The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #42

Bobby 47

Jul 8, 2015

Corporate abuse of disabled people needn’t sound the death knell for your career

This, beyond any doubt, is the finest piece of work I’ve ever read. Remarkably good and the only downside to it all is; Cardin will never again be able to match or even surpass this magnificent body of work that’ll have Fowler and the rest of them muttering, ‘who will rid me of this turbulent blogger.’
I’d happily add to it, but I can’t. It’s pointless trying. Congratulations Paul. Very, very well done.


Bobby 47

Jul 2, 2015

Council leader sells off strategic green space, claims he’s rescued it for us …but what happened next?

What is it about ‘us’, the people, the ones who ultimately fund and fuel this slavish obedience to ‘big commercial business’ that allows ‘them’ to do these things to us without any obvious sanctions aimed in their direction when and after bad arrangements are made and are clearly not in the interests of people, but very obviously in the interests of the asset strippers and the developers. Why does it happen. Why can it happen?
You’d think, after what ‘they’ did to us and our Country post 2008, something may have changed that made ‘us’ conclude, ‘No. Not in our name. We ain’t doing that’. Sadly, the opposite appears to be the case. The sheer scale of the asset stripping and the willing compliance by bloody those we voted to protect us appears to have actually increased. And worse, nowadays, once they’ve chosen the path and route on which they and only they wish to travel, they completely ignore us, and do whatever it is they’ve been directed to do by those that will benefit financially from the outcome of the aforementioned asset stripping.
It surely can’t be just them, these oily money grabbing bastards that hold sway over all of us! There has to be something that’s directly linked to ‘us’ that allows this social destruction for commercial gain to take place. God only bloody knows what it is about ‘us’ that’s at fault here, but there must be something that tells Councillor Davies and his colleagues that ‘this lot are as dull as ditch water. Fuck Um. Let’s just do it and damn the consequences’!
I mean, they take an area, a lovely green space place that generations of people have enjoyed, sell it or lease it for two hundred and fifty years to some ‘suit’ who’ll never walk the streets of your home, allow it to be flattened and sanction the trees to be felled and then you tell them, ‘we’ve done you all a huge bloody favour. We’ve saved you millions and created you a few hundred low paid, zero hour contract jobs that’ll allow your kids to serve me a helping of chips, a bloody bread roll and a rotten bloody burger that’ll sustain you through the agony and ordeal of all the other shit that’s languishing in the pipeline and will be tipped over your bloody heads once you’ve all calmed down and recovered from the fond memories you once held for that silly little green space.’
That’s pretty much it. That’s all it is. Nothing else! Bloody greed and an overwhelming need and desire by Council Officers and Council elected leaders to do whatever is required to serve this fiscal monument to human stupidity that sees them get bloody richer and the people getting bloody poorer, without, may I bloody add, the golden opportunity to sit beneath a tree and enjoy a picnic meal with the family.
It’s truly desperate. Thoroughly depressing and there seems little we can do to halt the slide.



Bobby 47

Apr 22, 2015

What happened when I Googled “Council CEO passionate”? I got a horror show…

Bloody passionate! We all know what the real meaning of passionate is. We all do. It’s no mystery to us who live in the real world where blue sky thinking, sound bites and pointless gimmicks play no part in our mind numbingly boring lives that see us scramble from one month to another hopeful that we may just avoid increasing our personal debt and the Constable doesn’t catch us speeding two miles above thirty that’ll mean, to avoid the penalty points, we’ve all got trudge down to some Industrial Hut and sit there for half a bloody day listening to two retired Police Officers passionately dropping unboiled eggs on the floor howling, this is the wee infant child you’ve flattened and killed you evil bastard of a reckless driver.
Passionate my neighbours left testicle! I know what passionate is and its bugger all to do with Eric’s use of the word. My first introduction to this delightful expression, ‘I am very passionate’ was the blessed day my Latin teacher, a wonderful and beautiful woman kept me behind after the lesson because I’d been playing with my genitals, pulled me pants down, mounted me and rode me rotten upon a chalk covered table. And, at the conclusion of this violation, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, ‘my God what a passionate experience that was’. And thank God it happened I say because that was the first time in my adolescent life that I became familiar with the word ‘passion’.
I mean, presumably when Eric applied for the job of CEO upon the Wirral he must have been up against others equally as qualified as him. Clearly, nowadays within public service they must ultimately judge the candidates for the job on how passionate they are, can become or could become if ever they were made the winner of the contest. In Gods name, what must they have to do to demonstrate how bloody passionate they are?
Clearly, when you are one of several applicants and you know, you just know it in your bones that you’ve gotta ‘out passion’ your opponents you must have to put personal pride and dignity to one side and perform like a demented nutter displaying the full range of your abilities to display just how passionate you are capable of becoming whenever they slide you a sheet of paper that contains three paragraphs of text that explain why a thousand paper clips were returned to the source supplier because they weren’t up to the job of holding together receipts and invoices for a thousand taxi journeys made by Councillors who didn’t fancy getting clubbed to death by concerned ratepayers who’d gathered outside the Town Hall desperate to start the culling.
Whatever it was that won Eric this job, it was nothing at all to do with providing good service and good value for money to the rate paying people of the Wirral. It was, beyond any doubt in my mind, entirely about his demonstration of being passionate. God only knows what indignities that man subjected himself to and how many times he howled, ‘don’t pull me pants up yet. I’m having the time of me life bent over this oak table and I never want it to end’.


