Rule of the what now?

It often surprises me when I discover that someone or a group of people don't know of a certain phrase, phenomenon and just general knowledge that I believed to be public domain which everybody was aware of. I don't consider myself a close student of current affairs but I seem to always be up on the latest goings on and developments in languages and technologies (chavs, MySpace, etc) that are occurring. Others just don't seem to be as up to date.

Today, for example, I nipped through to see the receptionist about something. When I got there she was on a break so reception was being covered with a young lass of a similar age to me. We had a quick chat and as she was leaving she told me of a piece of handwritten work which was being typed up, but she was confused by it. I offered to help and she showed me a document which detailed ladder usage in the workplace (yawnsome I know, but everything stops for Health and Safety). The sentence she was struggling with went something like this:

"The general rule of thumb is to never stand on the top step of ladders or a stepladder"

Having read it, the following conversation ensued:

Me: What's the prob?
Her: Does that say 'thumb'?
Me: Yeah
Her: Why?
Me:?
Her: Why does it say 'thumb'? That doesn't make any sense.
Me: It says 'rule of thumb'. Have you never heard of it?
Her: Nope
Me: Eh?

This continued for a couple more hours as I couldn't believe she hadn't heard of the phrase 'rule of thumb'. Shortly after the receptionist returned, a middle-aged lady, and she confirmed that she'd never heard of it either. I was absolutely amazed that I had to explain what I considered to be a standard piece of spoken English to people I considered to be on the ball.

It got worse though. I returned to my office and recounted my experience to my colleagues and bugger me if they hadn't heard of it either. I couldn't believe it, to the extent that I thought only I and the writer had ever come across it. Luckily the boss had heard of it so my pending breakdown was avoided. I now plan to poll the remainder of the building to get an idea of just how out of touch they are. Oddballs.

Ironically, as a reszult of this experience, there is a rule of thumb to follow in future: Don't assume everybody has heard of it just because you have.

If I had, do you think I'd tell you?

As many of you will be aware, the UK has a number of regional dialects which vary the tone and pronunciation of words. Most of these dialects also come with their own unique phrases, handed from generation to generation with nobody any the wiser as to what the hell they mean.

For example, I'm sure you're aware of Cockney rhyming slang, where two words are coupled to rhyme with their true meaning. We're all familiar with dog and bone (stone), apples and pears (pears) and Adam and Eve (also pears).

I live in West Yorkshire, and as such am exposed to a number of clever twists of language and creative wordplay. For instance, when wishing to describe the act of surprising someone when you catch them not pulling their weight in a work setting, I'm told the correct terminology is "Catch a weasel sleeping, piss in its lug". A lovely sentiment of which Shakespeare himself would be proud.

However, far and away the most unusual and, yes, controversial of these local sayings is commonplace when wishing to enquire at the earliness of someones arrival, especially when arriving early to work. On more occasions than I can remember, I've arrived at work a mere half hour early, and been confronted by the following poetic question:

"What's up? Shit the bed?"

My traditional answer is "Indeed I have, good woman. Despite being the right side of thirty (unlike you) I somehow managed to lose control of my entire digestive system and defecate in my bed. However, rather than run the risk of cleaning it up, I put on my clothes and hot-footed it to work, safe in the knowledge I was extremely early, albeit a little grubby downstairs"

Why the fuck would being early to work mean I'd shit the bed? Aside from the obvious thought of "If I had, why the bloody hell would I tell you?", you have to wonder about how that link has developed over time so this phrase is now apt for this situation. Presumably in days of yore, a person got the mud hut early, was quizzed about his premature arrival and under pressure uttered the phrase "Er, I've shit the bed". That's my theory anyway.

When your life's on its arse

Just a quick one cos I need a shower. I nipped into Tescos on the way home to pick up some bits, and ended up in the pet food aisle to get some grub for the mogs. At the same time a middle-aged couple were doing the same.

