Shut The Front Door!!

Shutthefrontdoor was the horse I picked in a Gand National sweepstake.  It didnt win, but it was the favourite, I learned about an hour ago.  

It’s also what the legal team at Stockport Metropolitan Borough Council will say on Monday to the highly paid barrister, who failed to get my brother’s employment tribunal struck out yesterday.  

My brother is a whistleblowing ex social worker, and the lengths Stockport MBC are going to, to avoid accepting any responsibility for their failings are even more enthralling than those travelled by Wigan Council! Never thought it possible, but by the ‘eck, they could be run by the same people!

On Friday I tweeted a photo of me and our dad, and it was a bit childish, I know, but I was so pleased that the judge refused Stockport’s application to strike out my brother’s appeal, I just couldn’t resist.  This was the tweet, and I’d like to explain why the urge was so strong to say the words; the photo is irrelevant really!


About three quarters of the way through the tribunal, it became apparent that we’d completely misunderstood the reason for the council’s application to strike out the claim.  It was a terrible feeling, especially since the barrister had completely bamboozled us with legalistic jargon, read from an employment law textbook, and we requested a short adjournment to gather our thoughts.  We asked if we could stay in the room, since we needed to look at all the papers etc, but the barrister refused (he was the rudest person I’ve ever met by the way, and I think he was probably using every shred of rudeness to intimidate, as clearly his case was rubbish), so we left the room.  No more than 3 seconds later, immediately after we left the room, I realised I’d forgotten my bag, so I went straight back in and the barrister and the two Stockport MBC employees who were also at the hearing, were having a good laugh.  Not smiling, but laughing, and it was obvious the barrister hadn’t just told a really funny joke (that costs extra, but the time it took between me leaving and re-entering the room wouldn’t even have given him time for a quick knock-knocker).  I felt sick.  Sick at the thought that for some reason only known to them, they thought it was funny that a decent, down to earth, honest person was being shafted by an organisation presumed to care for people.  That surely can’t be classed as job satisfaction.  Can it??  I don’t know how much this is costing Stockport council, but they seem to be prepared to waste thousands of pounds of public money to try and beat my brother which I really can’t grasp.

Anyway, on a more mature note:


Image from:

That’s all folks!

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