bobby47

He's got bloody glasses on. I need one without glasses. That said, I've taken an instant dislike to that right ear. Where's its bloody lobe. That's an odd looking right ear. Mind, that's no reason to dislike the man. I'll not have it said that I'll judge a man by his rather odd looking right ear. Let's have a proper picture that'll allow us all the ability to see for ourselves why this Councillor was rude to our Richard.

Somebody provide me with a photograph of this man Barnes. I need to gaze into his eyes before I say anymore that gives the impression that I don't like him.

Very well done Mr Hadley. I've read your blog and its good. Very good. My warmest regards to you.

This is my take on things. First and foremost I'd say to Phil that rather than be hurt and angry, take a step back, and take the 'mickey taking' in the right way. Laugh it off, take it as a compliment that you are important enough to be the target of these quips and don't take it personal. It's really not personal. I'm in no position to know whether or not you are a good Councillor, a bad one or one of mediocrity. I don't know you and its likely I never will but, because you've achieved high office, because you've placed yourself in the public eye, as far as I'm concerned, if I find something mildly amusing that I can relate to you or any other elected official you become my target. Spiteful, cowardly and shameful? I hope not. I sincerely hope I'm none of those things but the reality nowadays is that you and your colleagues are fair game. Perhaps its harsh but this is the way of things now the people no longer bow their heads in reverence to those we elect to represent us. Think on this Phil. Your electoral boundaries are changed which puts you in direct conflict with Glenda Vaughan Powell. One of you had to go if an Independent was going to win and retain a hold on the Ward. Your opponent is the incumbent, she's given many years of her life to her job, she's not attained the High Office you've reached and yet, despite all these things, you've decided to go against her because of past political bickerings and differences. You could have and should have stepped aside but you've chosen not to probably believing that it'd be extremely difficult for you to win but at the same time you can win enough votes to ensure Glenda Vaughan Powell loses as well. I don't see any honour in that Phil. In fact, it seems to me that if I am in anyway wrong for ridiculing you, you are no better than I am. You've gotta grasp that if you pop a sign up on the old Newton Farm bogs, if there's a fool out there like me, you are going to get teased. If you happen to have red rosy cheeks and you are of a similar appearance to the infamous Widow Twanky you are going to get teased. You are going to get teased because its funny, you are seeking an elected office, and I make no apology for teasing you. It's simply the way of things, the new reality of social media and there is nothing wrong in giving politicians a bit of stick. Mind, if I've hurt you and you've genuinely not taken the teasing well and it's upset your family life then for that I am sorry. It's not my intention to be hurtful. It's my intention to mock you because you are a public figure and you want my vote. Now, please, reflect upon my words, recognise that you do look like Widow Twanky, your sign above the old bogs was a stupid place to advertise your desire to win an election, be cognisant that there is humour beneath it all and stop attacking Colin James and Hereford Voice simply because you want to shut me and others up. I wish you well. I hope you lose and I hope that my words make you realise that to be teased, albeit its unwanted, is a sort of backhanded compliment and you should stop being precious about all of these silly quips that have you stood on a stage playing Widow Twanky as five hundred children shout, 'he's behind you'. My very warmest regards to you Phil.

'H' my dear and old friend, don't smile. There is something seriously wrong here. I mean, look at the elevation of that sign. It's not like he popped past and thought, 'I'll stick a sign up there'. There's been some forward planning to do this job. Unless Phil is eight foot bloody six, he's been sat at home, he's thought, 'I'll stick a sign up on the bogs', he's hurtled into his shed, grabbed the ladders, popped a lump hammer and a couple of nails into his bag and off he went. He's either carried the ladders down to the bogs and done the nailing or he's tethered the ladders to some mechanically propelled motor vehicle, driven down there and then done the nailing.

Of all the places to hang your name on, the Widow chooses the closed down bogs. My God! And to make it worse and feed me he's stuck it directly between the Men and Women signs that adorn aforementioned bogs, which, given his second job performing as a Pantomime Dame where the sex of the performer is often questionable Phil either has a razor sharp sense of humour placing his name between the two sexes or he's been put on this earth to fuel my drug and ale fuelled crumbling mind. The bogs! My God that it's come to this Phil.