I was minding my own business as usual but couldn't help overhear them as we both looked at the same selection. I found my usual brand, put it in my basket and was making off when they began loading shitloads of cat food into their trolley. Having put 3 or 4 cases in, the woman then picked up another and put it in with the line 'One more for luck'

My question therefore is this.

Just how shite is your life when you rely upon a case of cat food to bring you good luck? Poor buggers...

You know you make me want to exclaim

What is it with people using exclamation marks at the end of every sentence? As with most people these days, email is a major communication tool, and as such you are exposed to a myriad different writing styles. Some people see grammar and spelling as more of a suggestion; others have a casual attitude to keeping sentences under 1,000 words. Being a bit of a grammatical pedant I'm always quick to pounce on any mistakes made in emails (pathetic, I know) but the use of exclamation marks at the end of sentences or to imply some kind of unwarranted emotion within the sentence gets completely and utterly on my tits.

http://www.dictionary.com/ defines an exclamation mark as "The sign used in writing after an exclamation" or "sometimes used in writing two or more times in succession to indicate intensity of emotion, loudness, etc.: Long live the Queen!!". Nowhere in this description is it mentioned that it can be used to end a standard sentence. Luckily, language experts have noticed this trend and have recently come up with a new punctuation mark to deal with the lack of sentence ending ability. They've called it a full stop. Maybe it'll catch on.

Now, I don't expect everybody to understand every nuance of grammar. I consider myself a student of the art of correct writing but I know a tiny amount of what is out there. However, I can't understand why anyone would have the impression that an exclamation mark is a suitable sentence ender. You can imagine some of the potential pitfalls in the workplace if you're not sure of its proper use:

- Smith, Albert. Died peacefully after a long battle against cancer! Rest in peace, Granddad!
- Police describe the murderer as white, six feet tall with a shaved head! The public are warned not to approach him as he is extremely dangerous!
- Breaking news - thousands of people have been killed after an airliner slammed into the World Trade Centre!

See? It doesn't exactly convey a professional tone does it? Of course, there are exceptions:

- Leeds United docked fifteen points for financial irregularities!

In conclusion, try and be a bit more creative with your language. If you must insist on being a Grade-A thickie and using exclamation marks at the end of every sentence, at least make each line funny to justify it. Have a nice day!

My biggest fear

Everyone's got fears. Some are justified; terrorism, flying, Dale Winton. Others are less so; thunderstorms, rats, ITV, etc. However, out of all the many fears we suffer from, there is always one which ranks above all others in terms of the terror it generates in its sufferer.

Often, these fears can also be quite embarrassing. Maybe you're a juggler who's scared of clowns, an airline pilot scared of not being pissed, that sort of thing. I'm ashamed to admit that I do have a fear which is both crippling and ridiculous.

I'm scared of accidentally calling my boss 'Dad'.

Can you imagine the shame? The stupidity? The potential end of career? I don't know why but whenever I visit the MD of my company I always have the compelling thought that I mustn't call him 'Dad'. I've got absolutely no idea why I would, but I guess it's just that school-level embarrassment when you accidentally call the teacher 'Mum' or 'Dad'. At that age you can't live it down, so what chance have you got as an adult, when the environment in which you exist is that much more immature? I literally have to consciously think 'Now, whatever you do...' every time I see him, which is ridiculous, quite frankly. God alone knows what a shrink would make of it, but I'm not about to fork out thirty notes an hour to find out. I'll just live with it.

What's your biggest fear, dear reader?

Oo-er - A serious one

I make no secret of the fact that I have an unusual train of thought. Simple events often lead me on a cognitive merry-go-round which ends up in unorthodox, often dark places. The simple act of a colleague leaving work early to go to prayers led me to the possibility of raising the dead and its implications on Human Resources policy. As you would expect.

