FLUORIDE WASTE DISPOSAL PROJECT

To afford a house I had to move to the backwoods: Lincoln.  The UK one.

In 1982 I found myself the first to learn that from 1970 its population had been force-fed waste from Fisons fertiliser factory at Immingham.  Europe's largest phosphate plant had run out of room for it.

I hope solar panel production won't mean more fluoridated people.  The first symptom of silicofluoride surpluses is PR people.  Experts are worried about the average state of average people's teeth, they'll say.

Dentists can earn more fixing teeth damaged by fluoride than by filling holes.  But to swallow this fluoridation story you have to believe dentists support it.  So why did they want to put themselves out of business?

If there were any pro-fluoride experts they must have been hiding all those 20 years.  Behind the chemical alteration of Lincoln's feti with this neurodevelopmental toxin were only banal pen-pushers who were too scared of looking ridiculous to debate with me.

That's how weak Lincoln's MP, Anglian Water and  Lincoln City Council's basis for fluoridating people was.  The usual way we deal with official neighbourhood poisonings is to pretend it isn't happening.  Mine is to satirise unsafe totalitarian pseudoscience.  I made some hideously inauthentic freemasons' lives hell and hell, I'm proud of that. 

You can live well off dumping waste in Lincoln's arteries. You can't earn a penny opposing it.  A neo-nazi stabbed me in the neck. The cops let him get away.  My partner's daughter's adult teeth never grew properly. The bin men wouldn't take my rubbish.  Lincoln's fluorocrats made me an unperson.  Life was impossible.  I sold up and went.

Are you a bit of a mug when it comes to fluoridation?  Take this simple test to find out if you think like a human being or a woolly-brained fluorocratic bumblebum.                        Look at the photo.                         Do you see an area?  Can you spot a man?  And I expect you noticed some water.                        Area.                Man.                 Water.               Now think very very carefully.                     Which one of these three has teeth?                    Are they yours?                Are they public?                      If you easily answered MAN NO NO you are a perfectly normal person.             Your common sense is its own reward - you won't get a job fluoridating people or any money reward with those answers.                          But maybe you feel uneasy right now instead.                   Perhaps the truth is that you avoided a direct answer?                    Sadly, these are the classic symptoms of woolly-minded fluorocratic bumblebumdom.                  As a sufferer you are a dangerously smug apparatchik, over-obedient and addicted to damaging behaviour.             With your arrogant thoughtlessness you are potentially capable of a profitable chemical attack on babies in the womb for the greater good of the superphosphate industry.                     My unpaid job is to make you look again and again until you get the answers right.                Until then I will relentlessly take the piss out of your organisation and you personally in any medium I choose.                   Probably you only fell into this latter-day Lysenkoism out of a misguided sense of professional duty.                 You feel you can hide your intellectual laziness behind your company logo.             You do not see yourself as part of a program for chemically altering populations in areas with water supplies.                   Cults can be dangerous.                  Fortunately there is a cure.                 Woolly-minded fluorocratic bumblebums can use this simple cult de-programming technique.               Whenever you see the phrase "fluoridated water" repeat "Water does not have any teeth" ten times.               If you hear something about a "fluoridated area" say "Areas do not have any teeth" ten times.                    Try it now, out loud.                                                                                            Go on.                      Tell the others at the secret meeting.               Of course, that takes courage.               And the will to oppose lazy groupthink.               You weren't hired for that.

Do I feel more positive about burritos than some soccer club?  Yes. The Burrito Junkie is currently active in the field of burrito research.

BURRITOS - BETTER THAN LIVERPOOL?

STINKY CHICKEN FACTORY PROJECT

Rather than dwell amid psychos chemically altered before birth by masonic mayors I went to live by a big smelly Slovenian chicken factory.  

For a small-town mentality you need only two things: a small town, and a mentality.  Throughout a century of royalist, nazi, communist and uncle-ist administrations the stench of drying blood and boiling guts has pumped out over the charming, historic little town it owns.  

As the traditional, family-oriented home of "post"-communist corporate embezzlement and political graft, you can do whatever you want in Slovenia.  Jesus is personally available to forgive your sins in every village, in return for a non-repayable bank loan and total mind control.  You might ask, what was ever invented in Slovenia?  The answer is - everything!  The only humans to reproduce asexually, Slovenians are unique, but take a dim view of flirting, which they assume  is the prelude to a brutal assault.  Some confuse humour with hate.

Sick of foreigners running the place, since 1991 Slovenia has been sorting everything out by itself, occasionally visiting abroad to fetch more money.  Recently the very friendly natives have been protesting over how disappointed they are about themselves. 

But ultimately Slovenia is female and can't confront anything.  As with the wider politic, to oppose the stinky air of Chickentown, it would need official permission...from the same people it would be protesting about.  

One guy did campaign once about the stinks - but had his tyres slashed.  Finally someone arrived without chicken genes, car, or relatives in town.

With no choice but to be proud of their foreigner-proof language, Slovenians love to boast how their different regions can barely even understand each other.  Reminded of the versatility of English - and all the accompanying concepts from which they are barred - some descend into a resentful melancholy at their linguistic misfortune. 

NPOSIALPU is using funnies to try to clean the air up.  In retaliation, easily manipulated nose-deaf drunken smokers have been ordered to focus monotonously upon the outsider's Achilles heel, so it's speak Slovene or get your face smashed in.  Just one English-speaker is enough to support an ideology of foreign invasion.  Can you be battered into learning a language? Ptuj thinks so.  Would they find another reason if I did?  I think so.

Both pong and lingo are each in their own way unspeakable.

No tourism please, we're drinking

SAY YES!