’m overweight or ‘too skinny’

Oh I’m overweight all right.  

I have never felt overweight or ‘too skinny’

Oh I know I’m overweight.  

I have never been shamed for my body type:

I sure as hell have.  

I consider myself to be physically attractive.  

I dont really think about it all that much myself.  I mean, my wife thinks I’m attractive and thats whats most important to me.  

I can afford a therapist.

I honestly have no idea, as I’v never had cause to look into it.  I dont think my insurance covers it.  

I’v used prescription drugs recreationaly:

Nope, not my thing.  

I’ve never had an addiction:

Does caffeine count?  I’m gonna say it does.  

I have never been shamed for my religious beliefs:

Oh I have.  You’d be surprised how much the ‘Jesus kids’ get mocked even in so-called flyover states

I’v never been violent threatened for my religious beliefs:

Do online  threats count? who am I kidding of course they do.  

I have been violently attacked for my religious beliefs:

Okay, thats never happened

There is a place of worship for my religion in my town:

I went ahead and said yes.  But if I’m being honest, there arent any churches that teach the type of theology I’v adopted over the years.  

I’v never lied about my ethnicity/religion as self defense:

No, I mean I have lied about them for trolling purposes.  But  thats not really the same thing.  

All my jobs have been accommodating of my religious practices:

Thats one thing that sucks about working resturant business.  I have to work every holiday.  

I am not nervous in airport security lines

I cant say how I feel in airport security lines.  Because I’v never been in one.  I didnt count it because the fact that I havent flown indicates to me a lack of privilege.  

I have never heard this statement: “ you have been randomly selected for secondary passport control”

I havent.  But I’m not really sure thats an indicator of privilege.  See my above answer.  

I have never been called a terrorist:

Well not personally.  But gamers and gamergaters generally have been called terrorists, even worse than Isis.  Its actually kind of surprising that nobody has singled me out to be honest.  

Nobody has ever tried to ‘save’ me because of my religious beliefs:

I actually have had people preach at me because I wasnt the ‘right kind’ of Christian.  

I have never been cyber-bullied for any of my identities:

I have actually

I wasnt bullied as a child for any of my identities:

I was actually

I have never tried to distance myself from any of my identities:

Cant say I’v consciously done so.  

I’v never been self-conscious of any of my identities:

I left this one and the next one off because they are too vague for me to give a concrete answer to.  

I feel privileged because of the identities I was born with

Cant say I do.  

And the final results are:

You live with 46 out of 100 points of privilege.

You’re not privileged at all. You grew up with an intersectional, complicated identity, and life never let you forget it. You’ve had your fair share of struggles, and you’ve worked hard to overcome them. We do not live in an ideal world and you had to learn that the hard way. It is not your responsibility to educate those with more advantages than you, but if you decide you want to, go ahead and send them this quiz. Hopefully it will help.

[tessatechaitea]

The Hellblazer #9

Is this a crystal ball that shows what's happening around it or just a reflection?

I'm not the only person beginning my composition by alienating a hefty percentage of potential readers.

Constantine has no real thematic reason to take a dump on comic book collectors on the first page but he sort of ties it up at the end by comparing collecting things to keeping a journal of experiences. And he's after a journal so there's the way into the story! Also he's following a flying, glowing trainer across the skies of Paris. You can tell it's Paris because the Eiffel Tower is big as life right there on the first page. You can kind of see a tiny piece of it on the stage-right-hand side of the above scan. John has tracked down the kid who stole the journal that might have the secret to killing Djinn in it with the help of a sexy woman named Sexy Sexytime. Did that sound like convincing French? I would use her real name but that would involve remembering it or actually looking at the comic book which would take less time than explaining why I called her Sexy Sexytime. I think her name was actually Misabel Lefuvque or something. She offers John some advice as she ditches him.

I'm sure there are some readers who know John is bisexual and don't know what fags are whose heads just exploded.

