At the End of the Day

The French depression that dare not speak its name, Autumn fires on the verge of being lit, and the Jihadists’ new secret weapon.

As we can’t trust any government’s statistics any more, I decided that tonight I’d give you an eye on the ground view of how France’s economy is faring.

It is faring not thee well.

I was in my local Département capital city two days ago. Regular Sloggers will by now be familiar with my reports, and sadly this one is no different: a kitchen refurbishment chain has closed down, two out of the three Chinese restaurants have gone to the wall….while a fashion outlet, sports shop, snackerie, and petfoods centre are no more.

Last week I had to order some stones for an area of the garden here. Usually the delivery is within three days. This time, the bloke said he could do it that afternoon. He simply hasn’t got enough work to keep me waiting. (There are signs in that sentence that I’m going native).

Bear in mind, where I live is one of France’s richest agricultural areas. What a good job Brussels was on the ball for once, and changed the definition of bankruptcy for statistical reporting purposes.

Autumn marches on towards winter. For the first time last night, I put the heating on at 9pm – just for a couple of hours – and its only a matter of time before the fire comes into play. There has been much sawing and stacking of logs.

I find a certain excitement in all that, but I can never quite keep the sadness at bay as the outside furniture is dragged into the cellar and stored there beneath copious depths of plastic cover for the winter.

There’s definitely an element of the leftover hibernation insitinct in me: I’m very much a stoke up the fire and snuggle under a thick duvet sort of bloke in winter. But there’s something about mothballing summer outdoors stuff that makes me think of everything from silly grasshoppers to homeless humans struggling to stay alive.

It’s pathetic I know, but I can’t help it.

The Sunday Times reports that “glamour model” Kimberley Miners has been arrested by UK terrorist police on charges of engaging with Jihadists to recruit British born Islamic terrorists.

Her recuitment tactic of choice, it seems, was getting her tits out. This seems to me a little off-message, given the preference of Islamic men to have their women displaying only two eyes from within a black heavy cotton bell tent. Which…

….as you can see from this tasteful pose, really isn’t what Kimberley is about. Indeed, she is keen to make this clear:

“I myself am not active on any social media and do not have contact with anyone in association with terrorism,” Kimbo told the Daily Telegraph. The only flaw in her defence is that all her various Facebook accounts are ‘friends’ with an Isis recruiter in Syria called Abu Usamah al-Britani. And Abu is indeed recruiting a new generation of jihadist brides from the West.

If you can’t trust a Jihadist kamikaze to adhere strictly to the rules of inhibited and clumsy premature ejaculation, then who can you trust? That’s what I ask – and why not?