The cliché is true, I guess. The older I get, the grumpier I get. So many little things that people do have, in recent years, began to needle away at me. And that's exactly what they are - little things - but I just can't help it. Oh, how I long for the days of the carefree and innocent Ewar! Alas, it is not to be - I'm too old, too cynical. So as I've got nothing else to blog about, here's a list of things - little things, of course - that are seriously irritating.
Once you've read my list, feel free to vent your spleen in the comments box below. Remember I get to choose which comments get published, mind, so any 'hilarious' "This blog irritates me lol" stuff will be swiftly discarded. You don't go attacking my baby! Talking of which...
BABY IN THE OFFICE - I worked for over two years in an office where I was the only man, a lonely child surrounded by (perfectly nice) middle aged women. As we employed about fifty people - the vast majority of which were also female - who traipsed their way into the office most days, I soon realised that the dreaded "Baby in the office" situation was always round the corner. Cooing, gurgling, farting, screaming, crying - and that was just me. Is there anything more annoying than having a stranger's baby waved in your face?
Maybe it's because I'm a man, so I'm not maternal and all of that guff, but it drove me insane. The mere thought of it happening in the future makes me reach for my stress ball. You can breed, well done, but I've got some timesheets to check so kindly sod off.
"SUBTLE" ADVERTISING - This is one where it's easier to show you, rather than tell you:
The song is passable, but it's the video which irritates me greatly - namely the bit between 1:20 and 1:30. Is there any need for such shameless advertising in a music video? No sir there is not!
THE APPRENTICE - Right now really isn't the time to teach young twattish upstarts that the way to succeed in business is to be jumped up selfish twerps obsessed with greed and deceit who will be quick to point the blame at anyone or anything as soon as things go "wrong". One massive wet dream for right-wingers presided over by a hairy cornflake who's technology is, as they say in the trade, "fucking shit".
THE YOUNG APPRENTICE - No. Just, no.
TARDINESS IN SHOPS - This is usually a female thing I'm afraid. You've gone into a shop and you've selected the goods you desire to purchase. You walk to the check-out where you join a queue. You queue for 3 minutes, and then when you get to the front of the queue...you start digging around in your handbag for your purse. WOMEN! Come on, you are better than this! If you are going to do this, perhaps try doing it when I'm not standing one place behind you in the line? Thanks.
BAD MANNERS - When I'm Supreme Leader - and I will be - anyone who is found spitting will be the first to be taken into camps. The same if you litter, if you eat with your mouth open, if you talk with your mouth full, if you have a loud conversation on your phone when sitting in a train carriage.
PEOPLE TRYING TO SELL ME THINGS - I know you're doing your job, and that's good, but if I've said "no" I mean it. Don't persist.
Ewar's handy tip! I've found lately that saying "I already have it" works really well with these guys. e.g. Man with tie: "Five minutes to talk to you about the new Sky+ HD service sir?" Me: "I already have it!" (continue walking)
PETROL STATION ETIQUETTE - Filled up your car? Good for you. Paid for the petrol? Good for you. Now, please, leave. Get out. Don't arse about with your glove compartment. Don't put your seatbelt on until you've reached a safe place on the foyer away from me. Consideration, people.
HAVING NOTHING TO BLOG ABOUT - As I've found these past few weeks. Irritating.
THE NATIONAL OBSESSION WITH PIPPA MIDDLETON - She is related to someone. She has a bottom. Good for her.
SALLY MORGAN - "Psychic"? I can think of other words, none of which I can type here as she seems the sort who'd like a good court case.
ITVs FOOTBALL COVERAGE - Clive Tyldesley, Gordon Strachan, Jim Beglin, Roy Keane. Can you imagine a bigger bunch of pricks? And that's not even taking into consideration the worst human being on the planet, my mortal enemy, Mr Peter "A GOAL FOR ALL OF AFRICA!" Drury. Monumental bell-end.
PEOPLE WHO DON'T WALK - Painfully common at university. What's that? You'd rather take the lift than walk one flight of stairs? Really?
DRAW/DRAWER - Please stop putting things in a "draw".
BOOTS ADVERTS - Perhaps we can have a Christmas without having to hear "Here Come the Girls" seventeen times a day every day?
QUESTION TIME'S OBSESSION WITH BARONESS WARSI - Awful, awful woman.
GOLF CLUB SNOBS - Goddamn phonies with their club jumpers and ties, shouting off about women in the clubhouse whilst reading The Daily Mail and leering at the barmaid. These people are invariably shit at the game despite professing to play twice a week every week.