It seems John wants the journal because it has the location of the Djinn's home magic lamp. Was that racist? That was probably racist. I hope I didn't offend any Djinn-kin out there. If I were having sex with a Djinn-kin and they asked me to rub something vigorously, I'd walk out due to their lack of imagination. I would be all, "I will grant you three wishes if all of those wishes are to swallow a huge load of cum!" Do you like how in my fantasy, I deliver huge loads of cum? In reality, it would probably be a slight trickle due to all the masturbating I get up to. My friend Sony Tilva (no relation to the equipment manager for the Phoenix Coyotes, wink, wink!) once told a story about how he hadn't nutted for a long time before masturbating on his back so when he came, he gave himself an inadvertent facial. I hope his hockey buddies don't read this and judge him! Although knowing Tony ... I mean Sony! ... he's probably already told them all that story. Meanwhile in London, some political intrigue or something is happening. I think some guy insinuates Theresa May is a lizard person and that everybody who voted for Brexit might as well be living in the colonies.

Here's a bit for the nerds and also for the people who are halfway intelligent enough to score reasonably well on Jeopardy.

John and Mercury eventually get an address leading them to the journal. What they don't realize is that Misabel made sure they received that address. So I'm guessing the journal isn't actually there. Unless the French translation of "journal" is "trap." The Ranking! No change! This is a monthly and I don't always write detailed commentaries about it, so I might be a little confused by some of the story. And it's not helping that I didn't really write much of anything about the part that I'm a bit confused about! The Djinni at the Tate Club had some guy high up in May's cabinet (or her personal assistant (or the person in charge of telling her what the real powers want done)) is forced to face the truth of his life: the "real power" behind it all is just a guy pretending to be Jesus Christ. So the Djinni has him kill Pseudo Jesus to prove his loyalty to the Djinn. No the Djinn control London! Or something. But they still need to stop Constantine before he finds Abby and completely fucks up their plans. I don't know why they need Abby but I guess The Rot is essential to their plans of world domination.

[leesbookkeeping]

Cashflow & Covid

As the government starts to relax lockdown rules many of my businesses are beginning to contemplate a return to work. They are under no illusions that this will be a return to how things were, and it is over these next months that we will see the true financial battle against the cost of covid and I fear there will be casualties.

The government acted swiftly with its support packages and whilst they will have not been all things to all people, they have certainly been a sticking plaster to the wound on our economy inflicted by the virus. The support measures have been at unprecedented levels but cannot continue indefinitely and many already have a weather eye on potential future tax burdens to pay for the costs. Mix this in with a huge does of uncertainty and you have the problem faced by business owners.

The grants have been given and are being utilised to stem the cash haemorrhage. Where business feel they can, loans have been drawn down and taxes have been side-lined to build a war chest to help with future cashflow.

And it is cashflow where attention should now be turned. With my larger clients all using online software and frequent support, their historic books are virtually up to date, so they have a clear idea of where they have been. What they do not have is a good idea of where they are going and this is where a cashflow forecast comes in. There are plenty of online add on cashflow apps such as Concur or Fluidly and indeed Quickbooks is currently Beta testing its own interlinked cashflow system. There is nothing wrong with an excel spreadsheet, but I would urge against the ‘back of a fag packet’ as handwritten plan can’t be flexible. The most important thing to do is HAVE a cashflow plan.

A good cashflow forecast should be a living document used to run what if scenarios and the current common what ifs are -

·         What if footflow is down by X percent due to fears of virus returning?

·         Will customers return from newly acquired online habits?

·         What if capacity is reduced to maintain social distancing?

·         How many staff do I need to run at new levels?

·         What if trading never returns to sufficient levels?

·         Do I still need an office if staff can work from home?

·         What if I diversify, change the way I work to my advantage?

Each of these questions and more will have an impact on the business. The only thing we can be sure of is that to survive a business will need to adapt the way it operates on a frequent basis in tune with what is happening on the street. Winding down of the furlough scheme, delays in further lockdown relaxation or even the need for local lockdowns are all considerations. All businesses currently considering how to reopen will be balancing ethical choices with financial outcomes. I cannot help with the moral choices but now is the time to engage with your bookkeeper or accountant to plan at least in the short-term. Hope is not a plan, but a plan can give you hope. Early intervention, change and adapting could be the key to survival.

