Tim Wade's Blog

The gestapo tactics of the British government have even finally sprouted wings and flown into the sacred city of Turin, famous for the shroud of Jesus and the Grand Madre, amongst various other tourist attractions.

Having my parked my ‘motorhome’ (with English registration plates and advertising ‘tourist’ all over it) some gestapo member of the Torino Polizia Municipale, didn’t have the common sense to appreciate that my ticket (that had been purchased to the maximum accepted by the automated ticket machine) had just expired less than an hour before, or the fact that it was bucketing down with rain, and I hadn’t returned to replace it. He obviously was short of parking spaces in the park full of people that day, for the zero people in the park, and the zero other cars in the parking bays.

At least in Italy it is only 22€ plus the 1.50€ commission you pay to the tabacchi (tabacconist) where they make it easy for you to pay the fine. As a respectful and law abiding citizen I paid it!

I hope the small penis’ed officer number 99231 dies a painful death and is served with many other similar cold and rainy Saturday’s getting totally soaked in empty car parks, and would like to ask him if he likes cowardly victimizing innocent citizens so much, why didn’t he join the UK police force or government? Instead of being a proper Italian policeman in the Carabinieri or Polizia, you are just doing parking and traffic in the Polizia Municipale. You are simply making money for your local authorities to waste devising other similar stupid systems to persecute their own citizens!

You must be stupid?

Please leave your comments on Local Authorities, Parking and Parking Wardens below:

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Living outside the system is relatively easy, even in foreign countries and speaking a different language. As long as you have a ‘sellable and marketable’ skill you should always find work, and of course living outside the system, you don’t have to charge for any tax and most employers are happy to pay you this lesser amount from their own pocket. As long as you do a good job, you are required again and again.

No matter how much governments try to clamp down on it, they of course have overstretched and underpaid resources. We all know just how lazy government officials and civil servants are too. And with the amount of ‘gypsies’ I have come across I my travels, I see that there are much more important people to go after than me. I’m not hiding or running after all. I’m simply enjoying meeting new people and experiencing new places, and not locked to a house where I have to pay all this money to the British government in Income Tax, NI and Council Tax etc. Why should I? After all I have been to Iraq, Bosnia and Rwanda to ‘keep Britian a free country’ – now I am simply enjoying the ‘free’ bit they advertised.

And as for tax? I pay as much as the next man – fuel tax, cigarette tax and beer tax, the list goes on. If asked by the British government why I’m not contributing to them the answer is very simple. I’d rather pay the French or Spanish their tax in their 1.50€ bottle of wine, than pay Britain their tax on a £4.99 same bottle of wine. They are the greedy bastards that tax everything so much. And if I haven’t lived in the UK (and haven’t), why should I pay them anything?

I love my free life; and am willing to fight to preserve it….

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Again an establishment arises that is worthy of praise in my blog. The ‘Derryman’ is a typical British bar just back from the beach in Benalmadena on the Costa del Sol, but with one difference. Lots of people use it.

On becoming a regular and being rewarded with my 2€ a pint beer by Pete, I amazed the whole pub by immediately befriending the best looking woman in there (hi Lillian from Salford), and amazing Dottie the landlady by walking her out of the place, all within 10 minutes of arriving. But enough about Lillian.

Xmas dinner was a great invitation; thanks Pete. I can’t even remember paying that day. The day was shared with a guy Gary who had another big motor home (we both parked right outside), a guy named P. who reportedly opened safes for the PIRA, a Danish sex case we had to protect everybody from and a very drunk middle aged Arsenal supporter. One of the sunniest Xmas’s I have had!

Dottie and Pete did a fine spread. Thanks.

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The UK is bloody ridiculous for parking tickets. Everywhere that can possibly have lines painted on the road to stop or charge you for parking has had, and private companies are employed to search and persecute the innocent motorist that can no longer park near his local shops, facilities or the beach.

Parking wardens employed by these private companies (that are also sufferers of ‘little big mans syndrome’ with very small penis’s) are paid on a performance related pay scheme, ie the more tickets and fines they hand out, the more they get paid.

Well, fuck you. In Fort William I put my ticket in the slot of the machine, jamming it up so it required fixing, and no further person could pay either.

And (fuck you twice) in York after driving round the ring road not finding any space or car park accepting a 10.5 metre motor home, I parked in the coach park. Imagine my disgust when after returning from an hours shopping I not only had a ticket, they had locked me into the coach park with a chain on the gate. I wouldn’t mind, but it was midweek, chucking it down with rain and there were no coaches anyway, let alone tourists – I was the only one. Needless to say I got out my angle grinder and generator to cut their lock of the gate. After closing it behind me, it only then dawned on me – sacrifice the expensive security lock on my bicycle, and locked them out of their own car park.