And to quote the great Twowheels with or without an 'e', The bloody Council are a bunch of rotters and stinkers'. Why ain't it bloody working so frequently throughout the working year? Because the incompetent bungling idiots pay the best to get the bloody best to procure their rotten IT software. That's the bloody reason that the system just gives up, switches off and moreorless says to itself, 'fu.ck it. I can't be bloody bothered'. And who can blame it. I certainly don't. Pay the best to get the best my neighbours right nut! Let's turn the entire model of procurement that the Council use, spin it on its head and start trying to recruit the worst possible candidate for the job and paying him or bloody her the minimum wage. Let's give it a shot. I mean, we can't possibly do any worse than we are thus far. Yes! Let's employ a man who, when you stare into his eyes and gaze into the hollow eye sockets that contain his lifeless retinas, you'll quickly conclude, 'this poor soul knows nothing'. Yes! Get Tony Johnson to do the job. There's a man who I've quickly identified as being suitable to completely buggar up whatever's left that you can vaguely describe as 'we think it's still working'.

Amanda, Now you've made your complaint, Regulation Forms will be served on the Officers, they'll gather and seize any audio or video recording, they'll probably take a copy of Julian's Custody Sheet but they will not interview anyone until the Court case is concluded. It's only after acquittal or conviction that the Officers will be interviewed After Caution. Honestly, I wouldn't give the matter any further concern. The CPS will throw their hand in. Unfortunately for you both, it'll be a while longer before you are formally told that there will be NFA.

Seb, I like you and your writing style. It's enthusiastic, at times youthfully blind and oblivious to the sh.it we are all wading around in, and optimistic on a scale that's heartening to those like me who are wading around in this chaos that our political entire have created for us all. As for Cardin, you are wrong. It's not a bee. It's not one single bee. It's an entire hive and judging from his antecedent history it's a swarm that he's become accustomed to having with him for many years. Fight the battles you can win Seb and avoid the ones you can't. Concentrate your efforts on the Ward you hope to win and avoid Cardin because no good will come of it. And, if you choose to ignore my good advice, at the very least win your seat before you put yourself in harms way and go up against this menace of a blogger who thrives on poking the hierarchy with a stick demanding to know why they've been bullying disabled people and why they've been taking huge chunks of public money, possibly as much as three hundred and seventy thousand pounds and paying their staff Gagging Payments to remain silent to you, me, the media and anyone else who might like to discover exactly what the Council have been doing. My very warmest regards to you Seb.

Well they say 'you reap what you sew' and if that's true, and I'm sure it bloody well is, the humble and lowly paid Council staff of Hereford are now frantically harvesting the fruits of the nice, cozy and fluffy lovely relationship that the Union and the hierarchy have been enjoying for far to long. They're all to bloody close! Yes, at the heart of all this is the Union have become seduced by the glitz of power and a mindset that lays the blame at the bullied, the disabled, the poorly paid and all those, and there are many, who simply don't bloody matter. That's it really. It's nothing else. It's simply one man or woman elected to be a Shop Steward desperately wanting to be bloody liked and craving approval from those who wield the power. It's a perfectly natural human trait that should be managed and controlled. The truth is that the Union staff have not managed that weakness, they've certainly not succeeded in controlling it and now we are where we are, completely buggared up. Course, when I say 'we', it ain't me, you and anybody else who bothers to read this bucket of sludge I've just turned out, it's the Whistleblower and all those at the bottom of the food chain who pay their monthly subscriptions happy and bloody content in the knowledge that some Union bigwig has managed to crawl up the legs of Geoff Hughes and is currently perched on his lap squeezing the blackheads from his rosy red cheeks. Bloody hell! And finally, this bloody thing about Cardin bullying Jess Norman. Where's all that come from? Merely posing a sensible question for a noble purpose and then having to ask it again and again doesn't make you a bully. A pain in the backside perhaps but to throw the term bully out simply to stop somebody finding the truth is the last desperate act of someone who knows he was told about the bullying, he's found the email informing him of the tragic events within Plough Lane and like all who are faced with the notion, 'Oh sh.it I was told and I didn't do anything about it', he's understandably trying to manage the reputation and rid himself of his tormentor. And that's it. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. It's all perfectly natural human behaviour that develops when people with very different responsibilities become to bloody friendly with one another.

