Why I Won’t Be Voting Today

Local and European Elections are taking place across the UK today to determine the faith of our local Councils and representation at the European Parliament.

It is a day of reckoning for politicians as it is the only time that the public wield more power.

Politicians, who hold little regard to the needs of their constituents most days, become friendlier than a hooker in post World War II Berlin.

Whilst I am appreciative of the choice that is available to me to be able to vote without fear of repercussions or drones coming down on me for stepping out of my house or even that I as someone who happens to be of the female persuasion can even cast a vote (our lot always tend to get the wet end of the stick); however today I am choosing not to take up the offer.

I chose to not exercise my democratic right and join the legions of other British (and European) voters today. I know the Suffragettes would be turning in their graves at my assertion…SORRY.

I couldn’t reach one conclusive answer as to what is stopping me from embarking on the short-ish journey to the nearest polling station. So true to my indecisive form I devised a list explaining my reasoning. Hear me out folks…

Ahem… So you know…

1. That pothole you promised to fix at the last elections it is still there. Instead of fixing it you empty my bin once every 2 weeks. What kind of a deal is that?

2. The only time I see the lot of you is around this time of the year. Dressing up in your tracksuit and hand delivering your propaganda won’t score you any extra brownie points either.

3. The xenophobes are having a field day. They are spoilt for choice, UKIP, BNP, Britain First, et al, why can’t the rest of you give me such a varied composition of faithful politicians, eh?

4. In this particular moment in time the only queue I care about beating is the one to the communal kitchen microwave at work.

5. Seriously though have you seen the weather?! My apparel of choice isn’t appropriate for this downpour… Is there an app I can vote on?!

6. Is it weird that I dig Farrage’s sartorial sensibilities more? I mean if this was a style contest he would have won hands down. Tracksuit guy take a note!

7. I am agoraphobic and thus fearful of inescapable situations. Such as when Tracksuit candidate casts puppy eyed looks my way pleading with me to tick his name on the ballot papers. What do I say to him when he finds out I haven’t “sorry mate its purely sartorial based, erm your policies are commendable though, erm I think…?!!”

8. Ain’t nobody got time for liars!

9. Would it get Farrage off my screen if I do hmm?

10. Oh I am not even registered to vote…..

 

OOPSIE!!!

 

The United Nations of Football

It is that time once again, where foreign flags of friendship reign supreme… Side by side they stand in a perfectly choreographed choir singing internationally recognised hymns – chasing dreams of conquering round stuffed objects. Where countries that once fought as foes, in the United Nations of football now stand side by side and compete in healthy wars.

They now find themselves in league tables where there are no guarantees to permanent membership; the weak and absolute all in the same category. Or is it? I suppose the cynic in us would say it only takes bribing a pundit or two to match fix. I quite fancy the look of Group G- what do you make of it?

It is that time once again where new identities emerge and old trans-national identities are challenged. Will I support England – I suppose UKIP would want me to, or would I root for France, or perhaps Spain..? I know Nick Clegg would strongly support the latter. Hmm maybe I am not so sure anymore. I know David Cameron would welcome my reticence. Let’s go for a referendum he would say and we shall go for majority vote. Labour and Ed Miliband wouldn’t want me to discriminate. I can almost hear their cries of we are all equal and each team brings something different. Ed and Co would have me support the whole World. Well funny they should say that because I am a lover of all things underdog. Such was the case during the 2010 World Cup quarter finals between Ghana and Uruguay.

In retrospect (what a joy of a mental tool that is), there were two things that stuck out for me during that game. Of course I am not sure if Uruguay would qualify as an underdog because I am not aware of their football plight or the lack of it. But Ghana I was semi versed in their footballing plight, at least within the context of the African Cup of Nations and thus Ghana was an obvious choice to rally as part of my campaign to pledge support for all the teams that were unlikely to go past the first qualifying rounds.

Any who, the thing or things that stuck out for me during that long winded game where neither teams were ready to call it a day was that:

1. Londoners were uncharacteristically friendly even engaging in football banter (I happened to be in London at the time of that game). As a Northerner I always had that lot as an aloof forever grumpy bunch. We Northerners will always strike a conversation with one another (99.999% of the time it will always be about the weather).

 

2. I found my body ridding itself of any lady like attributes it may ever have had. I had what I could only characterise as an out of body experience. Imagine a five foot five (and three quarters) lass amongst a swamp of testosterone rage, shouting obscenities at a plasma screen urging Asamoah Gyan to better not miss that penalty!!!

 

Lo and behold when he did miss it, I was protesting profusely that I could have done a better job. Where did I see such display of tantrums before, eh? More importantly how did I come to learn such behaviour?

Ahh such is Football…and life in general I suppose… you win some you lose some.