It's been a while since I posted any of my usual hilarity-filed hate blogs, or hate-filled hilarious blogs for that matter. The simple truth is that while there's been plenty of things annoying me or worthy of writing about, they're often a bit flimsy to justify a whole blog. Move forward a few days and I've got loads of the mothers, so I'll stick them in one handy bilefest.
The easiest job in the world
It has come to my attention lately that there are some lollipop ladies who ply their trade at traffic lights. How easy is that? You don't even need a lolly - you just press the button when they get there (hardly a skill) and let the kids cross. The only slight bit of expertise I can think of is being able to time it so the kids arrive at the crossing just as the lights change. That said, it's still the easiest job ever. Lazy gets.
Winehouse
She's proper blown it, or so you'd think. A couple of highly-publicised piles or arse masquerading as concerts have seen her stock sink significantly, to the extent that she's cancelled all other engagements until the new year. Thinking she'd get her comeuppance, I was staggered to see the amount of support she's been offered since she packed it in. How's that happened? Her husband's in jail - boo hoo, that's his fault, and she's hardly the only prison widow in the world is she? It seems she gets wasted on all manner of high-class narcotics, fails to handle it, packs in her job and gets support. If a footballer or a politician did that, or for that matter anybody in the music world who wasn't deemed 'cool', they would be hammered to pieces by the press. Don't even get me started on them..
Racist teddy
As if a middle-aged woman from Liverpool would know enough about Sudanese culture to know that naming a teddy 'Mohammed' would be deemed religiously libellous. Nobody is having a go at the kids for picking it, nor the parents of the kid who's name was used. It seems the Sudanese government (who are famed for their ethnic cleansing caper) are using this as a stick to beat the UK with. Of course we're concerned about her well-being, but surely they know the kind of military punch we pack, not to mention the allies we have. In a few days they'll give her back and expect praise for being so reasonable. Yeah, putting her in the slammer for naming a teddy Mo was well reasonable. And 40 lashes? Jeez Louise...
It's (not) Christmas
Is it me, or does everybody seem in a right rush to get to Christmas this year? This year more than any other I've noticed or heard of trees going up already. When I saw mince pies in late September I expected that to be the exception, but everyone seems to be setting up shop early this year. Conversely, aside from the usual Coca-Cola dross and a few Dixons ads, the media doesn't seem to have got going yet. Maybe the keenness of the masses is making them look slow. Of course the shops don't need a second invitation; I heard Christmas songs on Remembrance Sunday in Next. Says all you need to know about society don't it?
Obvious loophole?
I really can't be arsed getting into this whole 'secret payments' lark with the government. Who really cares whether someone gives brass to a mate and says "Use it how you like, but it would be ace if you gave it to the Labour Party". So what if they did? It hardly matters does it. If the bloke wanted to keep his anonymity, that's up to him. It's just giving the Tories another stick to belt Gordie B with. Anyway, my point is this; if donations of £5000 or more have to be declared, why didn't he just write loads of cheques for £4,999?
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
Monday, 19 November 2007
Stuff what's cack
Right, paying tribute to sadly passed landlords is a worthy use of this blog, but we both know that's not why I'm doing this. I'm here to teach you oiks about what's rubbish in this world. Such as:
1) Highschool Musical. The worst idea for a programme in the history of mankind. I know two men in their late 20's who absolutely love this programme, which asks more questions than it answers. Pointless drivel.
2) Personalised spare wheel covers on 4x4's which depict the owners dog. Shite.
3) Every ringtone that's ever been made. Ever. It seems every new song that comes out has a ringtone to go with it, regardless of whether it actually sounds owt like the song. My dislike of R 'n' B doesn't need further airing here, but the fact that all you see advertised on these tin-pot music channels is more guns and ho's claptrap in ringtone form just exacerbates things.
4) The British press. Especially the right-wing barely-concealed racist hate spreading ones. If they had their way we'd all be indoors cowering under the illusion that immigrants are eating our babies. The fact that a decent proportion of the population swallow this cobblers fills me with genuine fear for the future.
5) All reality TV. When that Driving School was on about 10 years ago who'd have thought that the plethora of cack that has made it onto TV would happen? It's a little-known fact that 45% of all TV programmes now have the word 'Celebrity' somewhere in their title. Possibly. Either way it's saturation on a ridiculous scale. Think up some proper ideas for programmes you gimps.
All the best. Don't forget to send your Christmas cards.
1) Highschool Musical. The worst idea for a programme in the history of mankind. I know two men in their late 20's who absolutely love this programme, which asks more questions than it answers. Pointless drivel.
2) Personalised spare wheel covers on 4x4's which depict the owners dog. Shite.
3) Every ringtone that's ever been made. Ever. It seems every new song that comes out has a ringtone to go with it, regardless of whether it actually sounds owt like the song. My dislike of R 'n' B doesn't need further airing here, but the fact that all you see advertised on these tin-pot music channels is more guns and ho's claptrap in ringtone form just exacerbates things.