Wirral Residents Association


JOIN US at: wirralinittogether@proton.me


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #41

Bobby 47

Nov 5, 2015

Halloween Special : Haunted

God above! I had no idea. They both look so dreadfully poorly. How on earth did Wirral Leaks manage to get these two telling images that do a great deal to demonstrate what happens to your face following demonic possession. Hats off to The Leaks I say. You don’t capture photographic images like these without patience and a fair measure of good fortune.
Poor bastards I say! Course, there’s no telling who’s possessed by what. You simply can’t say. Some fool with limited knowledge might take a stab at the answer and name the demon that’s contorted the face of Councillor Davies, but it’d be a guess and nothing but a guess.
My view is it’ll be both the Incubus and the Succubus. Not together mind. These two demonic spirits only ever take a host body separately. By the looks of Frank, I’d say it’s the Incubus but it’d be a guess based only on my past involvement with the Ouija Board when I summoned up the spirit of my late wife in an effort to discover where the rotten old bag had hidden me porn collection.
Mind, Councillor Davies looks equally bewildered doesn’t he. Just look at his teeth. That’s the work of the Succubus. I’m sure of it. You don’t get teeth like that if you’ve encounter the Incubus. It’ll be the Succubus. I’m certain of it. This dreadful demonic spirit is noted for attacking and buggering up the dental structure of the upper and lower jaws, hence the ‘suck’ part of its terrible name. Mind, quite why it’s fixated upon buggering up the teeth is beyond me.
No! All in all you’ve gotta take your hat off to The Leaks who once again have produced a remarkable piece of investigative reporting highlighting the dark forces that haunt Wirral BC.


Bobby 47

Aug 24, 2015

Corbyn supporters banned from voting in the Labour leadership election #LabourPurge

Me? I’ve got no problem at all in returning to the Labour Party I once knew, voting for them and Corbyn in the next General Election and being cognisant that Labour won’t win power is of no concern to me.
Absolutely no problem at all. In fact, stripped of the window dressing, tempting chewy bites for disillusioned Tories, no make up and no place for the ‘Far Away Eyes’ that bloody Blair and his disciples have shoved down our throats for so bloody long, I look forward to my old party being representative of working people who’ve been let down, lied to and deceived by a form of politics that prostituted the good name of Labour.
As the song goes, ‘just gimmee some truth’. That’s more than good enough for me, and in Mr Corbyn, it’s highly likely and possibly inevitable that we’ll be given the truth without the accompanying tears, sound bites, gimmicks and pointless drivel that’s brought everyone to a place of hope, intolerance to rubbish and a belief that ‘things can only get better’ and there must be something better than Blair and his legacy that’s given us Burnham, Kendall and bloody Mrs Balls.


Bobby 47

Jul 10, 2015

Brook appear to be lying low re: Mike Fowler / foul abuse

Well, that’s it isn’t it. The end result is now inevitable for Mike Fowler. I mean, let’s face it, there’s only one winner and one outcome because Cardin ain’t going to let go. Once he bites, the jaws lock and the recipient either drags himself and Cardin around endlessly and without any respite, or Mike acquires a fifty thousand pound bomb, lugs it up the Wirral and drops it upon Cardin’s head.
Course, that’s excluding the real chance that Mike will be stopped by the Constable and asked, ‘why are you in possession of a fifty thousand pound bomb’. It’s a knotty conundrum for this charity worker who now has his mind set on dealing with The Syphilis and The Gonnarhea, both equally dreadful diseases that I’d rather not be introduced to and infected with thank you very much.
Thinking about it, and I don’t see why I shouldn’t, isn’t it a noble thing to do. Leave Wirral Council with a great big wedge of public money after wrongdoing had been exposed and then giving your services, your life and future aspirations over to the pursuit of fighting the Syphilis and other Sexually Transmitted Diseases that blight the lives of many.
It’s not unlike the old medieval times when, after being shamed, they’d all fly off to a Monastery and devote their time to getting buggered on the hour and every hour by the highly sexed and promiscuous Abbot and praying to God. I think this move to the Charity sector is his way of atoning for the misappropriation of all that money from all those people who were so easily ripped off.
No! There’s no happy ending here. Not for Mike. Quite frankly I wouldn’t even bother with the fifty thousand pound bomb. Great bulky things that present so many logistic problems. How to acquire it for a starters? There’s few available on the open market. How to get it hoisted high enough above Cardin and then have enough skill and ability to get him to stand still beneath it enabling you to drop it on his head and end the misery. Difficult isn’t it!
You see! Nothing is straightforward and easily resolved for Mike. In fact, thinking about it, and Mike wants to explore this whole ‘getting rid of Cardin’ thingy, then I’m more than happy to meet him and painstakingly discuss all his available options but I’ll tell him straight now, every single suggestion that I put forward will involve the chance, and it’s a big one, that if Mike is found out by the Constable, he’ll certainly be required to serve a lengthy custodial sentence.
It’s up to Mike. I’m here if he wants me.


