The beer you understand, not the politicians. Herman Van Rumpuy has today been elected as the President of the EU. As the Prime Minister of a fractured Belgium I think he can be accurately described as a consensus builder and his appointment represents the EU entering a period of consolidation. All of this is of course secondary to a boozy dinner I had with my father.
During the course of this meal my father revealed the real reason why he is so desperate to have my grandmother ruled mentally incapable on grounds of dementia. He is currently trying to have a lasting power of attorney taken out on her behalf. This power, granted under the Mental Capacity Act 2005, would give him full control over her bank accounts and any property she owns including her house. Obviously this has been going on for a number of months but as this is the first time he has formally mentioned it to me it is also the first time that I can talk about it. Being the snidey little gobshite of a cunt he is he has organised for the solicitor to come round and have this document signed on the same day that he has arranged for my grandmother be to be assessed by the Croydon Memory Service (24/11). This means that I will be having a slightly stressful day instantly swapping by healthcare professional hat for my lawyer hat however my father is so worried about it that he's having a little bit of a tantrum.
Aside from that I can think of nothing else to say other then to inform you that Metropolitan Police Officers attached to the Croydon Borough are identified by the call sign Zulu Delta. This means that everytime they appear at my front gate I feel obligated to get my Micheal Caine on and sing Land of my Fathers.
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