barmar

Barak Obama has spoken in his first State of the Union address. Good. It’s good because since he came into power we’ve hardly see hide nor hair of the fellow. Unlike his predecessor, Monkey Brains, Obama seems to have decided the best way to govern his nation is to sit in the Oval Office with his door shut to the outside world. He’s a bit of a disappointment really, Guantanamo Bay is still open for business despite assurances it would be shut now (he didn’t mention this at all yesterday) his attempts at Healthcare and banking reforms were a fucking joke to be perfectly honest and the war is still raging in the Middle East with no end in sight.

Instead he focussed his speech on ‘employment.’ That’s nice, and of course employment is essential for the health of a nation and society at large and what have you, but in the grand global plan of things, the plan that is overseen by the USA with regard to war, death, famine, environment, death, torture, war, death etc., the question of Coleslaw Penchowlsky losing his job as bog cleaner at his local Walmart isn’t the first thing that springs to mind in terms of ‘priorities.’ In short, if you need any evidence that the USA is run exclusively by bankers, lawyers and the CIA, I think you have it right there. Obama’s intentions, I feel, are genuine. Unfortunately he’s no power to achieve his aims, you see folks? The pres ain’t running the show.

Anyway, what do I care, I’ve got a leather shirt. That’s right, ‘a leather shirt,’ off IC. She gave it to me last night before we went out for dinner, out the blue it was. It’s one of those things you get that are as good as new shoes when you’re 7, you know, when you go to bed wearing them because you just don’t want to take them off. When you do remove them you examine them in detail, smell the leather, poke the rubbery sole and the squish that soft bit that supports your instep. No, at 7, nothing is as important as your new shoes… I think you get the picture. Anyway, this leather shirt, it’s fucking marvellous, I don’t think I’ll ever take it off, ever.

We went to the local boozer for dinner, I suppose you could call it a gastro pub but that would do it a disservice, these days ‘gastro pub’ is choc-full of wanky connotations, it’s a more of a proper pub with a restaurant serving well above average pub grub. I opted, unusually, for the aged-beef burger with bacon and fucking cheese. It’s not my normal fare, I think the hum of fresh leather turned me, but it was beautiful.

Oh, did I mention my leather shir….

*bang*