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Discussing ‘Climate, The Movie’ with Tom Nelson | UKColumn

https://www.ukcolumn.org/video/discussing-climate-the-movie-with-tom-nelson

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I Funded My Documentary Without Banks or Debt! #CultDAO

https://pinecast.com/listen/4300fa3a-3249-4abe-a9c0-01f723a183d1.mp3 Documentary film maker Derrick Broze recently crowdfunded to complete his 17-part docu-series, The Pyramid of Power. He used traditional crowdfunding AND collaborated with a new revolutionary project known as Cult DAO which is dedicated to fighting against centralization and funding revolutionary projects without banks! Derrick talks with CultDAO supporter Kenny to learn more about…

I Funded My Documentary Without Banks or Debt! #CultDAO
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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Post #40


bobby47

Jul 15, 2016

Private Eye reminds us of Angela Eagle’s highly dubious origins

Thank you Paul. I do appreciate your kind and encouraging supportive words. I am also encouraged and heartened by the recent response from the local Constabulary who’ve studied this case and its modus operandi and concluded, ‘this is the work of a criminal’ which hopefully excludes me from their list of suspects.
Police work is a fascinating science Paul. To you and I, we see a shattered pane of glass, but to the Police, they see and note fascinating small details that they use to build up a profile of the one who hurled the brick smashing Angela’s window.
The local Police Commander charged with finding the culprit told me in an unguarded moment that the offender definitely had either one or two legs. Apparently, when they visited the scene after Angela phoned in and said, ‘some twat has bust me bloody window’, they noted that the culprit wasn’t there, giving them their first solid clue that had the offender got no legs he’d have been present at the scene. Whereas, because the culprit wasn’t sat there waiting for the Police, the culprit must have had at least one leg or possibly two to enable them to walk, run or even hop away.
As we speak Paul, the Police are adding and building to their criminal profile that gives the local Commander the confidence to say, ‘we are behind him. Sadly, at the moment many miles or even years behind him but, with the help of our Partner Agencies we are determined to stop the rest of Angela’s Windows getting smashed by this criminal who has either one or two legs’.



bobby47

Jul 14, 2016

Private Eye reminds us of Angela Eagle’s highly dubious origins

Well it wasn’t me who smashed her window and I’ll be damned if I go out of my way again to say it wasn’t me. Quite simply, I didn’t do it and no amount of cunning and guile that the Constable might employ to find the culprit or decide to pin it all on me because I’m an easy target, will get me to roll over, throw me hands up and say I did it.
I bloody didn’t do it. I was miles away at the time. Not that I know the time when the throwing took place and it wasn’t me who lumped that house brick through Angela’s window. Not that I know it was a house brick. I don’t. It could have been anything that was large enough and strong enough to shatter its glass and just because I’ve mentioned house brick, and it subsequently turns out that it was in fact a house brick that did the smashing, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I did it, albeit, the more I comment and the deeper I dig I do appreciate that folks out there might conclude, ‘this bastard bust the window’.
Frankly, other than trying to defend myself and stop my good name being dragged through the Wallesey mud, with hindsight, it’s probably been a waste of my time trying to distance myself from the whole thing that’s resulted in this pane of shattered glass because. Thinking more about it and considering all the circumstances, I wish I’d not bloody bothered to visit and post this on Cardin’s blog.


bobby47

Jul 9, 2016

Tory Election Expenses – Electoral Commission Witness Statement

Off topic I know, but the more I read, the more I learn and the closer I edge toward my headstone that’ll read, ‘I’m fucking dead because my arteries became clogged up’, I’ve reconciled myself to one single and obvious truth. For us, the working class little people, the ones who, every five years get the chance to trudge into the Polling Booth and vote for the least ugly of the candidates, there is now no longer any future in social democracy. Since the emergence of the liar Blair and his Far Away Eyes and the impact New Labour has had on every single political figure of all political persuassions that follows his doctrine and ideology that is, ‘tell them anything you think they want to hear just to get into Government,’ I’ve concluded that right now, here, now and today, for the benefit of everything that’s good and holy, we need, only for a short period of time a dictator.
Yes! A Dictator. Not your nasty narcissistic, psychopathic headbanger who thirsts to bring havoc to the world. There are other dictatorial headbangers out there who genuinely want to dictate but do not wish to cause any of us harm. I’m advocating the latter. A complete headbanger of a dictator who’ll come to power, get rid of all the slime, the sludge and all the other stinking rancid grime that one associates with the political elite, all bloody Councils and all those who’ve signed up to the ethos of Common Purpose, clean the slate and begin again.
Year bloody Zero! That’s what we need. We need a new beginning. A new period of enlightenment where it’s possible not to have our ears that God equipped us to hear with, to be bombarded with mindless and pointless words like passionate, vision, outcomes, Partnerships, transformation, lessons have been learned, bloody journey and all the rest of the pointless and mindless pigswill that rolls down the conveyor belt to get emptied upon our heads every bloody day the gravy train continues to roll out carrying the rich, the privledged and the celebrated toward the land of milk and honey.
I say, fuck them! Let’s find ourselves a kindhearted, good and decent narcissistic, mentally unstable dictatorial headbanger of a twat who, by nature and a good upbringing is desperate to do good things for the people of the United Kingdom PLC.
Then, after a period of time, after the successful and fully completed political, social and economic transformation has been brought about by the presence of our benevolent head banging despotic dictator and we’re brought back to square one, where good people like Jeremy Corbyn are not bullied, belittled and attacked by a howling mob of backstabbing oily political chancers, we tap on the fools door and say, ‘times up you mad bastard. Fuck off. Don’t come back. Thank you very much for everything you’ve done.’


