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Monday, 4 April 2011


To get British people out protesting takes some organising, a number of placards boasting wit and ingenuity, steel drums, trumpets and kids on shoulders and perhaps the opportunity to smash a few things up but in this town it is in the shape of a sausage. Chorizo was given out last Saturday to entice the locals to hopefully go on a bit of a rampage to protest against the cuts. It also alludes to the word 'chorizo' or crook, a way of poking fun at the greedy capitalists who are taking us all for a ride. While about a hundred folk turned up for the sausage and pretended they were upset by the state of things the rest took to the bars and restaurants. Likewise, I turned the corner in pursuit of more than a banger and was greeted by the feeding of the 49,900, with folk out en masse withought a care in the world. Crisis? What crisis? Or maybe it's just that other philosophy, the one were you eat today and starve tomorrow. Hours earlier a crusty had stopped me in the street and asked for my opinion on the state of things and would I like to write them down as part of the protest to which I replied I thought the bankers should all be lined up and shot but was anyone prepared to do it? I suggested we make placards of Fred Goodwin being spit roasted. She looked a bit ruffled to say the least and fork in the air I left her to pursue culinary delights.

For a small town loads of stuff seems to have kicked off lately. On Sunday morning some gypsies gave someone a bit of a pasting. So much so that he ended up in intensive care. It's still not clear what happened but the gypsies were arrested and while walking up the high street this morning the family members were seen congregating outside the court house and across the road waiting presumably for the verdict.This same morning two men were being tried for an attempted robbery a couple of years ago here in the BBVA where the customers rained chairs down on them in their pathetic attempts at a hold up, firing a gun off in the process. Their excuse? That they are unprofessionals as they have never quite pulled a crime off but have a string of efforts behind them.

This morning I saw some men roaming the plaza which is in danger of being pedestrianised. They looked pleased with themselves so I presumed they were the 'winners' the folk who will get the contract to turn the square into a haven, a leafy glade were a tapa or two can be taken without fear of death by dangerous driving. I read in the paper later that the job should begin in the next few days.

Finally, when Henderson finds himself in a queue he will often protest by bemoaning to anybody within earshot that only Brits and Russians will pass the time patiently doing this activity. Last week he found himself in one at the CAI bank and stormed off but not before he vigorously tapped an idle bank worker chatting to some pals and bellowed that said worker 'had customers'. Today the very same bank worker rushed up to me, who had been instructed by H to get into one of the various queues forming around the bank while he waited strategically in another, and asked if I would like to be served. This was a bit of a result as H thought we may never get served again what with everyone being related to one another here except us.

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