Muppets of the Year?

As we amble out of November into December, it’s time to seek out the muppet of the year, and one of the leading contenders has to be Essex County Council who have banned a lollipop man from stepping out into the road to watch schoolchildren safely across.

The logic behind this farce? Ron, the lollipop man in question, may still be in the middle of the road when the lights change back to green, causing some impatient arsehole to run him over.

So how does he see the kids across the road? He doesn’t. He stands on the kerb and advises them on how to cross safely.

“Now listen to me, kiddywinks, you all know I hate you, so here’s how you cross the road. You wait until that big truck is bearing down on you and you run like hell.”

Now leaving aside my personal antipathy for anyone under 20 (not counting Victoria and Hannah) has it not occurred to the tosspots who made this idiotic decision that Ron has been standing in the middle of the road for yonks while watching the kids across? Nobody’s run him down yet.

All right, so he may not have had a set of traffic lights behind him ready to give the green light to motorists, but even so, those motorists will SEE HIM and unless they’re in a really humpty mood they’re not gonna mow him down. Even assuming one of them does go for him, you can’t legislate for nutters.

The school argue that Ron no longer has his stop sign. Why? Did they melt it down and weigh it in for the scrap iron?

One of the parents pointed out the obvious flaw in the council’s thinking. If the road is not safe for Ron to cross, why do they imagine it’s safe for the kids to do so? Would it be simpler to demolish the school and rebuild it on the other side of the road?

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. It’s time someone found these nitpicking tits some real work to do like calculating the coefficient of liner expansion of high-speed paperclips or testing the tensile strength of knicker elastic.

You can read the whole farce, here:

About Flatcap

Flatcap is in residence, tucked away in his corner of the public bar, where for the price of a brace of brown ales, he will treat you to his world-weary opinions on any and every subject you can think of and a good many you can't.
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