Bobby47

Jan 28, 2016

What’s wrong with Wirral Council Street Lighting?

So Cardin, the Chief Executive has chosen to ignore you again! Clearly, given the way this fella constructs a thought, an ’emerging thought’, his reaction would probably have been, ‘Cardin can get stuffed. Never! I’ll never have an emerging thought that compels me to answer him.’
Mind, he’s probably praying nightly to his God that you’ll stop bothering him which of course you won’t.
If I were in his shoes, I’d grasp the stinging nettle, have an emerging thought that directed me to display a little courage, strike up an uneasy but very polite relationship and answer your correspondence.
Mind, what you and I would do and what he’d do are of course very different things. Take care lad. My very warmest regards to you and yours. Rob.


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Post #39

Bobby47

Aug 18, 2016

Windows for Dummies – August 2016

The surprising thing to me is that the culprit, the offender and the thrower of this brick has not given himself or herself up. I would have. I’d have caved in before now.
When the Police announce, ‘we will catch this menace’, it’s a good time to reflect, come out of hiding, introduce yourself to the Constable and say, ‘you’ll get me in the end. It’s pointless hiding any longer. It was me’.
More often than not the Police will hint at the slim prospect of catching this evil bastard that’s caused Angela so much pain, fear, angst and political misery, but not this time. They’ve said, ‘we will catch him’ thus removing any doubt of the final outcome and so, if this thrower of a brick is holed up in some attic, secreted in some far away Hebridean hedge, I’d tell him, or her, both sexes are equally capable of hiding, ‘give yourself up and stop wasting your life hiding away from the inevitable outcome’.
What’s more, I’d tell him, or her, both sexes are equally capable of hurting Angela’s political aspirations, ‘they’ll catch you. It may take years, even decades, but one day, possibly before you die, you will be arrested and held to account for your irresponsible actions.’


bobby47

Aug 8, 2016

Angela Eagle’s 17 whistleblowers – The Eagle 17 – Are they for REAL?

Isn’t it strange how an embattled and cornered fallen political figure, who of course is driven by a noble cause and an unquenchable passion to serve others rather than themselves and their own personal vanity, can pull a much respected and good, kind and well meaning label like The Whistleblower out of the air, shape, mould and fit it to their own political damage limitation exercise and use the term Whistleblower to its fullest possible potential in order to sell the idea that the sinner is actually the victim?
And, what’s more, just to make sure that everyone can fully grasp just how big a victim this political figure is, a frighteningly high and extremely hard to ignore number of seventeen is thrown into the recipe that’ll probably convince most who’ve had a full frontal lobotomy that seventeen whistleblowers can’t be all wrong.
I mean, which figure is the most convincing? One or two? I know which one I’d choose if I was in desperate need of help and future credibility. The higher the better as far as I’m concerned. In fact, thinking about it some more, perhaps Angela should have gone for a number higher than seventeen. If I read two identical tales of woe, designed and intended to convince me one way or the other, I’d have gone with the largest number. It’s plain and simple. Seventeen is a lot better and more convincing than a lesser and lower number, whereas, a number higher than seventeen, say, thirty six for example, is more convincing than twenty one or even thirty five.
Course, if you take this logic to its natural conclusion and take notice of those that are your political advisors who’s job it is to salvage your reputation after the stabbing of Jeremy, you could end up with thousands of Whistleblowers who you could reasonable describe as a huge crowd of dubious witnesses who’ve probably been paid for and easily be described as very unreliable witnesses with a questionable hidden agenda.
Given that I’ve got to know, admire and become friendly with a few Whistleblowers, I ain’t so sure they’d be happy to have their hard won and often painful label of Whistleblower pinned to the chest of anybody who just happened to have a personal or political loyalty to the original sinner who now is orchestrating the last chapter of their political memoir titled, ‘I shouldn’t have stabbed Jeremy’.