[vsplusonline]

Sensex down by 988 points, Nifty below 11,700 on Union Budget day

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/sensex-down-by-988-points-nifty-below-11700-on-union-budget-day/

Sensex down by 988 points, Nifty below 11,700 on Union Budget day

If the stock market reaction is anything to go by, then the Union Budget 2020-21 has certainly not lived up to its expectations. The benchmark Sensex nosedived nearly 1,100 points during intra-day trades as market participants felt that the government has not taken concrete steps to revive the slowing economy.

The 30-share Sensex, which was trading around 100 points higher before the finance minister began her speech, erased all its gains and dipped in the red even as the budget proposed removal of dividend distribution tax (DDT) for companies and lower income tax regime for individuals who forego the existing exemptions.

At the fag end of the trading session, the Sensex fell below the psychological level to 40,000 to touch a low of 39,631.24, a fall of 1,092.25 points. The barometer settled the day at 39,735.53, shedding 987.96 points or 2.43%.

The broader Nifty ended the day at 11,661.85, down 300.25 points or 2.51%.

“Market expectations were high on capital market reforms which have not materialised and to that extent there could be some near term disappointment,” said Jaideep Hansraj, Managing Director & Chief Executive Officer, Kotak Securities.

While the biggest loser among the Sensex pack was ITC, which lost nearly 7%, financials witnessed across the board selling with heavyweights like HDFC, State Bank of India, ICICI Bank, Axis Bank and HDFC Bank all losing significant ground on Saturday.

Interestingly, stocks of listed insurance entities lost heavy ground as market was abuzz with talks that the new income tax regime that individuals can opt for by foregoing the existing deductions could impact the sales of insurance products that are typically taken for tax saving purposes.

While the shares of ICICI Prudential Life lost nearly 11%, SBI Life Insurance was down a little over 10%. Even HDFC Life Insurance Life ended the day 6% lower.

“Though the abolition of dividend distribution tax (DDT) looks like a positive from this budget, it still addresses only the supply side and not the demand side,” said Dharmesh Kant, Head – Retail Research, India Nivesh.

“There is little or rather nothing in the budget which can boost consumption. The markets which were already reeling under the pressure of the coronavirus attack will further sink owing to an insipid budget,” he added.

More importantly, foreign portfolio investors (FPIs) for whom the government has increased the investment limit in corporate bonds were net sellers in equities on Saturday at nearly Rs.1,200 crore.

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[chrysaliseuro2019]

