Ill cat: the update

After a tense night, tears and me accusing my mother of trying to kill the cat, himself has been taken to the vet and the abcess has been lanced.

I'm very proud of poor little scabby fat face. It was on his throat so he stood up and defended himself and his territory in the fight. And at the vets he was as good as gold, realising that we were helping him.

So that's all good and now he's frolicking around the garden, back to chasing balls of wool and butterflies.

Staying with stinking puss filled cavities which need draining and cleansing, it's the secret ballot for speaker.

I'm going with Ann Widdecombe for this one as I do think she's one of the rare ones who puts principles before position and party. Just what we need at the moment after the last one, albeit I think he was made a scapegoat for the rotten institution.

How Beckett and Bercow are favourites I don't know. For a start we've had two Labour speakers so following it up with a former Labour Foreign Secretary and a man who is more left wing than Tony Blair is hardly a step in the right direction.

But how much difference will it actually make? It's cosmetic in its symbolism: you caught us out, we got rid of one of them, now we'll carry on as we were. For the publication of the 'expense files' the other day with their black lines to cover up scandal, were a demonstration in how it's one rule for them and another thousand for us, the pay masters.

Hiding addresses so we can't see the tax avoidance of the people who vote for tax increases in the name of protection when these are the people who regularly loose our data on trains and want us chipped and bar coded to fulfill their EU obligation stinks like the pool of bloodstained pus which showered from the neck of poor wee puss.
The police might investigate, the parties might wag fingers and a few might stand down after another year of being fed, sheltered and watered courtsey of the public tit but it doesn't change the fact that for years they thought it was okay and many still do.

They are ill in their attitude towards what they deserve. This culture of entitlement we criticise chavs and people who sue the council for tripping over the pavement is the same mentality currently governing the country.

If I had to commute to work I pay for it out of my salary. I knew that when I took the job, I like it or lump it.

If I have to live somewhere else during the week then that's something I knew when I found out about the job. Competition means that the salary should reflect certain features about the job, such as desirability and the number of people going for it. If they don't want to travel for work then I'm sure there are other people who would do the job for much less money.

How can we expect them to do something about the terminally unemployed Jeremy Kyle watchers when they're of the same mentality?

So whilst SFF may feel much better and be way on the road to recovery after a lancing and a dose of antibiotics, I feel that what has developed in our political system is more malignant and needs a course of radiotherapy to cure. Preferably in the form of a General Election with decent debate on policies.