“I’ve no idea really. I still class myself as a mod to be honest – not in the stereotypical sense, not in the way that people see mods. I’d rather class myself as someone who is trying to push it forward a little bit, and avoid the things that so-called mods talk about. I like a nice haircut but not all the other shit that surrounds the culture. I like a nice pair of shoes like anyone, and I still class myself as a mod, but I refuse to be bunged in with all those other fucking wankers.”
British Home Stores, commonly abbreviated to BHS and latterly legally styled BHS Ltd, was a British department store chain with branches mainly located in high streets or shopping centres, primarily selling clothing and household items. It was founded in 1928 by a group of U.S. entrepreneurs.[5]
In its later years, the company began to expand into furniture, electronics, entertainment, convenience groceries and fragrance and beauty products. The company had 164 stores throughout the United Kingdom at the time it entered administration, and 74 international stores across 18 separate territories.[6]
BHS was previously a constituent of the FTSE 100 Index, but was bought by Sir Philip Green in 2000 and taken private. The company became part of Green's Arcadia Group in 2009.
On 12 March 2015, BHS was sold to the consortium Retail Acquisitions Ltd for a nominal price of £1.[7] On 25 April 2016 it was confirmed that the chain had entered administration, following the failure to bring an estimated £60 million into the business, required to safeguard its future.[8]
On 2 June 2016 it was announced that the company would be wound down following failed attempts to find a buyer.[9] The website was closed on 25 July 2016 and all stores had closed by 28 August 2016, bringing a close to trading after 88 years.
The overseas franchises and digital business were sold during the administration period to Al Mana Group, and continue to trade. The remainder of the business went into liquidation on 2 December 2016.
Callin' all the workers plebs
You better think about the future
You better think about your neck
You better think about the shit hairdo you got mate
I work my dreams off for two bits of ravioli
And a warm bottle of Smirnoff
Under a manager that doesn't have a fuckin' clue
Do you want me to tell you what I think about you, Cunt?
I don't think that's a very good idea—do you?
You pockmarked four-eyed shit-fitted shirt, white Converse
And a taste for young girls
Don't send me home with a glint in my eye
I told my family about the fuckin' wage rise
And got fucked on
Devoured
Puked on
And sucked up
You fuckin' fly
The suction on your fly feet
Kept me pinned to the blinds
Whilst your PA rattled out e-mails
Workstation, forced to engage in flirtatious conversation
Fizzy * 3
Well just to keep the job
Just to keep fuck all from turning into a fuckin' nothin' blob
Bang it out; go on tell me what you really think
You got no chin; an' you got no balls to chin 'em with
Glass panels separate you
The mid-price handwash from the bin of used
Public toilet paper towels
We've run foul of the hidden hatred
That festers in dogs like you
Tripwire taut that makes way for the vacuum
Ya piece of fuckin' shit
My name:
Fizzy! [* 3]
Use the sheet of promise and the red shoes of Dorothy
Blanked out on the bed of thick monotony
With the usual stereotypes that fall for the lip
I fuckin' hate rockers; fuck your rocker shit
Fuck your progressive side, sleeve of tattoos
Oompa Loompa blow me down with a feather
Cloak and dagger bollocks
Fizzy! [* 3]
Ahhhh!!
18 comments:
LOL! Very interesting. Sounds like some of the better rantings of Joe Strummer!
JMJ
McFlurry.
A bit of the British "working class"... lol!
They're not 'working', they're out of decent jobs!
Well, at least they've got free health care and can "retire" to 3 hots and a cot courtesy of the NHS. ;)
The British LOWER class, you mean.
PHEW! (:-o
Make mine Mayfair or Maida Vale!
_________ THE BOWERY _________
Oh! The night that I struck New York
I went out for a quiet walk
Folks who are "on to" the city say
Better by far that I took Broadway
But I was out to enjoy the sights
There was the Bow'ry ablaze with lights
I had one of the devil's own nights
I'll never go there any more
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more
I had walked but a block or two
When up came a fellow and me he knew
Then a policeman came walking by
Chased him away and I asked him, "Why?"
"Wasn't he pulling your leg?" said he
Said I, "He never laid hands on me!"