Seb, you've not made an Ass of yourself. Not at all. Far from it. The only Ass is me and to mitigate my strange and odd imagination is simply to state, I can't help it. No I cannot help myself. I'm beyond help and there'll be no redemption for me. That said, I am reasonably representative of a growing number of good men and women who've chosen to fall by the wayside and take none of our political reality seriously. Yes, we mind our own business, diligently recycle our rubbish and sensibly delete the browsing history on our laptop computers in case our unnatural obsession with por.n.ogr.aph.ic material ever becomes disclosed to our partners, but we are a large demographic of good souls who nobody takes time to care for. Yes, it's this group that I'd like our ruling elite to help. The bewildered, the dispossessed, the possessed, those that bet upon uncertain outcomes and those that don't because they've no money left after spending it all in Ale Houses desperately trying to summon up the courage to leave the pub, stagger up the road and not be Tasered by the Constable or given a fixed penalty notice by the Council because a tiny piece of lamb kebab fell from their mouths and was immediately defined as litter. Instead of mocking my group, I'd like to see local political leaders change course, befriend a hapless and lost soul like me and 'pay it forward'. Yes, instead of mocking the map of Africa that's displayed upon the front of my ill fitting pants, grab me, embrace me and say, 'pilgrim you are clearly blasted out of your brains. Take this tenner and go back in the pub and, if and when you ever do sober up, please vote for me. This is the kind of society and political party that I'd vote for and given what Ian bloody Duncan Smith is doing to the weak, the poor and the downright unlucky, I will never, under any circumstances vote for the Conservative administration. My very warmest regards to you Seb.

Dippy, that's really strange. I was playing and singing this today. It's a brilliant piece of work from Lennon. The tune only has three chords and a hammer on the A minor chord. Like all Lennon's work, this song is so apt to today. Keep you doped with religion, sex and TV, And you think your so clever and classless and free, But you still fu.ck.in peasants as far as I can see. A working class hero is something to be.

Welcome to Hereford Voice Seb. If its crime, Modus Operandi and illicit trends and patterns of criminal activity that interest you, you've tipped up in the right place. One of the most pressing problems we are all experiencing, other than what the senior Directors are getting up to within Plough Lane is the rapid and overwhelmingly vast growth of local Dogging Associations. Your Ward, the Holmer district is the safe haven for the Holmer Horde. A group of men and women who have chosen to openly engage in lewd acts of sexual gratification in any place they choose. Moreoften than not, it's my back garden and frankly, whilst at first it was a novelty and I did enjoy watching, now I'm utterly sick of it. Despite my howling through the window, 'clear off. Be gone. Go make love in some other garden', it's getting me nowhere. Thus far I've had no help from the Police, the Council or the local clergy who seem to me to be happy that these grown men and women are writhing around ejaculating, climaxing and fornicating on my property. Now, whilst I understand that my written words can be read and taken with a smile and a pinch of salt, this whole Dogging thing is a problem and I'd like to know if you succeed and win the seat at the Holmer Ward, will you do all you can to stop these Seekers of pleasure from carrying on their unwelcome activities. Where do you stand on this issue? I don't think its right and I'll be damned if I have to put up with it anymore. My very warmest regards to you.

Hello Pal, I'm glad you returned. I was rude to you and I shouldn't have been. I am very sorry. As for your 'piece', it's an excellent piece of writing and one which I enjoyed reading and if I was aboard this latest Arms Length Company Gravy Train enjoying the sweet taste of its financial rewards I'd embrace you and say, 'thank you very much'. An excellent piece of writing my friend and one which your masters will do well to remember when the next promotion to some obscure strategic thinking post comes up that'll allow you to drift even further away from the front line delivery of health and care within the private sector. A masterful bit of writing pal and not to different to much of the twaddle churned out by other public service arms length traders who celebrate their existence by telling me that I've never had it so good, I'm being saved loads of money and I'm a fool for ever asking why is our money being wasted. My very best wishes and warmest regards to you.

Yes Frankie, I remember that very well. It was I who captured this image. Most troubling for me and many of his constituents was he was sneaking around in my back garden when I photographed him, which given he was fifty two miles from the stage of the Hippodrome, it begs the bloody question, how did he know where I bloody lived.

And just let Phil pop round here, bang on my window and demand that I be less critical of his role and I'll tell him, 'clear off. Your days as the Pantomime Dame are numbered and as far as I'm concerned I won't rest until you become the 'ar.se' end of the Pantomime Horse in this years Puss In Boots at the Courtyard here in Hereford.'

If it didn't carry a mandatory life sentence, there was no chance whatsoever of me ending up on 'C' Wing being passed about like some small wrapped parcel or gift amongst the Prison Bulls and I knew beyond any measure of doubt my actions wouldn't come back to bite me, I'd get them all onto a bus, lock the bloody doors and drive them all away from Plough Lane to some desolate far away place and keep them there out of our bloody way. Sweet loving Jesus there's no end to it.

