Requiem for the Easter Bunny

I finally put the chocolate bunny out of its misery-or, perhaps, out of my misery-and scoffed it on Saturday morning. At 5am, after eating the rest of the Kettle Chips and having two strong mugs of coffee. Why? Because the deranged psycho upstairs neighbor from Hell was drilling all Friday night. Again. I so wanted him to slip with the drill and put a nice, large hole in his head (I'm pretty sure there's nothing in there anyway, but a large hole would be perfect). Then we would be rid of him once and for all.

I know it's very uncharitable of me. And so un-Christian. And bad karma. Who gives a shit?

The good news is that I bought two chocolate bunnies, just in case I couldn't wait for Easter Sunday. Be prepared-I learned something useful in the Girl Scouts. So I munched through the second one on Sunday. There really wasn't anything else to do, since most of the shops were closed. I had a long walk and took my bunny with me. It was great: the Lindt bunny, the elbow crutch and me, all walking up the hill, trying to trip as many idiots as I could. I was very purposeful-and people really did get out of my way. For once.

I did my going to the hospital thing all week: infusions, blood work, and all that-but a friend rang to ask me if I wanted to go to the movies. The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, or a reasonable facsimile thereof (very long title). The deal? We would go see that and then today would go see Fast and Furious 7. I'm such a sucker for good special effects. Put me in front of anything with car chases or lots of effects, give me a bag of Kettle Chips, and I'm as happy as can be. If I'm that easy to please, I really do need to get out more.

Now isn't the time to simply take a leisurely walk. The general election is imminent, and as soon as you leave the house you get accosted by someone from one of the parties, desperate to get your vote. And-I am political, and everything that is going on has an effect on my healing, whether directly or indirectly. So-here is an inside view of the upcoming election from an objective (well, nearly objective) foreigner who is not an ancient pop star or a rich actress who names her child after a fruit.

Cameron is our incumbent Prime Minister, and Cameron and the Conservatives are doing their best to dismantle the NHS-preferably without anyone noticing. Like a certain President who looked directly at the cameras and took credit for Bin Laden (credit which he certainly didn't deserve, since he did nothing), Cameron loves looking into the camera lens and lying through his teeth. He is a politician-so you know he is lying when his lips move. In fact, he lies when he takes a breath. He is a born liar-and this country is suffering greatly for it. But people are, as you know, incredibly stupid. Braindeads will believe him, and vote for him, and then live (possibly) to regret it. Call me Dave-is a world-class, blue ribbon, totally incompetent, lying douchebag. That is a compliment; I could say so much more (but I leave that to the other politicians, who aren't much better).

Then there is Nick Clegg, the co-imbecile of this coalition government. Clegg just opens his mouth and sticks his foot in it-sometimes both feet. The best description of Clegg is-well, one four-letter word that rhymes with his first name and begins with a D. Enough said. The prospect of having him elected as prime minister is cringeworthy. Maybe even vomit-inducing.

Who is next? Oh dear-Ed Miliband, the head of the Labour Party. To his credit, Ed has been criticizing the pressing financial issues-instead of doing a Call me Dave and spending all his time trying to discredit the competition. But Labour shot itself in the foot by appointing him, rather than his (in my opinion, anyway) more intelligent and more qualified brother, who had the sense to pick his family up and take a job in New York. David Miliband is making big bucks in New York, and Ed-Ed is Ed. He has all the charisma of a cowpat. Would you vote for a cowpat? Exactly my point.

Then there is UKIP. UKIP is vilified by the tabloids, but, of course, the tabloids only hire imbeciles who are unable to spell, or punctuate, or put together a sentence of more than four words (most of them under four letters long). Tabloids: the Mail, Express, Sun, Mirror-they are all on a par with the National Enquirer. People read them. People listen to them. They express their opinions, their prejudices-anything but actual news. And, of course, the Guardian, leftist pseudo-intellectual tabloid wolf in a sheep's clothing, is just as bad, since it appeals to the racist and dimwitted masses.

UKIP is for putting the brakes on immigration, for one thing. If you speak with anyone who was born in this country, who worked all their lives, paid their taxes, fought in one of the wars-they will tell you how unhappy they are with the doors being opened to people from the European Union- because it would seem that many of them come over to claim benefits, not to work.

It is very difficult to separate the lies from the truth, the promises (most of which will never be kept) from all the bullshit. I keep my head under the parapet, keep my opinions to myself (except on this blog, where I feel free to go to town, fire verbal missiles, and just call it as I see it), and on voting day I will be reading a book and minding my own business.

There was something on BBC News (just as bad as everyone else, sadly) about all our emails being investigated by MI5, the NSA, and all the security services. They are looking for key words (allegedly) to pinpoint possible terrorist attacks. So when I say I fire potshots, and missiles, I hasten to add that these are all verbal. Otherwise I will be blogging from jail.

I wonder if they would have working wi-fi? Hmmm.....