Sort the parking out Britian – nowhere else in Europe uses parking to generate revenues. If you wisely spent the money you had instead of fighting stupid wars and giving it away in Public Private Partnership schemes, you wouldn’t need it.

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The VAT & Fiddle in Nottingham has to be one of my all time favorites ever (along with several other hundreds of favorites).

The brewery house of Castle Rock Brewery, it serves perfect pints of Castle Rock and guest ales, and has a selection of over 10 different ales to choose from at any one time. When I was last in Nottingham the beer was brewed by a rather nice chap from Somerset, Adrian and the pub was run by his then girlfriend Sarah.

Also great for the ambiance of the days drinking were the unfeasibly large cobs (a bread roll to a Nottingham outsider; I hope they haven’t got any smaller), and the pubs regular clients always on hand to provide a bit of humor and banter.

I miss my days in there with Russ and Barry, but now no longer have to live with the sole cause of the misery I drank to escape, so life is better. One day I might return. I just hope the cobs haven’t got any smaller.

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These, amongst the most horrible people available on the planet today, make peoples lives a misery and they mince about calling themselves Debt Collectors and Private Investigators. They usually work privately, and on behalf of scrounging ex-wives, banks and credit card companies – people with money to collect.

Nine times out of ten they come from bullied backgrounds, often with failed careers in the Police, the Armed Forces and other usually government institutions. They all suffer from the same ‘little big mans syndrome’ where they feel they have to be nasty to everyone because they were never left any dinner money at school, where they were bullied and tormented continuously. Usually they are sad, lonely individuals, unable to have fun (or even comprehend what fun is) and never excel at anything sporting.

They hover the world in their own lonely lives hiding from the people they are grassing up, and snitching on. They are blatantly obvious to spot as because they usually failed all the physical tests to get to the fieldcraft part of any military training, they have to rely on their childhood volumes of ‘Combat and Survival’ magazine to learn their trade, as such, stick out like an erection in a undersized wetsuit.

I hate them and will not rest in peace until I have broken my baseball bat on any that follow me. Other equally painful experiences await them.

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Isn’t it great the way conversations go.

Whilst talking about all things marketing with a friend Steve today, he mentioned the marketing problems experienced by dental manufacturers to sell more. Do they release a new range of tounge brushes, to encourage you use more toothpaste, or do they simply widen the mouth of your toothpaste tube so you naturally use more?

This is when he hit on the new niche market of “genital toiletries”. A range of tools, brushes, potions and creams for the male and female genital areas. Great. I can imagine the TV advertising campaigns now. Having you queuing for products such as Quimperial Leather. Mothers moaning at their kids “Have you brushed your penis Timothy?”.

Steve was particularly interested in the female range. Whether this was for personal use, or product evaluation purposes I’m not too sure, but I could hazard a guess knowing Steve

Just imagine if it soon become the norm. Just imagine being called a dirty bastard because you don’t brush your private parts three times a day?

I just wouldn’t want to borrow anybody else’s toothpaste…”No thanks, I brush them without toothpaste thanks all the same”.

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I can hear everybody asking me why waste all this time, money and effort on having your own blog?

Well the answer is not specific and covers many different reasons:

- A sort of online diary of my life, that can be referred to. To assess moods and activities.
- A source of income from the Google (what a great invention) Ads you will see appearing everywhere.
- As a web designer, I wanted a more online project than writing a simple diary.
- A source of contact for my family and friends, and a means of keeping them updated as to what I am doing.
- A medium where I can better understand myself and to help others better understand me.

As well as a whole host of other reasons.

And just because articles and pages seem to get posted by me from various IP addresses on the Internet, it should never be assumed that it is me at all

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There comes a point in most motivated peoples minds when they feel they need to move on, forward, upwards or just to do something totally different. Maybe work situations are not perfect, maybe relationships have broken down, or maybe you are just completely bored of your life and need something different.

I have moved on many times in my life, always requiring fresh changes and challenges. Maybe this is wrong and upsetting for those I have left behind, maybe it is rewarding for those that I move on to meet. Besides, I am not here for other people; well not initially anyway. If I like someone, I stay, if I don’t then why should I be there for them. Too many people in the world today expect just to take, take, take and have everyone sit about slaving after them.

Well it’s definitely not for me. So you move on. Some call it running away, some call it facing new challenges, some call it bettering themselves; call it what you will? Better a happy runner, than a repressed and depressed conformist. Of course if you like being a conformist then sit about in that city and keep paying that council tax. I don’t make choices for those that don’t pay me to do so, and it is after all; a free world.

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