Alcoholic drinks will carry new health warning labels by the end of 2008 under a voluntary agreement between ministers and the drinks industry.
The labels will detail alcoholic units and recommended safe drinking levels.
Bottles and cans currently have alcohol percentages, but only some state what this equals in alcoholic units.
Public health minister Caroline Flint says exactly what the labels will say is not decided, but the warnings will not be as strong as for cigarettes.
Anyone else looking forward to "Low Sperm Count", "Alcohol Causes Cirrhosis Of The Liver" and "This Drink Is Going To Fucking Kill You" warning labels? Oh, and don't forget the "If You Take One Sip Of This Drink, You WILL Go Home And Beat Up Your Wife And Touch Up Your Kids" warnings.
Still at least it's a voluntary code, eh? Rather than this fascist government legislating on it. [Emphasis mine.]
The measure was first proposed three years ago, but both sides have struggled to agree on a format.
It is not known how many drinks firms will sign up for the scheme, but ministers said if the industry did not comply, the government would introduce legislation.
Oh, what a fucking surprise! This government does love its legislation, doesn't it? Is it because they are a bunch of fucking authoritarian cunts with absolutely no sense of proportion and only their puritanical instincts to guide them in how to make everybody's lives that little bit more miserable. Fuck, I hate them.
And, naturally, various hideous awful pressure groups—encouraging our government to curtail our freedoms whilst being funded with our money—are there on the sidelines, sticking their entirely unwanted views in our faces, like a small goblin holding a turd up to my nose.
Alcohol Concern welcomed the scheme but said it did not go far enough.
Don Shenkar, director of policy and services for the charity, said: "We'd like there to be more information in pubs and bars, in terms of the sensible drinking limits there."
Oh, you would, would you? Well, I don't. I am fed up with constant preachy bloody signs everywhere I look. Quite apart from the fact that they remind me of the bunch of arseholes that we are ruled by, they're so fucking ugly.
And how, precisely, are pubs that have a constantly rotating selection of ales supposed to cope with government-sanctioned signs? Will they receive their alcohol unit signs along with the font badge? And what if, as often happens, the badge and sign don't arrive? Will they not be allowed to serve the beer? And why doesn't everyone involved in Alcohol Concern fuck off and drown themselves in a vat of malmsey?—that'd give them something to be concerned about.
However, Annette Fleming, chief executive of Aquarius, a Midlands-based alcohol and drugs charity, questioned how effective the labelling would be.
She told BBC Radio Five Live: "It begs the question, that once people have had one drink out of a bottle, are they really going to be bothered to read the tiny print that talks about units?
"I'm not sure it will actually make a difference."
Well, quite. So what is the fucking point, eh? Labelling on cigarettes hasn't been effective: why else would the EU—which, as Croydonian found, is subsidising tobacco growers to the tune of €920 million this year—be legislating to put pictures of diseased lungs and other such monstrosities on packets of fags (I've got a cigarette case, so up yours, Brussels)?
But it is because these fuckers always need to find something to ban in order to justify their own existence. So, fox-hunting and fags are nearly conquored, so it's time to move strongly against alcohol. We can hardly pretend to be surprised; the attacks have come fast and furious over the last few years: we had surgeon John Smith trying to limit people to three drinks a night, the EU Commission report on "passive drinking", health "experts" setting ludicrous "binge-drinking" definitions, the Preston police trying to ban "vertical drinking", the bloody EU (again) trying to curb alcohol advertising, the move to ensure that all drinks in pubs are served in plastic recepticles, and Patsy cocking Hewitt begging the Chancellor for
This last was one of my more vitriolic posts and this one paragraph basically sums up my attitude towards all of these attempts to infringe on my freedom to get absolutely stoshus.
Go fuck youself, you stinking apology for a cunt of a human being; did I say human being? I meant hideous chicken-brained whore of a monkey's arse dipped in aubergine surprise—the surprise being that it is made of aubergines and shit, shit, shitty-shit-shit-shit—and mashed up with the pus-filled discharge of a diseased, eighty-year-old whore's raddled, smelly and very badly-packed kebab. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you cunting cunt cuntitty cunt cunt. Tit.
Where do we find these bloody parasitic busybodies, eh? We are crying out for more scientists, entrepreneurs, inventors, doctors, nurses, anyone competent and all we seem to end up with is these fucking killjoy scum.
No wonder the moral fibre of this once-great country seems to be going down the fucking toilet. What a bunch of cunts.