As I said, a Muslim colleague goes to prayers a couple of times a day. Work are completely happy with this situation, when he nips out for twenty minutes to the local mosque and gets his prayer on. However, as I said, I often go off on one thoughts-wise, and this is what I came up with:

- Guy goes to prayer
- Work lets him because of his religious beliefs
- What if a recently dead person is brought back to life by means of a revolutionary new medical procedure and he announces there is no afterlife?
- Throws all religion into doubt
- Companies use this new finding to ban all religious leniency during work hours
- The shit hits the fan

Odd, yes? Basically, my thoughts turns towards the ability to bring someone back from the dead weeks after they died and they're like "Bloody hell - I thought I'd go to < arbitrary posthumous destination > but I didn't. Turns out religion is just a load of old hooey". Makes you think, doesn't it? What if science could dispel the existence of religion - the place would be in uproar.

I mentioned this to the Mrs (my regular pre-blog sounding board/moral filter) and she said that the religious types would just argue that God/Allah/Whoever meant for this person to be brought back to life, thus negating the scientific argument, and it's an intriguing thought. Basically, no matter what science can or can't prove in the future, God-squadders could just say "Yeah - God did that. Mysterious ways, etc".

I'm not sure I'm going to be able to settle this argument in one blog, but I hope I've made you think about religion and science and all that caper. Beats another anti-Katona rant I suppose...

There's an easy solution to your problem, mate

When you're out, in a busy pub, or anywhere where it's quiet enough to hear other people's conversations as they pass, you're gonna hear the odd gem that deserves a wider airing.

Such an incident occurred last night.

I was waiting for a mate to return with drinks as a group of 3-4 lads wandered past, heavily in conversation. I wasn't eavesdropping but as they passed it was impossible not to hear them. In the few steps before they went past I picked up they were talking about chocolate bars from the past, and one of the protagonists issued this little comment:

"Yeah, my favourite used to be Marathon. I loved them"

Now, he didn't actually say "It's a shame they no longer exist" but his tone and general delivery heavily suggested that he rues the fact that he can longer get hold of a Marathon bar.

Is it just me who wanted to shout "Well buy a bloody Snickers then"? Chances are that seconds later he went on to discuss Snickers but that's the danger of talking as you pass people - the chance that they'll pick up on a small section of your debate, take it massively out of context and splash it all over the Internet for their own comedic ends. That's why I always stall when I'm passing strangers so they don't hear me say something libel and I end up in the big house. Possibly with Jim MacDonald. Stranger things have happened.

If that's her, then I'm a monkey's uncle

Come on, 'fess up. How many of you actually thought that the girl who looked nowt like Madeleine McCann would actually turn out to be her? You might as well have sent a picture of Kris Akabusi to the cops and said "Is this her?"

Aside from the obvious question "why the pissing hell were you taking snaps of the locals?" you just know once the Spanish bird got them developed she was like "Hold on el momento, that looks slightly less than 5% like old McCanno - I reckon we could flog this to the press for a shitload of liras". They saw the fleeting chance of stardom and took it, the sick bastardos. Who knows, they might have even thought it was her and took the picture, but I'll bet you a sizable some that they were humming the Spanish equivalent of "I'm in the money" when they took it.

Is this how desperate this search has become? Another blond child (albeit a year or so older than Maddy) is spotted in Morocco so it's all over the papers for 24 hours? Jesus Harold Christ if that isn't a straw-clutching fest. I do genuinely feel sorry for the little mite but these sort of cry wolf efforts are going to turn the public cynical double quick. Hands up who thinks the press only published it to flog papers?

Anyway, I for one hope she is found, and maybe she'll be able to tell us what happened (best news conference ever, I'm sure you'll agree) but in all truth this will turn out to be another Ben Needham case, and we might as well pack up and concentrate on something we've got more chance of achieving, like winning in Iraq or summat. Sad but true.