(I should stop but I'm too angry to do so, so here's a few more)
PEOPLE WHO LEAVE THEIR BAGS ON THE SEAT NEXT TO THEM ON THE TRAIN - Scum. Sub-human scum.
ACCUMULATORS THAT FALL AT THE FIRST HURDLE - Dear betting gods. I know I'm not going to win. Just at least let me enjoy the tension of it going down to the final game or two? This is magnified a million times when it's the early 12:45 kick-off on a Saturday that screws it up.
PEOPLE WHO WRITE SHIT POETRY - Bet it doesn't even rhyme.
ALANIS MORISSETTE NOT UNDERSTANDING IRONY
HAVING TO GOOGLE THE CORRECT SPELLING OF ALANIS MORISSETTE'S SURNAME
WALKING TO THE TRAIN STATION ON A WET, COLD, DAMP AND DEPRESSING OCTOBER DAY - The worst on the list, by a mile.
Well, that was cathartic. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to walk to the train station on a wet, cold...
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Tuesday, 4 October 2011
Meredith
Morning. I'm filled up with Manflu today, so my writing won't be as sharp and spectacular as it usually is(?) so I apologise greatly for that.
Today's news is dominated by Amanda Knox and her former partner, Raffaele Sollecito, who have been released from prison and acquitted over the murder of student Meredith Kercher. As far as criminal cases go, this one is an absolute cracker. No matter how much I read about that night, I'm still completely undecided as to what actually happened. We're pretty certain that Rudy Guede murdered and sexually assaulted Meredith, but did he act alone? Were Knox and Sollecito involved, somehow? I get the feeling we'll never know, which drives me mad with frustration, but such is life.
Whether Knox/Sollecito are guilty or not guilty however, what has horrified me during this case is the realisation that if they ever got out - and of course we now know that they have - they would become celebrities. Famous. As I've mentioned before, I really loathe the word "famous", and Amanda Knox provides a decent example of why. Perhaps they deserve their freedom, but the thought of them raking in the dollars and living the high life greatly depresses me, even if they are innocent. Of course, Knox's rise to fame has been, and will be, aided and abetted by the media. I note with an awful lot of regret that Meredith Kercher's body wasn't even cold by the time the phrase "Foxy Knoxy" had entered our lexicon.
So we'll have the "EXCLUSIVE!" first interview - probably with that morally bankrupt slimeball Piers Moron - and then she'll release her book, which will naturally be a best-seller. A few more TV appearances, then once those cheques have been cashed it'll be some form of photo-shoot, possibly involving the nice people at Playboy Mansion. After that, the reality TV appearances must surely follow. I reckon she'd be a hit on 'Dancing With The Stars'! Cynical? Maybe I am, but I'd be surprised if Amanda Knox ended up working at her local Starbucks, or indeed anywhere else. I hope she proves me wrong.
Let me make it clear - I'm not blaming Knox for that, per se. If I was innocent - and for all we know she might be - I'd go along with it as well, because the temptation to set myself up for life would be too hard to turn down. Instead I blame the "celebrity culture" we've been dragged into, a world where someone accused of murder can write a best-selling book which says "I didn't do it" for 300 pages, a world where Katie Price is a multi-millionaire, a world where the likes of Chantelle Houghton are famous. Nothing would make me happier than shite like "Heat" magazine or "OK!" going out of business because people stopped caring that Cameron Diaz has a spot on her chin, Cheryl Cole is getting married and Ryan Giggs is having sex with a Russian waitress called Olga. Deep down though, we all know that's not going to happen any time soon, and that's a shame. In the case of Knox, it's the sheer shamelessness of it all that bugs me. She's a good looking white girl, but that shouldn't excuse the media frenzy that spins and whirls its way around her wherever she now goes. If she is innocent, she deserves her freedom and allowed to return back home to the US. But what if she isn't? And there's still very strong doubts about her actions that night. One to remember when you're queuing to buy her book.
Ranting about the media aside, there's a bigger issue here and one that saddens me. For all the talk of "Foxy Knoxy" et al, Meredith Kercher has been left behind, a bloodied corpse resigned to being an afterthought when Knox is on TV, sobbing over the hardship of an unjust jail sentence. Whether Amanda Knox has - literally - gotten away with murder, or whether she's as innocent as you or I am over this one, let us not forget the true victim of this horrific crime. We may not know who did it, or why, but we know what the result was. RIP Meredith. I hope and pray that you are never forgotten.