I genuinely was taken in by this as well. I really was. The fact that I couldn't remember Johnson asking me to carry out this role and my quoted response to the happy appointment, I simply put down to the seven lost hours I was unconscious following a session with the lads down at The Commercial where, when I awoke my pants were round my ankles, a strong smell of Ether was present upon my fat face and my rectum felt unusually tender around the anal hoop. Course, we've all read about it haven't we. It's so bloody depressing. Many years ago, Twowheels with or without an 'e' picked up on this much repeated Council mantra, 'if we want the best, we've gotta pay the best' and we've all been running with it ever since. Well, it hasn't worked has it. Despite the whole getting the best and paying the best we always end up with getting the worst and, as far as I can see, despite our moans and groans and Bill Tanner's noble reporting skills, buggar all seems to change. We are nothing more than a teat on the udder of the Council Cash Cow and until something radical happens nothing will ever change.

If you live within the Newton Farm Ward and you want to vote Independent, your choice is the mighty Glenda Vaughan Powell or the less than insignificant Phillip Edwards. Having met our Glenda and sat behind Phil at the infamous Kindle Centre meeting where one Amanda Martin emerged and verbally slaughtered Johnson and Morgan, I know which one I'd vote for. It'd be that formidable woman Glenda Vaughan Powell. Yes, I'd vote for our Glenda. If any Councillor deserves loyalty and reward for all the horrid things that can tip your life upside down its Glenda. Despite her recent health problems and despite being reported to the Council Standards Committee because some of her colleagues became jealous of her success, this battle and brawler has emerged from the bad times and is still fighting and doing her very best for her constituents. Then you've got Phil a man who once said to his drinking buddy whilst I was hid beneath their table eavesdropping in on their private conversation I had no business listening in on, 'I bloody hate my constituents' and a man who's income is supplemented playing Widow Twanky thrice weekly at the Birmingham Hippodrome. I know which one I'd vote for. Glenda Vaughan Powell, and anyone who thinks differently disagrees with me and places far to much emphasis on Phils ability to apply foundation cream and red blusher to his face whilst trying to convince five hundred schoolchildren that he's a girlie and worth another run starring in Aladdin!

Greenknight, that's a sublimely good piece of writing pal. Astonishingly good.

Myhatmycoat, You've put me in my place and slapped me. I deserve it and more. Good for you pal. I take my hat off to you. I'm glad you chewed at me. It'll do me some good. My very best wishes to you mate.

Myhatmycoat, Firstly, my very warmest regards to you. Before I dig my teeth into your rump and give it my best shot to belittle your argument let me tell you that nothing I say is personal, it's not an attack upon you, albeit, when you read this offering you might conclude that it is and be a little bruised by the experience. For bloody starters, I've never met a patient who has ever described a trip to the Doctors as a 'Brilliant' and a 'Perfect' experience. More than likely they'll say, ''what a dreadful experience. I hope I never have to endure that procedure again.' Course, if I were a slave to this new Arms Length Company, I was on the payroll and having the time of my life sitting there, doing little or nothing and being asked to return over and over again for the high pay, I too might describe my encounter with Taurus as 'Brilliant' and 'Perfect'. As it is, I've got no connection with Taurus and I'm completely at ease with this arrangement, cognisant that I'm not playing a part in yet another pointless gimmick that strips away the wealth of our National Health Service and delivers us all up another problem to address in two years time when all the Doctors in the City openly say, 'what a waste of bloody time and money that was. How do we rid ourselves of Taurus'. It's a load of rubbish and despite your nicely worded testimonial that proclaims 'it' to be a joyous moment in Health Care development, it is what it is. A dog of an idea that's being used as a vehicle for career development by some staff who don't care as much about the NHS as they should. I say, take this baby Taurus to the bathtub and drown it.