On the Road Again

After a pleasant three days in Kiato we decided to head to the medieval town of Dimitsana. A couple of hours drive though would be quite a focussed one as we were heading for the mountains. Some around the 1500-2000 metre mark. Plenty of hills and switchbacks which was as it turned out. We had a slow start being night owls so left our apartment around 11.00am. First thing was a top up of petrol. This was a bit of a fright as price around $2.60/litre. Luckily we have an economic car. Of course that's just the going price and nothing you can do about it if you want the flexibility of the car. We had two choices of route, one via freeway and the other local roads. Opted for the local roads. Pretty soon we were heading upwards and occasionally downwards then back up again. Prolific numbers of olive trees, plenty of vineyards and sleepy hollow villages that appeared uninhabited. The odd larger town which always seemed characterful with its cafes which invariably had several older gents sitting outside watching the world go by, chewing the fat and thinking heaven knows what. One of the things that seems to characterise Greece is older men and more occasionally older women clustered outside cafes and tavernas or just sitting on their porches, balconies and in their gardens - watching and chatting. From early in the morning till late at night. As you approach they watch you. If you nod to them or say Yassas (hello) they will respond but rarely do they instigate. It's all very inscrutable. I want to know what they are thinking. It's disappointing really that language is such a barrier especially in more domestic destinations such as Kiato where English speaking is rare and certainly my Greek vocabulary doesn't get beyond hello and thank you - ooh I forgot souvlaki. I suppose hello me old souvlaki would not go down too well but it would be great to break the ice, sit down and have a natter about what's troubling them. I'm guessing that taxes, the price of fags (there's still a lot of smoking here, perhaps a little less tax paying), global warming might be high up there. It's a pretty small world. Anyway we pressed on on our journey through some pretty dramatic countryside through the mountains with fantastic views on all sides. We noticed when we came to towns that the Greek version of the "Pink Batt" policy must be in place. Everywhere there seemed to be brand new iridescent red roofs being put up. These contrasted with the old stone walls supporting them but presumably are the most effective way to preserve old buildings. Around 1.30 we fancied lunch and stopped off at a small town (Kandila) to look for refreshments. We missed the main turning in towards town so followed our nose via the only other turning down some very windy and narrow streets to reach the town proper. Why take the easy route? This place was sleepy hollow. As ever temperature 30+. We parked up in front of a taverna but there seemed to be another 3-4 in town. Who is patronising them? As there were two men and a dog there? We went into one where they could give us a meal but it sounded more than we wanted - the chicken stew that I think the owners were having for lunch/ dinner. Someone was summoned out of the local mini market to speak English to us and explain this. All very convivial. The suggestion was to head to the coffee bar down the road which should be able to deliver a toasted sandwich which we were after. Wasn't far and it seemed more like a taverna though again no English so we were back to square one. Plenty of efforts to explain what we were after but the solution was to call someone up who spoke English, put Liz on the phone and then toasted cheese and tomato toasted sandwich was communicated to our new hosts with much knowledgeable nodding. Tactical error we asked for two. When they arrived they would have fed the Prussian army for two days. Did the trick though and we sat outside in the shade gazing down the tranquil street with a couple of cokes. I had brought a couple of kangaroo design ink stamps the sort that kids press onto their arm and we donated one to the delightful little girl who was daughter of the landlady. It was all pretty pleasant and they donated a couple of cokes to us as a thank you. Nothing too much but just one of those nice and slightly amusing touch bases with complete strangers which these environments encourage. We pressed on to Dimitsana through more dramatic and very green high country arriving around 3.00pm. We had no other plans for the day other than to chill a bit and check out Dimitsana but first prob was to find the hotel we had booked, the "Enastron". Google told us which laneway it was in so we parked up and Liz went looking. No luck. I foraged a bit too. No luck. Up some steps at the top of a narrow lane an unusual incident was happening. Some tourists (English or Aussie we weren't sure) had driven their car over the top step of a series of steps. The front was now wedged over that step resting on its axle. Several guys were attempting to lift the front two wheels back over the step while one guy sat in the driver's seat and revved in reverse madly. To assist they placed several large rocks against the steps to aid the process of the front wheels going back up. Problem was once they started revving and reversing the front wheel crushed some of the rocks and sent them flying and Liz was very lucky to not have one hit her. It landed within a couple of metres and was probably 20 cms long and quite dense. Would have caused some damage if it hit her. Luckily for the tourists the lads got the car back over the step and even more lucky no casualties. We still couldn't find the hotel but after asking some locals they indicated that it was right where Liz had been watching the car incident in fact the flying rock was virtually outside the front door. Problem was the sign was in Greek so she had wandered past several times without being able to identify it. This is a 3 room hotel so though 24 hour front desk availability it's not manned 24 hours (not much point with 3 guests) and a note was pinned to the door with a number to call. 10 mins later we were in. Charming and very urbane host Dimitri who welcomed us very generously. Delightful place. Score 9.8 out of 10 on Booking.com, great host, great room with a balcony and good bathroom and surprisingly reasonable. We settled down, had showers and chilled for a while and then headed out to look around town and have a refreshing drink - much needed. Town is small and seems mostly cafes and tavernas with a few knick knack shops. It's perched high with great views and the architecture is quite old being a medieval though that seems like yesterday in this part of the world with Ancient Greek history pervasive. We walked to the top of town through some very narrow laneways and views, very picturesque. A number of churches and plenty of other attractive buildings. I also liked the soccer pitch which we could see at a distance perched at least 1500 metres up. Have to say though that the surface looked like gravel from afar which Liz confirmed a day or so later. Not inviting to fall over on and the goalies must concede a lot of goals or spend their days covered in gravel rash or dress up like Michelin man which is not really conducive to shot stopping. Finally time for a drink and we stopped at a local taverna at a table outside. A few tourists in town but when we arrived at the pub we seemed to be the only non Greek speakers. Certainly out the front facing the street our co-patrons were all locals. This meant that a variety of people pulled up in their cars or trucks/Utes and carried on conversations from the driver's seat with others sitting at tables out front. One minute we had a view up the street the next there was a smelly ute in front of us. All part of the local colour. They might get a coffee to take away or park up and join in. In due course the local priest rolled up in his robes, a very dapper and handsome guy who also spoke pretty good English though he was more interested in chatting to his parishioners. The priest seemed to be on the coffee, nothing alcoholic. After a pleasant hour it was time for dinner. Our host had recommended a restaurant which overlooked one side of the valley and we headed there. Menu was classic Greek with plenty of meat. We settled for the lamb chops and Greek salad and sampled various wines - rose, red, white. All pretty ordinary. Poor Liz is struggling to find much she can drink apart from the one vodka and tonic before she has to up stumps in case of migraine and many tavernas don't stock vodka and of those that do some may not stock tonic. Even I, with, shall we say, my more accommodating, alright, less discerning palate am struggling with the local plonk. How do they like this stuff? The white is pretty sweet and the rose and red have been well "rough". Now, we haven't gone for the bottles of wine given Liz can't drink more than one glass so it's been wine by the glass ie house wine - but still. Anyway food has been fantastic. Lamb chops were voluminous in number and we just had a half serve. Liz was in her element, the chops were picked up there was finger licking and not a skerrick left on the bone at the end. I was more circumspect in my Pommie way and cut bits off here and tentatively but demolished large quantities of bread and Greek salad with some gusto, if I say so myself. You can take the girl and boy out of their respective countries but you can't necessarily change their preferences. Headed home and watched England lose another World Cup semi final. This time to the USA at the women's World Cup. Very painful though fantastic game. It was a travel and lay day really but we really enjoyed the nondescriptness of it laced with the Greek way of doing things.