Today's news is dominated by Amanda Knox and her former partner, Raffaele Sollecito, who have been released from prison and acquitted over the murder of student Meredith Kercher. As far as criminal cases go, this one is an absolute cracker. No matter how much I read about that night, I'm still completely undecided as to what actually happened. We're pretty certain that Rudy Guede murdered and sexually assaulted Meredith, but did he act alone? Were Knox and Sollecito involved, somehow? I get the feeling we'll never know, which drives me mad with frustration, but such is life.
Whether Knox/Sollecito are guilty or not guilty however, what has horrified me during this case is the realisation that if they ever got out - and of course we now know that they have - they would become celebrities. Famous. As I've mentioned before, I really loathe the word "famous", and Amanda Knox provides a decent example of why. Perhaps they deserve their freedom, but the thought of them raking in the dollars and living the high life greatly depresses me, even if they are innocent. Of course, Knox's rise to fame has been, and will be, aided and abetted by the media. I note with an awful lot of regret that Meredith Kercher's body wasn't even cold by the time the phrase "Foxy Knoxy" had entered our lexicon.
So we'll have the "EXCLUSIVE!" first interview - probably with that morally bankrupt slimeball Piers Moron - and then she'll release her book, which will naturally be a best-seller. A few more TV appearances, then once those cheques have been cashed it'll be some form of photo-shoot, possibly involving the nice people at Playboy Mansion. After that, the reality TV appearances must surely follow. I reckon she'd be a hit on 'Dancing With The Stars'! Cynical? Maybe I am, but I'd be surprised if Amanda Knox ended up working at her local Starbucks, or indeed anywhere else. I hope she proves me wrong.
Let me make it clear - I'm not blaming Knox for that, per se. If I was innocent - and for all we know she might be - I'd go along with it as well, because the temptation to set myself up for life would be too hard to turn down. Instead I blame the "celebrity culture" we've been dragged into, a world where someone accused of murder can write a best-selling book which says "I didn't do it" for 300 pages, a world where Katie Price is a multi-millionaire, a world where the likes of Chantelle Houghton are famous. Nothing would make me happier than shite like "Heat" magazine or "OK!" going out of business because people stopped caring that Cameron Diaz has a spot on her chin, Cheryl Cole is getting married and Ryan Giggs is having sex with a Russian waitress called Olga. Deep down though, we all know that's not going to happen any time soon, and that's a shame. In the case of Knox, it's the sheer shamelessness of it all that bugs me. She's a good looking white girl, but that shouldn't excuse the media frenzy that spins and whirls its way around her wherever she now goes. If she is innocent, she deserves her freedom and allowed to return back home to the US. But what if she isn't? And there's still very strong doubts about her actions that night. One to remember when you're queuing to buy her book.
Ranting about the media aside, there's a bigger issue here and one that saddens me. For all the talk of "Foxy Knoxy" et al, Meredith Kercher has been left behind, a bloodied corpse resigned to being an afterthought when Knox is on TV, sobbing over the hardship of an unjust jail sentence. Whether Amanda Knox has - literally - gotten away with murder, or whether she's as innocent as you or I am over this one, let us not forget the true victim of this horrific crime. We may not know who did it, or why, but we know what the result was. RIP Meredith. I hope and pray that you are never forgotten.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Gallimaufry
Well, isn't this exciting? I haven't done one of these for a while...as the actress said to the bishop! Ooh pardon!
Ahem. Yes, gallimaufry time now, where I round up a few things I need to tell you and shepherd them all into one nice blog post so that we all know where we stand. Let us begin...
1) Are you interested in basketball? Probably not, but if you are, or perhaps you WANT to take an interest in the sport (particularly in terms of the European game) I recommend http://mp06.wordpress.com/ which is a well-written and informative site created by a Twitter friend. My only criticism of the site would be that it needs more pro-Kobe Bryant pieces, but you can't have everything. Please do check it out.
2) I have started to write film reviews for a website. This is hilarious, seeing as I hate every film ever made, but after sending one off they asked me to write some more so what the hell. It's something to put on the writing CV and it gets me writing so I'm happy enough. The site is http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/ and the three pieces I have done so far will just be underneath this paragraph. If you decide to have a look, it takes about 0.5 seconds to click on the appropriate star and rate the film out of 5 (note - you rate the film, not my review, thankfully). I'd really appreciate it if you did that. Even though it doesn't change anything at my end, loads of votes makes me look good, and we all want that.