A lifetime's silence, please

I was sad to hear of the death of Marcel Marseau today, the French mime artist who managed to make a career out of the most pointless branch of art this side of juggling. Fair play to the lad, he became world famous for it (beating off competition from the thousands of other mime artists around the world that we know and love) and somehow managed to keep paying the bills using the same old act for the hundred odd years he was doing it. Hat doffage there.

Of course, me being me, I can't get the thought of his funeral out of my head. Aside from it being a quiet affair (arf), I'm can imagine it's going to be held in a massive glass box which you must feel your way around to locate your seat. Apparently there is a ladder leading to the door, although it's quite breezy outside so you may have to lean into the wind to make any headway. Anybody who brings a briefcase which gets stuck in midair is to leave it by the door, and there will be a slap-up banquet of bananas at the wake. Sounds like a hoot.

Where there's blame, there's a &%#£~*

I made the very grave error of listening to a phone-in radio show on the way to work today - huge mistake. I make it my business to stay away from this sort of caper usually, but I was trying to get updates on the cricket (fat lot of good that was) so I had to persevere with this idiotfest.

Now, I expect this programme to be littered with the unemployed and slightly racist retired of this great nation at this time, so I wasn't surprised that there was a recovering alcoholic and a heavily opinionated man on the show. What did strike me though was the unbelievable level of blame that they place on other people for their or their familes' shortcomings.

The alky was on a feature about supermarkets flogging ale on the cheap which is leading to an increase in alcohol consumption (I'll digress slightly to say that it didn't say increased alcoholism; just an increased intake. Not exactly the end of the world). Anyway, this chap said that he drank more because it was cheaper to get hold of. Now, if that's not blaming others for your problems then I don't know what it. He was asked if the prices were greater, would that have stopped him drinking as much, and he had the brass neck to say it would. What sort of pisshead is he? The sort that drinks to a budget. Spend any time talking or reading about this 'disease' and you'll quickly learn that a little drawback such as not having enough money is far from a prevention. They'll just nick it, or nick money off loved ones to get it. So straight away he's talking cobblers.

I just couldn't believe he was laying the blame for his weakness at the door of the supermarket, who flog millions of pounds worth of ale to the likes of us normal folk who don't drink as a hobby. It's pathetic, spineless and self-deluded and in my opinion the host didn't take him in hand on this one and point out the flaw in his argument.

Anyway, that finished, I calmed down and we went onto the next feature. Apparently, there had been some cops on the show earlier talking about how difficult their job was what with all of the paperwork and such which prevented real crime fighting. Enter nemesis number 2.

This old guy came on and told a monumentally boring story about how his daughter had gone to his house when he wasn't in, and ended up being trapped on the balcony by a spider (must've been a big 'un). He justified this lameness with the 'fact' that she was an arachnaphobe of the highest order, so she immediately phoned her dad, brother and friend to get them over to kill it. The obviously didn't think she was that scared of them because they all said no, but her friend suggested she call the Feds as 'they deal with this kind of thing'. You can see where we're going with this...

So she rings them and tells them what's occurring, but it should be noted that he didn't say she'd mentioned the spider to them (he said "she's articulate so she must have done") and an hour later, 8 cops in a black Maria turned up asking about the incident she'd reported.

This time the host got it right, and asked how this was the cops' fault when an incident (note - no spider mentioned) was reported, and he went on to say that because she's such a big old arachnaphobe, they should be expected to attend such distressing ordeals. So, not only did he seriously think that the cops should race to the scene of a spider, but he then went on to bemoan the attendance of so many. In all likelihood they were returning from another call and popped in, but he happily sidestepped that to make this ridiculous point. He was blaming the coppers for sending too many people, cleverly avoiding the fact his daughter is a grade-A cretin for calling them.

Unfortunately I missed the rest of the interview because I turned the radio off and said a swear word, but I'd heard enough. It's about bloody time these sort of people were rounded up and were taught how to take responsibility for their own actions/drinking/cretinous children, instead of blaming all and sundry for their terrible lot in life. They're a disgrace and no error.