bobby47

Jul 18, 2016

BREAKING NEWS – #Brickgate – Angela Eagle’s Office Window was NOT broken…

Clearly matters have developed and the public need answers to the whole thing. I’d like Angela to do the right thing, put this whole tragic affair to bed and put right all that’s gone wrong.
For my part I do not demand an explanation as to what went wrong. Quite frankly it’s done, it’s dusted and the whole tragic tale of woe is now disappearing fast in my rear view mirror. It’s of no concern to me.
However, I do think it important that Angela should now, for the purposes of political credibility and a keen sense of duty to public service, have a broken window and so, I say to Angela, gather the media together in your backyard or front lawn, tell them, ‘start filming lads’ and then throw a brick through her own window causing the glass to shatter.
That’s right! I’m suggesting that Angela should bust her own window as a form of pennants for allowing the great British public to believe that some twat, driven by political anger or shear disgust for her speech where she rightfully calmed, ‘I am a woman’, should actually smash up her own glazed window or window’s, several would be good, and make good all that’s gone wrong.
Course, some commentators will feel differently to me and be demanding more than a few bust window’s but, being a reasonable man I believe that if Angela went about this properly and smashed every single upstairs or downstairs window, it’d send out a clear message covering three key points. Firstly, Angela is a woman, secondly she’s got no problem smashing up her own property and thirdly and lastly she desperate enough to do anything to win our vote and destroy a good and kind man Jeremy Corbyn.


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #38

Bobby47

Sep 24, 2016

We lodged an FOI request re: Wirral Council visits to CHINA – a few days later the poo hit the fan

And it is a strange and an abnormal thing to do isn’t it. Under normal circumstances, putting abnormality of WBC aside, a public servant normally races toward the catastrophe rather than go away from it and in this fella’s case, several thousand miles away from it. Clearly, in these circumstance opinion is divided when it comes to leadership. This fella thinks you should clear off to the Orient whilst everyone else thinks you should not.
Indeed, half a mountain falls upon folk minding their own business and the Minister entrusted to deal with these things, namely mountains collapsing and burying villages and villagers, he or she, both sexes are equally capable of dealing with a catastrophic event, will get the call whilst on holiday and quickly, very quickly they’ll respond,’hi up! My leadership skills are required here. I’m going to cut short my holiday, return home and lead my people’. In this case of course, the reaction is very different. Rather than respond to an emerging thought that screams, ‘for fucks sake cancel the jolly to China’, this leader of men and women has concluded, ‘fuck it and all associated with this devastatingly problematic problem, I’m off to China to spend thousands of publicly funded monies, pretend to all that I’m Marco bloody rotten Polo on a trade mission that’ll generate the Wirral ten thousand jobs, millions in trade benefits, savings of billions and the chance to return after some other incompetent twat has worked on and developed an Action Plan.
Course, I could be wrong here. It’s perfectly possible that this fella, cognisant that he reached his own personal level of incompetence many years ago and knows that if he gets involved he’ll bugger it all up more, has taken the decision to remove himself from the region, the Country and the Continent so that those now tasked to deal with the issue get the best possible chance of succeeding and not becoming infected by his ability to touch something and immediately turn it into a steaming bag of rats excrement.
Thinking about it some more, perhaps this decision to fly off to the distant Orient, seek out some wrinkly old gap toothed hag who runs the local Opium den, suck on an Opium pipe, get blasted out of his mind and think, ‘fuck it’, is a decision that actually does benefit all the people of the Wirral and we should all applaud the lad and say, ‘thank you very much’.



Bobby47

Sep 22, 2016

Frank Field’s unwanted Labour newspaper, paid for by you. Can the Information Commissioner see sense and block it?

Lovely! We all need good news. Glad tidings and happy tales of notable public service achievements will be the trigger to stop many of the lads, hitherto desperately unhappy and bewildered by the scale of the mounting debt generated by ‘transformation’, ’emerging thoughts’ ‘positive outcomes’ and the ‘passion’, from scaling high publicly owned buildings and jumping off into the dreadful abyss or wading into the Mersey waist bloody deep, pulling out a small pocket derringer and blowing their brains out screaming, ‘I’m ready Jesus. Come and get me’.
Just the bloody job I say! Happy news about a carefully staged and managed Litter Pick, a few prestigious awards to some well meaning voluntary groups or a cleverly crafted piece that tells how the Council wasted ten million quid instead of thirty million will be sure to ensure that this ‘rag’ will become a jolly good read to any poor soul stuck between a need to step in front of a thirty tonne fully laden Concrete Mixer or a desperate need to see an end to the misery of waking up every single bloody day cognisant that it’ll be another fourteen hours before you can scurry back up stairs, stagger into bed and dream of a better life and a hope that the entire legion of highly paid suits will all take up Cockle Picking and be consumed by the sand and brine.
And you can be sure of one single thing. Lots of shiny, happy, clappy suits stood their alongside some pointless monument to stupidity, grinning their fat faces off as we sit there staring at the photographic image howling, ‘you bastards’. Yep! Just the thing we need. A politically driven newspaper produced in collaboration with the hierarchy of all our public services that tells you to be happy and celebrate the glory of it all and be content that the bloody outsourcing of just about everything that was once meaningful or worthwhile has gone and lost forever to a Labour group who lost their way and became seduced by power, money and personal glory.