[gprr-news-blog]

OooOooI know everyone hates Trump and thinks all he does is lie to the American people but have you seen his tweets? Not only are they always blunt and straight to the point but they reek of honesty. His own party wishes he would lie more just so they can continue being sleezebags. Furthermore, have you ever met a New Yorker? They aren't exactly PC to say the least... The American people are bullying a man that is trying his best and jumping behind any lame reason to justify their hatred for a man that isn't any worse than any of you. When you say he represents all of us and should be better than he is, you should look in a mirror and ask yourself if you are any better than him. The only confirmed allegation against him is that he had a prostitute 11 yrs ago. Yet you get your news from a media that blows their "findings" out of proportion and constantly forget to mention when they are wrong when they know they are wrong for guessing wtf he do. Stop being a sore loser and let the man finish his fucking presidency without you constantly undermining his position with THE most petty bullshit. A child could teach you all a lesson on treating people with respect yet us fags, trans and liberal pussies demand it like we shouldn't have to fight for our right. OUR WHOLE EXISTENCE HAVE BEEN A GOSH DAMN FIGHT AND YOU ARE ALL COMPLAINING LIKE A LIL BITCH BECAUSE YOU WANTED A WOMAN THAT ISN'T FIT TO RUN HER OWN STATE OF ARKANSAS LET ALONE THE GOD BLESSED UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

This has been a message from your local punk rock fag Republican asking you all to open your fucking eyes and stop being to selfish to see the needs of your country over your own, to lazy to pay for your own college, medicine, rent, and food, and please for the love of god stop trying to give all these resources that our own citizens need to fucking immigrants who have no allegiance to America and can take advantage of us and leave. I am from a lower class, immigrant family and have been proud to not only pay our taxes but contribute to our country, like volunteering to feed the homeless even when we had to turn our power off for the month.