4) The British press. Especially the right-wing barely-concealed racist hate spreading ones. If they had their way we'd all be indoors cowering under the illusion that immigrants are eating our babies. The fact that a decent proportion of the population swallow this cobblers fills me with genuine fear for the future.
5) All reality TV. When that Driving School was on about 10 years ago who'd have thought that the plethora of cack that has made it onto TV would happen? It's a little-known fact that 45% of all TV programmes now have the word 'Celebrity' somewhere in their title. Possibly. Either way it's saturation on a ridiculous scale. Think up some proper ideas for programmes you gimps.
All the best. Don't forget to send your Christmas cards.
Wednesday, 14 November 2007
Tribute to a legend
Today I’m going to break tradition and write a blog that every single reader (all 2 of you) will agree with from top to bottom. It won’t be controversial or aggressive or funny for the sake of it. It makes me feel dirty just writing like this.
No, today I’m paying tribute to a legend. I found out earlier this week that Mark “Larry Landlord” Heron from our local pub was killed in a motorbike crash earlier this year. Having not frequented the pub for some time the news came as a bolt from the blue. This is my small tribute to the man with the 70’s laugh.
I’m not going to pretend I was a friend or that I knew him inside out, but in the (numerous) late nights we spent at his bar we became very friendly with him and found him to be a warm, funny man. He had a laugh you could plane a doorframe with, and he never had a smile off his face. Many is the time that he would say “I’ve got a joke” and you’d have to get the calendar out to work out when you were likely to be able to return to work, such was the length and intricacy of even the simplest joke. The punchline “And two were brown” will forever be with me, but I’m buggered if I can remember any of the joke.
He and his wife Judy kept the pub as family-orientated as possible, which was quite an achievement given the amount of specialists who frequented it. We were always made to feel welcome, and despite being outsiders were never treated as such by them.
Perhaps his finest moment came when a friend of mine (you know who you are) had recently been in Scotland, and as a result had a pocketful of Jock notes. He bought a round and handed over a twenty. Larry took one look at it before ripping it up and throwing it on the floor. My mate squealed like a girl at the sight, only to be greeted by Larry’s enormous laugh seconds later as he stuck it back together and put it in the till. To this day that’s the greatest practical joke I’ve ever seen played – simple but perfectly executed.
His wake was unsurprisingly heavily attended, and I’m a little sad that I didn’t go (I obviously had no idea). I bet it was a proper shindig worthy of him. His wife and daughter have subsequently sold the pubs and moved away, and I don’t blame them. For a man as well known in the village, there must have been reminders of him everywhere.
In conclusion I can say only this: He was a Leeds fan, yet I liked him. God rest you Larry.
No, today I’m paying tribute to a legend. I found out earlier this week that Mark “Larry Landlord” Heron from our local pub was killed in a motorbike crash earlier this year. Having not frequented the pub for some time the news came as a bolt from the blue. This is my small tribute to the man with the 70’s laugh.
I’m not going to pretend I was a friend or that I knew him inside out, but in the (numerous) late nights we spent at his bar we became very friendly with him and found him to be a warm, funny man. He had a laugh you could plane a doorframe with, and he never had a smile off his face. Many is the time that he would say “I’ve got a joke” and you’d have to get the calendar out to work out when you were likely to be able to return to work, such was the length and intricacy of even the simplest joke. The punchline “And two were brown” will forever be with me, but I’m buggered if I can remember any of the joke.
He and his wife Judy kept the pub as family-orientated as possible, which was quite an achievement given the amount of specialists who frequented it. We were always made to feel welcome, and despite being outsiders were never treated as such by them.
Perhaps his finest moment came when a friend of mine (you know who you are) had recently been in Scotland, and as a result had a pocketful of Jock notes. He bought a round and handed over a twenty. Larry took one look at it before ripping it up and throwing it on the floor. My mate squealed like a girl at the sight, only to be greeted by Larry’s enormous laugh seconds later as he stuck it back together and put it in the till. To this day that’s the greatest practical joke I’ve ever seen played – simple but perfectly executed.
His wake was unsurprisingly heavily attended, and I’m a little sad that I didn’t go (I obviously had no idea). I bet it was a proper shindig worthy of him. His wife and daughter have subsequently sold the pubs and moved away, and I don’t blame them. For a man as well known in the village, there must have been reminders of him everywhere.
In conclusion I can say only this: He was a Leeds fan, yet I liked him. God rest you Larry.
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, 18 October 2007
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.
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.
Friday, 12 October 2007
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...
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...
Thursday, 11 October 2007
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!
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!
Monday, 8 October 2007
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?
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?
Saturday, 6 October 2007
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...
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...
Sunday, 30 September 2007
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.
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.
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