Bobby47

Sep 15, 2016

#Brickgate – Angela Eagle – Merseyside Police Change Their Position on Freedom of Information Request

And here in startling graphic clarity lies the problem within our modern society. The truth no longer bloody matters. It doesn’t. Not one jot. They churn a false story out that’s peddled to the media and then transmitted to us the bloody fools who fund and fuel the madness, they offer up an explanation to a Parliamentary Committee that subsequently turns out to be a bucket of rancid bollocks, public service bodies announce something that’s complete rats urine and then, after its discovered to be undiluted rats piss they then later go onto say, ‘lessons have been learned’ and those that we were all programmed to trust because our Mams and Dads always did, they become corporately swallowed up by their own ‘in the big tent’ delusions that keep up the pretence that we are all on their side, we doubt bloody nothing they ever say and alls well,even when the lies pile up and it’s become increasingly difficult to believe anything they ever say because, deep down, you can see and tell that they also know it’s a load of bollocks and a pack,of lies.
It used to be true or false. A lie or an honest account. Not any bloody more! The truth has nothing to do with the message or the reputation management of the message. They lie. Wriggle room is the key. Give then that and they’ll twist and spin, cognisant that if ever the wheel ever falls bloody off, and it rarely does, their backstop story is, ‘I’ve given an account of what I honestly believed to be true at the time’. The fact that it was all a lie from its conception doesn’t matter. Not to them!
The reality to the many now is Angela’s window was smashed in anger. Whoever did it, did it because Angela was a woman, a brave strong ethical woman who stood up against the evils of Jeremy and If it were not for seventeen good, kind, decent God fearing whistleblowers who’ve bravely stood shoulder to shoulder to support Angela, then the story wouldn’t sound and read so convincing to a population who no longer care who lies to them and what the consequences of the dishonesty are.



Bobby47

Sep 3, 2016

UPDATE ~ Former Wirral Councillor Jim Crabtree – up in court today

Course, whilst I know nothing about this particular prosecution, mostly because the CPS were very quick to refuse my request to have five minutes on me own in one of their little rooms taking a quick butchers at their file of evidence and being allowed to photocopy any interesting stuff, I do know that this sort of thing needs to get nipped in the bud and a clear and unambiguous message is sent out to all Councillors that they can’t communicate with us in an offensive way, and so, on behalf of the dispossessed, the possessed and the demented gamblers, I support this action.
I mean, like all forms of human behaviour, animal behaviour and that of Councillors and the Council hierarchy, they can become emboldened and start posting really bad stuff that can be very upsetting if their behaviour goes unchecked.
That’s right! Today they can send you a message that reads, ‘piss off you boring bastard. I hope a ten ton concrete mixer flattens you when you next leave your local Ale House’. Tomorrow, you can be sat at home, minding your own business,diligently recycling your bloody rubbish when you open a letter that contains an image of your local Councillor or the Council Chief Executive who’s naked, sat on a sofa,clearly in a high state of sexual arousal clutching a glass phial that contains a generous quantity of their recently harvested semen and a scrawled message that reads, ‘we’ve decided to exclude you from any future rubbish collections. Your bins have been confiscated you fat baldy twat’.
Thinking about it some more, I’d say to everyone out there who’s become alarmed and frightened and values having their rubbish taken away in a big plastic bin and over time they’ve become gradually tolerant to being the recipient of dreadfully upsetting communications, don’t put up with Councillors or Council Officers sending you this stuff. Report it to the Police and demand some justice and some habeus corpus!


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #37

Bobby47

Feb 22, 2017

#UKIP #StokeCentral campaigner p***es on house, tries to force entry. Help identify

I hate this sort of behaviour. If there’s one thing that irritates me its being sat at home minding me own business and having someone urinating against the walls of my dwelling and then them trying to get inside me house when I don’t want them in it.
Course, the Police ain’t helping to address this sort of anti social behaviour area. I’ve spoken with the local Commander and reluctantly he conceded that in the last ten years they’ve only prosecuted one individual for urinating up against someones brick wall and worse, they’ve never prosecuted anyone who’s pissed up a dwellings wall and then tried to get in the house thereafter.
It’s this sort of couldn’t care less attitude by the Police that gets my eczema going red. It’s no wonder that good folk, hitherto not bothered about much else, don’t bother reporting things to the Police especially when they learn that they appear to be ignoring urinators who then try to get inside your house.
Course, it’s who you know isn’t it. If I tipped up at Angela Eagles abode, pissed up the brickwork of her home and then started pushing at her door demanding, ‘open the door Eagle I’m coming in’, I’d be hauled off by the Constable and brought before the Magistrate. To right as well I say! You wouldn’t find me wasting the Courts time pleading Not Guilty. I’d face up to my wrongdoing and demand I was given a hefty slice of restorative justice and assure Angela that whilst I was guilty of pissing eight pints of ale up her masonry rendering and trying to gain entry to her house when I clearly wasn’t wanted in her house, I did not smash her window, I was not homophobic and there was no need for her to drag twenty seven other whstleblowng people into this dreadful case to prove I did it.