Get off your ass and wake the fuck up America

This has been gprr news

[meditationsinausterity]

Imagine I'd managed to upload this yesterday

When I had a blog in previous incarnations i'd always include a feature where I'd do a weekly roundup of things i was grateful for in my life. I believe it was due to a brief fixation with Gala Darling before she went full lifecoach and I mentally called closing time on it (I have so much to say on the cult of lifestyle and its wilful economic blindness and self-servitude, but that's for another day), but I have found that consciously thinking about what things in my life I am grateful for does allow me to carry on, even when things are bleak, so I've been doing it in my diary ever since. It's since been bought to my attention in my support sessions that actually, cultivating the practice of actively looking for the good things does build that mental muscle significantly, and makes it much easier to channel it in the dark times. I'd go so far as to say that was true - i'm not exactly super-ripped positivity wise, but I definitely have a strong enough bright-side seeking instinct to keep it up in the face of the dark longer than most. And the more I do it, and the more often I do it, the stronger that will be.

Even focusing on tiny things can help; it reminds me of Pollyanna, that classic children's novel (and amazing film to watch at christmas when you're comatose on stuffing and ill-advised liqueurs). She gets crutches instead of a doll for christmas from the mission, and her response is to thank God that she doesn't need them. Even when that bitch does need them she keeps her head up and looks on the bright side. True optimism in the face of life kicking you in the dick. as a paid up atheist I personally would thank Fuck, because I can see, believe, and feel a fuck; so in that spirit, I present to you 'Thank Fuck It's Monday', my way of starting each week on a note of positive review of the previous one.

Enough preamble; this is what I have loved this week:

+Getting back into my city

I may have previously mentioned that my life was torn between being overworked through choice, and comatosely drinking wine on the sofa i slept on? Not so much right now. I've had a lot of appointments for this week, none of them particularly exciting or appealing, since they were all job centre and finance related, but I have walked a great deal, and seen a great deal. It reminds me very much of when I first moved to London and i started to get to grips with the geography of the city, but I lived in Portsmouth ten years ago, so a lot of my wanders have the superimposition of nostalgia stamped on them. There is also something about being poor enough to not be an active consumer, and therefore participant, in a city, that makes you stop to take notice of all the things that are visually beautiful, or even just distinctive, about a place as you walk through it. It's all a bit Baudelaire, the whole man of, but apart from, the crowd vibe.  I had a moment while I was waiting for everything to open on Friday morning, where I sat reading my book in a sun-soaked Guildhall square, and I remembered, simultaneously: graduating on the steps and having a picture with my best friend Dan; but also, wandering through it looking for my first linguistic techniques lecture; and also, having my first argument with my then-boyfriend by the modernist steps up to the council office. All this early twenties nostalgia was all superimposed with how lovely the sun looked hitting the square, and how quiet and beautiful it all was at half past eight in the morning. It's not quite the same as the beauty of initial discovery (which is always tinged with anxiety, if my memory serves me correctly), but I am learning to appreciate the beauty of rediscovery for what it is, and realize I've lived a rich and characterful life that i should appreciate against the backdrop of my rich and characterful city.

+Early mornings

I am not a devotee of the early morning rise. I used to say so very plainly at work when I was running pubs in London, and yet I was always the favourite of cleaners and delivery drivers because I'd be bright and enthusiastic when they came in to see me on an opening shift. I had a florist when I worked in Highgate who would give me the clippings from what he'd done in the bar because I was alert enough to chat to him and ask questions about the beautiful blooms every morning, and I never really thought much of it. When I quit that job he had to be reassured there was no funny business before he'd continue to florally arrange.

