Yet another cock-up

This here’s a leaflet distributed to pubs in the area for the information and enjoyment of said pubs’ customers, offering guidance on alcohol consumption.

Produced by “BedSafe”… that stupid busybody nosey-parker “let’s tell everyone how to live their lives” initiative of the local Council in collaboration, I do suspect, with the Constabulary. And probably various other “interested parties” who’ve totally bought into the Nanny State.

And if I say that the local Council’s Licensing Officer, Keith “just call me Adolf” Simmons has his interfering little digits stuck firmly into the BedSafe pie, well, need I say any more?

Now don’t get me wrong. Though I enjoy the occasional (hmm) tipple meself, I do think that booze is a bit of a problem. In fact, I’d argue (and always have done) that alcohol’s a bigger problem (socially and otherwise) than smoking ever was.
And if I had my way, those who can’t handle the stuff or use it as an excuse for violence and other generally bad behaviour should all be force-fed the bloody stuff (preferably from the rear end) ’til they drop dead.

Me being me I had, of course, to take a closer peek at this wonderful little leaflet. And what’s this I see?…

Now unless I’m much mistaken, FIRE is the greatest single contributory factor in “deaths caused by house fire”. Isn’t it?

Stupid arseholes!

And to think the Council wastes ratepayers’ money on producing that sort of rubbish. Bloody hell.
Clearly another example of not thinking before they’re speaking (or writing in this case). Still, to think you’ve actually gotta have a brain I s’pose.

10 thing’s I hate…..

1. Political correctness can go blow a Monkey’s pole.

2. Chavs, what exactly is the point of them?

3. Esther Rantzen….Aarrgh! hate the horrible horse faced do-gooder.

4. Fashion….. just ‘cos someone rich and famous is wearing it, doesn’t mean it’ll look good on you (most of the time it doesn’t look good on them).

5. Fat people, stop eating all the pies……I want some too.

6. Children who don’t know their place (it’s all number 3’s fault).

7. Ricky Gervais….. smug, is not funny, now fuck off you fat bastard.

8. Ex smokers….you know you want to really.

9. Call centres….if you insist on calling me, at least have someone who can speak English do it (or better still stop calling me, I don’t want what ever it is you’re selling).

10. Esther Fucking Rantzen (yes I hate her so much I mentioned her twice).

Talk about over the top

Got a feeling mein host may have mentioned something about this to me a coupla weeks ago. Not that I was paying much attention. Pretty much par for the course with our conversations.
He says something. I don’t pay attention. Or I don’t hear. Amounts to the same thing really. Then I say something and he ignores me. Bastard Nordic oaf. Dunno why we bother talking at all really.

Anyway, got a sneaking suspicion he said something about this. About High Street pubs in the arse-end of the Universe that’s known as Bedford demanding to see ID before they’ll serve anyone with alcohol that they think may be under… wait for it… 30!

Yep. That’s what I said. 30. Three bloody zero!

As I say, I didn’t pay too much attention. Well, I wouldn’t, would I? What with me being way past that anyway.
Until I spotted this sign in the Bankers Draft (a pub just over the road from where I happened to be at the time).

Not quite believing what I was seeing I bunged on the long lens just to get a better look…

S’pose I could have gone across the road… but, dammit, that would have entailed walking!

Sure enough. If you look under 30 they’re gonna ask to see ID.

Now correct me if I’m wrong (and I’m sure mein host will, what with him being a bit of a know-it-all on things licensed trade related) but last time I looked I’m sure the minimum legal alcohol purchasing age was 18. In the good old U Nanny State K at least.

Now for alcohol-flogging establishments to check IDs up to say 21 I can understand. But 30? That’s just taking the piss.

There’s a coupla points here:

1) If I were, say, 29 years old and went into a pub for a drink and the idiot behind the bar asked for ID I’d likely as not tell him (or her even) to bugger off and I’d vacate that establishment for somewhere much friendlier (before being thrown out of course). And likely as not I wouldn’t go back there ever again. And if I were a moderately heavy drinker or regular pub goer then they would have lost a damn good customer. And money!
And I’d make sure to tell all my friends not to frequent the bloody nosey-parker place as well.
So a bit of an own goal really.

2) By implementing a policy such as that what they’re actually saying is that their bar staff can’t tell the difference between someone aged 17 and someone aged 30.
Now being unable to discern whether someone’s 17 or 19, or 20, or even 21 I can sort of understand. But 17 and 30? Oh get real. If they can’t distinguish between a 17-year-old and a 30-year-old then they should be bloody sacked. No right to be behind a bar in the first place.

I wouldn’t be at all surprised, either, if someone with the balls and the inclination could probably mount some sort of legal challenge to this stupid, utterly stupid, policy.

And as for Bedford’s Bankers Draft, and all the rest of the pubs of that ilk, well, they can just sling their hook. Hope they all go bust! And hope their stupid sodding bar staff that can’t tell someone who’s 17 from someone who’s 30 never work in a pub again.

Bloody idiots.