Tiggle Tiggle

The choice was simple and straightforward; my friend had been ill for a couple of years and she turned to her health-on-line health insurance that came as part of her employment benefits after yet another unsatisfactory diagnosis from her NHS doctor.

Within two weeks the cause of her illness was identified and, thankfully, quickly treated, but she had been reluctant to use the private medical insurance, even though she was not the one paying for it, because she believes in a fair chance for everyone, and not privileges for the privileged. That model of thinking works fine if what’s on offer doesn’t threaten your life, but when it does, and no one in the NHS seems to be able to help, why shouldn’t you use other services if they are going to save you?

They annoy me, those who stand on their socialist soap box and preach about the fact that people shouldn’t be allowed to pay to get better health care if they want to when in poor health. I don’t believe for a second that they wouldn’t pay if it meant there was a better chance one of their family members would survive.

A recent survey by Alcoholics Alrighty found that nine out of ten chavs can’t tell the difference between real Champagne and Lambrini. This is no surprise really, their taste buds being blasted beyond recognition over the years through special-brew annihilation, but what is surprising is that the survey also found that nine out of ten posh people can’t tell the difference, either.

Collette Hanley-Willybolt, 33 and from Kent is a posh person who failed to recognise that what she was sipping was in fact sparkling pear wine, rather than Champers. “One had no idea one was not drinking the real stuff.  One is disgusted with oneself, hic. I fancy David Cameron.”

Leroy Morgan, 12, couldn’t tell the difference either, and had this to say: “F****** W*****, why don’t you f*** off. Hic.”

But whatever the proles may think, It is acceptable to toast a celebratory event with Champagne or, if you live on one of the council estates where kids run around stabbing and shooting each other all day every day, Cava.

Champagne is undeniably the catalyst for many inappropriate and embarrassing escapades, conversations and often actions too, only it allows all of the above to occur within the ‘acceptable’ bracket.

Another case was made today for taking short breaks rather than package holidays  as news broke, surprise surprise, that advertised ‘bargain deals’ you spot in the back of the tabloids on a Sunday don’t live up to the claims they make.

You know the kind; 14 NIGHTS MALTA ALL INCLUSIVE £350PP. Seems too good to be true? As the cliché goes, it’s because it usually is.

Consumer group Which? Discovered that half of all adverts sampled for their investigation gave the wrong prices for the holidays they offered, with many of the advertised attractions also falling short in reality of what the adverts promised.

It’s a shame for consumers that some holiday companies deem it acceptable to lure customers in with false promises. Yet the soaring prices of foreign holidays has led to many simply ditching two weeks in the sun for short breaks in the UK which offer hassle-free holidaying, as well as stimulation for the mind, something which is often very much lacking in a beach holiday.

Covert surveillance is so much easier these day, what with the tinterweb and such like. It means you can pretty much spy on anyone you want to, for whatever reasons you may have, all without them knowing.

This is pretty much what covert surveillance means. But have you ever though you might be being covertly surveillenced yourself? Or that we all might be?

I had this thought once: who owns Facebook? Yeah, I know, Zuckerburg apparently. But really? What if the Government wanted to create some kind of national database of citizens, a la nanny state? What if it wanted all its citizens to have national identity cards? Would that be easy to implement? Probably not – the nanny state nags would no doubt kick up a big old hoo-har.

But what about this idea… invent ’social networking’ and witness 4 billion people around the world register all of their personal details, sometimes their home addresses and phone numbers, employment statuses and general activities, all verified with photographic evidence. Voila!

Bald men might be less likely to get cancer, according to some new American research.

Researchers studied 2,000 men, and found those that lost their hair earlier had a lower risk of prostate cancer.

Good news for baldies then, but that’s the only good news really, isn’t it?

Who ACTUALLY fancies baled men? Ironic those men with more testosterone should end up folically challenged. It’s like feeding a dog zinc pills for a month and then locking him up in a cell with a tiny window that offers a view of lots of bitches frolicking around, naked.

And what is nature getting at, making men bald anyway? Hair: we must need it, otherwise we wouldn’t have it, bit like our arms, lungs or hearts. So why do some people lose it?