Bobby47

Dec 1, 2016

#Brickgate – Police finally admit – There’s No Evidence to Conclude ‘Angela Eagle’s Window’ was Smashed by a Brick

This case still puzzles me. It’s very puzzling. It’s become synonymous with its puzzling modus operandi, so much so, last night I woke up howling, ‘my God this is puzzling’.
And so, having trawled through the entire threads generated by Cardin, this morning I got up determined to end this dreadfully puzzling case. I stood outside our front room, assured the neighbours not to panic and call the Constable, I picked up half a bloody house brick and threw it at my window causing it to smash. Quickly, c’os I didn’t want the scene contaminated, I got down on my hands and knees to discover that no glass fragments had fallen onto the floor outside my window. Excitedly, I scurried off inside the house to discover that the front room of the house was plastered in great shards of splintered glass fragments. Immediately, I thought, ‘hi up, this is puzzling’ and it was then I decided to take the next step to prove Cardins theorem that something wasn’t quite right.
That’s right! I got another house brick, stood inside the Dining Room and with considerable force I threw it at the window smashing it. As before, I quickly discovered that no glass was inside the house and like before, all the bits of glass were outside, thus proving beyond doubt that the Wirral Window was smashed by an insider.
Whatsmore, having proved this, and I believe I have, I can also say that this insider had at least one leg. Had the culprit no legs then it’s not unreasonable to conclude that they’d have been found at the scene trying to crawl away after carrying out this dreadful act. In fact, they’d probably still be there now. I’d now urge the local Constable to act on this, respect the integrity of my forensic investigations, get all the insiders together and if any of the staff are found to have no legs, eliminate them as not being suspect and begin to put an end to this puzzling case, commonly known as The Wirral Window.



Bobby47

Nov 23, 2016

UPDATED – “Bold, unsubstantiated … defamatory … harassment” but now proven beyond doubt – James Griffiths was right

Good work Cardin. Very well done. Whilst I am very pleased that the ‘ordeal’ for both Nigel and James is nearing its end and the now unavoidable and inevitable conclusion, that they both had the shit kicked out of them by an obsessed and abnormally constructed Reputation Management bureaucratic beast of burden gathering of deluded fools, I can’t help feeling particularly pleased for the one and the only, relentless fighter and purveyor of words that moreorless, over and over again, read, ‘you lying bastads’, master James Griffiths, who, in his delightful and unique way, kept on going when many others might have thrown their hand in and given up.
Well done lads!


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #36

Bobby47

Jan 13, 2017

Wirral Labour Party Ex-Councillor and “Britain First” Admirer Receives Suspended Sentence for Making a Death Threat

There’s an interesting testimonial on the World Wide Web Cardin concerning a very new employee at Speke Airport who clearly has impressed an ill passenger who was about to board a ‘red eye’ flght to Malaga.
Addressing his positive feedback to the Director of Sevices at this transport hub, he reports, I began to feel very unwell and as I sat there it became very obvious that I needed to evacuate my bowel and so, gathering my belongings together I left my seat in the boarding area and hurtled into the toilets screaming to the Janitor, ‘for the love of God I need help’.
This good soul quickly removed his urine stained rubber gauntlets and with some considerable care invited me to enter his Number One cubicle saying, ‘I will remain here until I’m satisfied you are no longer in distress’.
Immediately after entering the cubicle I began my bowel evacuation. Quite simply, due to whatever it was that I consumed to bring about my illness, I shat, and I shat and I shat, over and over again and when the muscles in my diaphragm began to ease giving me faint hope the ordeal was ending, I shat and shat some more screaming to the Janitor, ‘I’m so sorry about this. I’ve covered the entire toilet in my excrement’, to which he replied, ‘Sir, it’s my job to remove whatever you’ve deposited. There’s no need for you to apologise’.
Then, for some humanistic reason, no doubt resulting in our bond together created by our shared experience of this dreadful event, this Janitor, who was happily for me still on the other side of the cubicle door rather than inside with me, whilst I was still unloading my shit that was now nigh on all over the place, he tragically broke down and wept making some unintelligible reference to him once being Chair of a Council Audit&Risk Comittee of Wirral Borough Council.
Anyway, to conclude this encounter with your wonderful employee, I emerged from the cubicle and, as I washed my hands, mopped my sweat covered brow, I glanced back at this remarkable Janitor who was now within the cubicle clearing up the mess created by my visit to your toilets, muttering over and over again, ‘that it’s come to this’.


Bobby47

Dec 28, 2016

UPDATE – Homeless man has his possessions drenched by Debenhams security guard in Portsmouth

It makes you sick! It’s just another symptom of the corporate/media message, the narrative that they demand we all follow. that those without a home, have got buggar all, are in some way a problem to all of us.
No matter where you look up and down the Country you’ve got Police Officers towering over those laid on the bloody floor covered in cardboard and a blanket telling them you cannot sleep here, you mustn’t beg money and essentially saying, ‘piss off go make some other place look untidy. Your presence here offends us’. The bastards!
You’ve got Councils telling us not to give them money because it only feeds their terrible addictions and worse, much much bloody worse, bloody Charitable organisations are doing the same thing. Don’t give them the bloody money. Give it to us. We know how best to spend it. The bastards! They certainly do know how to spend it. On themselves funding huge salaries, top of the range cars and a bloody big thank you from society at the end of the feeding frenzy.
As for the bastard who drenched this poor soul, well his punishment is here for all to read. What of those, these oily slimed bottom feeding narcissistic twats who’ve decided amongst themselves that we, Joe bloody public, are incapable of knowing how best to help our fellow man. What happens to them? Bloody nothing!