Well, if Roger is right, and he will be, they'll all, without even thinking about it, go into 'reputation management' mode. They simply cannot help themselves. This is the curse of public service and despite the high calibre of people like Sue Thomas, a fine fine person, she'll fall into the trap as well because they all do and they always will do. It's simply the way of things. They'll gather together, discuss the impact this thread has had upon Local Policing, they'll convince themselves wrongly that elements within the writings are sub judicial and a likely threat to any future prosecution and then it'll be 'what do we bloody well do'. Some local Inspector, guided by the wisdom of the local media officer who's being paid a salary I'd strangle my wife for, will suggest that the proprietor of the HV domain be approached and get the thread pulled until someone with sense, probably Sue Thomas will explain that after Cardin jumped in and tweeted it to near on a hundred thousand people it's hardly going to bloody help their cause of reputation management. Then, after realising that the Tweeter is Paul Cardin of Wirral In It Together, and it was he who tweeted a hundred thousand strangers, they'll go off on a tangent, completely forget about the purpose of their meeting, some fool will happen to bump into Bill Norman down at Plough Lane, who, when he hears the name Cardin will go into a rage! thump the tea lady and the word 'vexatious' gets into the mindset of the local Chief Constable. Meanwhile, the West Mercia Legal Team draw up a letter addressed to Cardin branding him 'vexatious' for a third time, he gets it served on him on his doorstep, he tweets this latest affront to civil liberty and another five hundred thousand strangers get to hear about a guy called Julian who was minding his own business gazing through his vehicles windscreen when his world fell apart after a confrontation with an Officer who didn't like the question, 'why are you doing this to me'. Can they manage this latest social media problem? No they bloody can't!

Bilbo bobby, Pal, I've no idea why your second post was deleted. My very warmest regards to you. Pal, when you joined the Police many years ago they dressed you in a particular way which was quickly and easily recognisable to all members of the public. The uniform you wore was of course traditional in its design but more than anything it projected a view that here was someone of authority and someone who could be approached. This uniform was designed and issued to our Police Officers after many decades of experience on how to present themselves to the people. It was no accident that your uniform was the way it was. Now, like many and most things, past experience of what went before have been discarded and the new lot, the hierarchy with little or no operational experience have rewritten the model for the entire Police service. Out have gone your old uniform which you were once proud to wear and in have come the robes and trappings that are more associated with a paramilitary organisations. Quite simply, if you dress Officers like they are now doing they'll do exactly what the dress code requires. They become aggressive, intolerant, they become stars in their own little movie and they develop traits that have nothing in common with what was required of you when you first joined the Police. In days gone by if you met me staggering out of the battle cruiser howling at the moon you'd have pulled me to one side, given me some summary advice and sent me on my way. Now, all this has changed. That direct interaction between the public and the Police is fast disappearing and being replaced by a hit and run style that only serves to drive a wedge between us and them. Is it all the fault of the Police? No it's not. Of course it's not. Society gets what it deserves and up to this particular moment in time we've got the Police Service we deserve. Detached, distant, often overly aggressive and having no real grasp of how this impacts upon the paying public. Me? I've tried many times to engage in a conversation with Officers and I've discovered this......many, particularly the younger Officers cannot communicate. They simply can't chat to people. They don't know how to and from where I'm sitting, many have no desire to learn how to do it. You, people like Roger Williams and many other Officers were good. Very good but like all generational things, the cycle of recruiting the right type of person has been broken and from what I can see it ain't going to get fixed anytime soon. Once again, my very warmest regards to you pal.

I see the liar has emerged from his burrow! God only knows why Milliband has beckoned this tap dancing devil of a man with the Far Away Eyes to tip up at Sedgefield and tell us all why we should not even consider leaving the European Union and to place our waning trust in the runt of the Milliband litter. The bloody cheek of it! Bloody man! Bloody Blair! Him and his Far Away Eyes that moreorless imply that he and only bloody he has had a blessed vision from the Almighty and only he can deliver us all from our bloody misery. The Barstard! Mark my words, this evangelical bloodstained souless preacher who's private letters to George bloody Bush we shall never read, prays nightly to the God that slew Kane and Able that he can be gifted the Stigmata. He'd bloody love that wouldn't he. The deaths of thousands on his hands and the prostitution of all things that we all hold dear gifted the bloody marks of the Stigmata. My God! Imagine Blair with his Far Away Eyes gazing lovingly into the camera as we all sit back and watch in awe as he takes on the sins of the world and before our watching eyes he bleeds before us. The mans mad! Yes! Completely detached from reality and digested by his own egotistical thoughts that he and Bush were right to launch their shock and awe attack upon a bunch of people that never ever bothered me. There's only one outcome for this former Right Honourable Member of Parliament and it's the Courts of Justice at The Hague. I just hope that I live to see the day this false prophet is made to face the enormity of his crimes against humanity. The Barstard!