Hair’s a funny one in other ways, too. What is the purpose of facial hair? Surely if humans NEEDED facial hair for warmth, then women would have it too?

Women on the pill might live longer, fact. That’s the news that broke today after the conclusion of a study by some scientists led by a professor at the University of Aberdeen.

Great. I mean, it’s great if you ignore all the other evidence that points to the pill increasing women’s risk of breast cancer. So if you don’t get the big BC, you might live a bit longer if you’ve been on the pill at some point.

This truly does compensate for having to swallow a pill every day. But it’s not the only benefit; there is of course the mammoth weight gain, the moodiness/borderline personality change, the increased risk of having a massive stroke, which is never an attractive look, and the massively depleted sex drive, which kind of defeats the purpose of being on the pill in the first place.

You might also find that after taking the pill for a while that you no longer need to take it, because you have been sleeping with boys who have been sleeping with other people, also on the pill, and so a nice STI has made you infertile. Yay!

Quite often I swing between polarised theories, the first being that you can find another that you love, have intimacy of the mind and body, and both be totally crazy about each other excluding all others, the second being that none of us are programmed to be monogamous, and one partner goes off the other within a couple of years and whether or not they at first were completely and insanely in love with them, they soon find anyone but their partners exciting and attractive.

I think I could have been in all four positions at some point in my life so far (there ARE four: the lover and the lovee in both scenarios) and I’m in one now, too. But I imagine that much of the current fashion (think Ashley, John Terry, and now, shock horror, little Mark Owen) for cheating is further cultivated by modern life.

Think about work scenarios; corporate events give everyone a great deal of temptation, don’t they? Going away on a jolly with all those people you sit with all day and actually spend more time with than your own partner? Throw in a load of alcohol and hotel rooms and expect the worst.

By 2013, 288 million people will be using VoIP phones, came the futuristic prediction today from market research firm In-Stat that will see us move a step closer to Matrix-style living.

But seriously, there must be loads of industries completely done over by new technological developments.

What about telephone companies once mobile phones hit the market? I don’t think I know anyone with a landline anymore, except for my parents.

Mobile phone companies must have thought they’d hit the jackpot when texting first launched at 10p a pop, until social network sites let all the teenagers communicate for free with their mates.

I suppose these companies have gained again really with the advent of mobile internet, but all of it brings again another problem/benefit; depending on who you are: relationship infidelity.

I read this article yesterday, which if you want to you can read here, and it may have just been my maudlin Monday afternoon mood, but I think it put into permanent words many depressing truths, and managed to kill off whatever romantic slivers still remained in me.

Aren’t ecards great? Who really bothers to send real cards now through the post?

Mums, that’s who. And they expect the same in return.

Mums would be horribly offended to receive ecards on Mother’s Day. They would deliberately not check their emails that day, especially if they suspected that you may have sent them an ecard.

This is because mums feel that you should feel incredibly indebted to them; they gave you life ergo you should be eternally grateful.

This is fine and fair enough really, but it depends on how you feel about life. Sometimes, some people feel like it would have been easier and better if they had never been born, and on this day must feel pretty resentful. But that’s not really their mum’s fault; things can go either way before you are born.

You can be born a talented fitty that oozes charm and sophistication, or you could be an introverted wreck, aesthetically challenged and angry at the world. The latter people must wish they could just send ecards and be done with it on Mother’s Day.

The thing about capitalism is, everything depends on money, and so human progress can be somewhat delayed if it’s not making money for the right people.

Say you have an amazing idea, something that is just simply so brilliant, but then you speak to some product designers, find out how much it would cost to manufacture it, and discover it costs too much to make.

There must be loads of brilliant ideas that just haven’t come to fruition because it’s not economically viable.

I’m going to tell you now about some ideas I have that I think, if made, would really enrich my life beyond belief.

I’m a big fan of attention. Not emotional attention, but physical. I love to have my hair stroked as I watch TV, or have a really nice massage. Ideally I’d have these things every night, but I’d settle for every other night.

I don’t have any human in my life that’s willing to indulge me in this kind of pleasure, so there’s the deficit; the need for a product.