It's because I've been so used to being a sluggish, puffy faced witch in the morning that I'd allow myself an hour to get ready, plus another hour for travel, plus any leftover time at work to drink coffee and smoke fags, and get ahead. All to pre-empt any lateness anxieties (I get them big-time) and any curveballs that might come my way that could put a crimp in me bossing it for the day. I no longer have that structure to my day of needing to be somewhere and do something at a certain time, but I'm finding that with or without the need to, I am getting up early in the morning, making my bed, tidying shit up, and then cracking on with a self-imposed routine . I realized it, the other day when I was in bed with someone else, on their day off, and was taking one myself; I woke up alert and thoughtful and ready, and promptly moved myself to the kitchen where I mainlined coffee, wrote fuckloads in my journal and read Rosamond Lehmann until I was lethargic enough to not be an annoyance in the bed. I'm starting to ponder if actually I've only ever not been a morning person before because i am a late-shift worker with a tendency toward anxiety insomnia, since waking up and cracking on with things is making me feel far better about my day than I thought it ever would.

+The surprising efficiency and politeness of British bureaucracy

Now, I've mentioned my previous tabloid and 'glorious working class' related shame around job centre visits. Industrial revolution level refusal of charity plus a dominant nature of outrage and shame is powerful, make no mistake. Not to mention, so many people I know have told me horror stories about their personal experiences, or other applicants (I can't say I necessarily condone this technique, it smacks of trying to create shame). I was nervous, and I was led to expect the worst of my experience in the buildup. I channelled my inner Pollyanna to get there (while musing on shame and guilt as we've read) and sat in the queue scribbling on my copy of Cures For Love by Stendhal. I have to admit I was a little disheartened initially when I saw a nervously friendly German man in front of me get absolutely shut down by the greeting staff who refused to respond to his attempts to humanize his experience by saying things like 'I don't know if you remember me' into a wall of efficient silence. It made me really unhappy that he was attempting to be seen and recognized as a human and was met with a response of 'you're on the list yeah, go here'. But i ended up sat next to him on a functional yet cheerful sofa,and we had a conversation about philosophy as a whole and why I liked Stendhal as opposed to Kant (I will take what i can get, alright?). He remembered everybody's name and was as visibly nervous and uncomfortable with the whole experience as me. I'm sorry I never got his name before he chipped off to his appointment but it was a relief to feel like somebody else like there was like me; not comfortable despite years of tax and working, but also determined to be seen as a person because otherwise how do you exist? My fears were alleviated when I met my advisor, and she helped me with identification protocol, processed my claim, and spoke to me about clothes and fashion after an indepth conversation about retail. She was wearing a stunning victorian blouse and I asked her where it was from, and when she said the h&m sale I knew she was my girl. I went back the next day to see her with the supporting documents she'd asked me for and it was literally like we were mates, not like she'd bent over backwards for me to get my documents processed super quickly, which she absolutely had. I'm calling fie on stories about the job centre; you may not like to have to be there very much but there are people there who are on the level and see who you are. I have left there feeling very lifted even when I arrived home rain soaked and frozen.

Honorary mentions:

Hearing songs I forgot I loved everywhere and it making me remember all the times that were good in my life - kissing someone briefly in a lift to say bye and thinking i might have been too bold but hearing them toot me on their way to work and nearly bursting - instant coffee - oranges in all their forms - seeing a thereapeutic technique (reaching out to people when you're not down to make you more adept at it when you are) pay off to give you a richer life - dalston drinks cherryade - listening to the radio again and remembering how much I genuinely love music - being able to cut my own hair and look good - tinned fish in all its forms - honest and frank conversations that needed to be had - being somewhat horrendous at video games but overcompensating by being a prick - getting slowly back to a skincare regime - the phrase 'you ate the same amount as me' - remembering I can make gravy the way I used to - getting my birth certificate - discovering things I want to see and do in my hood - having and maintaing excellent nails - hair oil in any form - Dan who works for LG and his hilarious service style - sleeping like a dead person and waking up feeling good.