"Get off the Bow'ry, you yep!" said he
I'll never go there any more
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more
I went into an auction store
I never saw any thieves before
First he sold me a pair of socks
Then said he, "How much for the box"?
Someone said,"two dollars," I said "Three"
He emptied the box and gave it to me
"I sold you the box, not the socks," said he
I'll never go there any more
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more
I went into a concert hall,
I didn't have a good time at all
Just the minute that I sat down
Girls began singing "New Coon in Town"
I got up mad and spoke out free
"Somebody put that man out," said she
A man called a bouncer attended to me
I'll never go there anymore
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more
I went into a barber shop
He talked till I thought he would never stop
I said, "Cut it short," he misunderstood
Clipped down my hair just as close as he could
He shaved with a razor that scratched like a pin
Took off my whiskers and most of my chin;
That was the worst scrape I ever got in
I'll never go there any more
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more
I struck a place that they called a "dive"
I was in luck to get out alive
When the policeman heard my woes
Saw my black eyes and my battered nose
"You've been held up!" said the copper fly!
"No, sir! But I've been knocked down!" said I
Then he laughed, tho' I couldn't see why!
I'll never go there any more
The Bowery! the Bowery!
They say such things and they do strange things
On the Bowery! The Bowery!
I'll never go there any more.
~ From the Broadway play "A Trip to Chinatown" (1891)
(Percy Gaunt / Charles H. Hoyt)
I'd rather take a pint with the "mods" than a cuppa with the queen, FT. Just sayin'...
As Brecht said, "What's the robbing of a bank compared to the founding of one?"
to 3 hots and a cot courtesy of the NHS. ;)
Sadly the NHS is in an existential crisis, as I experienced first-hand the last few months. Combination of Con/N.Labour austerity and poor planning for the 'blue rinse brigade' explosion.
It is currently running at 100 % capacity, instead of the designed 85 %. One big pile up on the M62 and people will be dying in the corridors...
I kid you not.
FT:
The British LOWER class, you mean.
You obviously have NO IDEA how BADLY Empire/post-Empire has treated working class people in Albion.
I never would have taken you for a LOWBROW, FJ.
I'm shocked, and terribly disillusioned . (;-o
Oh I love the Common Man well enough, but am always grateful that I am able to leave his company when I've had my fill, and retire to my cozy, elegant, well-appointed upper-class digs at night, put on a Haydn or a Mozart Symphony, sit in front of the fire at my 18th-century-style mantelpiece, and sip a quantity of Harvey's Bristol Creme from a Waterford wineglass while musing over the flickering flames.
My Dream for an Ideal Society would be that all COULD –– and would WANT to –– I've as well as I am privileged to do.
That many these days seem to PREFER coarseness, cheapness, boisterousness, untidiness, snarling scorn, and unbridled vulgarity distresses me no end.
No help for it, of course. My plan is to enjoy being who I am and having what I've worked long and hard to have as long as the Lord allows. With any luck I shall nod off one day in my favorite wing chair gazing at the fire, and never wake up again.
More power to you FT. But I've had my fill of people with a stick up their arse.
I hope you realize there's a world of difference between genuine merit, accomplishments of high quality, and pretentious snobbishness?
I've had MY fill of the current ethos that demands we pretend that coarseness, loutishness, brutishness, boorishness, bad grammar, illiteracy, increasingly grotesque forms of neo-primitivism and unmitigated commonness are the true estate of Man, and that all things elegant, refined, brilliant, gracious, complex, and full of subtlety are to be scorned and eschewed as mere affectation.
To sum it up as neatly as possible:
I fuckin' HATE Stanley Kowalski and everything he represents.
This does not mean I should be counted as a great admirer of Blanche Dubois. ;-)
And I, Thersites, have had enough of Agamemnon and Menelaus!
____ Words that inspired ____
THE STATUTES of POVERTY
Give me your sick, your poor,
unskilled, befuddled masses
yearning to get freebies.
Deposit wretched refuse
on our teeming shores.
Ramp up the crying greed
to strip us of our gold
as you pass through
our Open Door.
~ Enema Laziass
Well, gag me with a silver spoon! ;-)
I'd much prefer to see you choke on la poire d'anguoisse of Mediaeval torture fame.
];^}>.
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