Bobby47

Dec 9, 2016

#Brickgate – Angela Eagle’s PR man – Imran Ahmed – throws his weight around on Twitter

Dear Imran, if your reading this, and I strongly suspect you are, please believe me when I say that I definitely threw two house bricks at my own property, smashing two of my windows that were subsequently repaired at my own personal expense in order to expose the puzzling issues regarding The Wirral Window.
You Sir are very wrong if you are implying that my forensic investigations into this matter was based upon a fabrication. I’ll be damned if I sit back and remain silent on this issue.
You can pop down here anytime you choose and knock on doors and ask the neighbours, ‘did he smash his house up’ and they’ll say, ‘he most certainly did,’ and what’s more many will probably comment, ‘we couldn’t understand why he did this’.
I’d respectfully suggest that from hereon, instead of going to war via Twitter, you get onside and apply your considerable abilities to exposing why it became necessary for folk like me, decent God fearing folk who diligently recycle their rubbish, to feel it necessary to pick up large objects and smash up their own property and create public hysteria and a general fear from my neighbours that I was living in the same street as them.


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The Comments of Bobby47 to this blog. Part #35

Bobby47

Mar 19, 2017

EXCLUSIVE – Wirral Council is Taking an Axe to its Customer Service Staff – 100 Full Time Jobs to Go

Transformation isn’t strictly the right word is it? Yes, they’re changing something and yes their strategic decision making will bring about a very different model of public service that was once in place, but the transformation, which in the context of Council speak is supposed to be something good and better than you had before, is in this case, and let’s face it in just about every bloody case that these bastards involve themselves in, is something like a lovely brightly adorned butterfly transforming and emerging into a Pediculus Capitus, a bloody nit, a member of the head lice rotten bloody species.
Transformation is the wrong word. Buggered Up is! How in Jehovahs good name is this wanton destruction of front line staff supposed to help the people? It makes you want to spit bile and phlegm doesn’t it. And they wonder why so many people take to their keyboards howling, ‘you rotten stinkers’. Mind, with this onslaught of transformation, from something into nothing, having access to a keyboard will eventually be the only method of communicating with the hierarchy of this Empire Of Dirt.



Bobby47

Mar 9, 2017

A Quest for the Truth. The Fabled “Window of #Brickgate” – Part One

Would thee be a wench, wouldst thou be the mother of his children and likest me, kinda fond of the menace who writeth these prose.
Whatever thou’ist be and however thou be associated with him, my very warmest regards to you and yours. Rob.


Bobby47

Feb 22, 2017

#UKIP #StokeCentral campaigner p***es on house, tries to force entry. Help identify

I hate this sort of behaviour. If there’s one thing that irritates me its being sat at home minding me own business and having someone urinating against the walls of my dwelling and then them trying to get inside me house when I don’t want them in it.
Course, the Police ain’t helping to address this sort of anti social behaviour area. I’ve spoken with the local Commander and reluctantly he conceded that in the last ten years they’ve only prosecuted one individual for urinating up against someones brick wall and worse, they’ve never prosecuted anyone who’s pissed up a dwellings wall and then tried to get in the house thereafter.
It’s this sort of couldn’t care less attitude by the Police that gets my eczema going red. It’s no wonder that good folk, hitherto not bothered about much else, don’t bother reporting things to the Police especially when they learn that they appear to be ignoring urinators who then try to get inside your house.
Course, it’s who you know isn’t it. If I tipped up at Angela Eagles abode, pissed up the brickwork of her home and then started pushing at her door demanding, ‘open the door Eagle I’m coming in’, I’d be hauled off by the Constable and brought before the Magistrate. To right as well I say! You wouldn’t find me wasting the Courts time pleading Not Guilty. I’d face up to my wrongdoing and demand I was given a hefty slice of restorative justice and assure Angela that whilst I was guilty of pissing eight pints of ale up her masonry rendering and trying to gain entry to her house when I clearly wasn’t wanted in her house, I did not smash her window, I was not homophobic and there was no need for her to drag twenty seven other whstleblowng people into this dreadful case to prove I did it.



Bobby47

Feb 9, 2017

But I cannot recall

Give me some heart and throw me a bone! Tell me that this isn’t your work. For if it is, and I fear it might be, like the cheating athletes, I say you Cardin are blogging under the influence of a synthetic substance that’s designed to heighten creativity and thus place the rest of us who diligently tap at our keyboards at a disadvantage resulting in ‘us’ looking wankie when our offerings are compared to yours.
Is this your work? Tell me!!!!!


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