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/zombieland/
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/road-to-perdition/
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/raging-bull/
3) Look away now, Cynical Ben! Yes, it's a quick note about one of my favourite TV programmes - Come Dine With Me - which this past week focused on The Dark Place itself, Wolverhampton. One of the five contestants was Student Union legend Bally Singh, who claimed a well-deserved third place despite making beans on toast as his starter. The five episodes will be on 4OD and your catch-up boxes for a limited time if you wish to have a gander.
4) My "other" blog, Patrick's Myopic Musings, will not be long for the blogging world. I have set in motion its demise.
This is not because I am bored with it, or a lack of stuff to put on it, or that nobody was looking at it. The truth is, I've been thinking for a while now about creating my own personal website which would house my writings (fiction and non fiction) and various other stuff. I would really like to split up my internet use into two clear camps - professional and real life, and then silly anonymous-ish stuff like this blog or Twitter. Which is why linking you to movie reviews containing my real name from this blog immediately contravenes that idea, but I've always been a fucking idiot.
Regardless. If I create a website and put up my writing/bits and bobs on there, the fiction writing blog becomes irrelevant and redundant, sadly, so it is going. I really liked putting up other people's writing on there though, so I'll probably still carry on doing that on t'other place.
5) On the subject of writing, there's a short story competition running over at http://www.ruberybookaward.com/ which is being judged by the incomparable Paul McDonald. I'm currently writing an entry, which certainly won't win, but I'm aiming for 3rd place. Deadline is on the 30th, so if you want to enter, hurry up, yeah?
6) I'd like to take a moment to congratulate all the people reading this who have just graduated from The Dark Place University, an august institution if ever I encountered one. Life is tough for graduates right now, but good people will always muddle their way through. To all of you I simply say "Hat!" and wish you well for the future.
Until next time kids!
Ahem. Yes, gallimaufry time now, where I round up a few things I need to tell you and shepherd them all into one nice blog post so that we all know where we stand. Let us begin...
1) Are you interested in basketball? Probably not, but if you are, or perhaps you WANT to take an interest in the sport (particularly in terms of the European game) I recommend http://mp06.wordpress.com/ which is a well-written and informative site created by a Twitter friend. My only criticism of the site would be that it needs more pro-Kobe Bryant pieces, but you can't have everything. Please do check it out.
2) I have started to write film reviews for a website. This is hilarious, seeing as I hate every film ever made, but after sending one off they asked me to write some more so what the hell. It's something to put on the writing CV and it gets me writing so I'm happy enough. The site is http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/ and the three pieces I have done so far will just be underneath this paragraph. If you decide to have a look, it takes about 0.5 seconds to click on the appropriate star and rate the film out of 5 (note - you rate the film, not my review, thankfully). I'd really appreciate it if you did that. Even though it doesn't change anything at my end, loads of votes makes me look good, and we all want that.
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/zombieland/
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/road-to-perdition/
http://moviemarker.co.uk/wp/index.php/raging-bull/
3) Look away now, Cynical Ben! Yes, it's a quick note about one of my favourite TV programmes - Come Dine With Me - which this past week focused on The Dark Place itself, Wolverhampton. One of the five contestants was Student Union legend Bally Singh, who claimed a well-deserved third place despite making beans on toast as his starter. The five episodes will be on 4OD and your catch-up boxes for a limited time if you wish to have a gander.
4) My "other" blog, Patrick's Myopic Musings, will not be long for the blogging world. I have set in motion its demise.
This is not because I am bored with it, or a lack of stuff to put on it, or that nobody was looking at it. The truth is, I've been thinking for a while now about creating my own personal website which would house my writings (fiction and non fiction) and various other stuff. I would really like to split up my internet use into two clear camps - professional and real life, and then silly anonymous-ish stuff like this blog or Twitter. Which is why linking you to movie reviews containing my real name from this blog immediately contravenes that idea, but I've always been a fucking idiot.
Regardless. If I create a website and put up my writing/bits and bobs on there, the fiction writing blog becomes irrelevant and redundant, sadly, so it is going. I really liked putting up other people's writing on there though, so I'll probably still carry on doing that on t'other place.
5) On the subject of writing, there's a short story competition running over at http://www.ruberybookaward.com/ which is being judged by the incomparable Paul McDonald. I'm currently writing an entry, which certainly won't win, but I'm aiming for 3rd place. Deadline is on the 30th, so if you want to enter, hurry up, yeah?
6) I'd like to take a moment to congratulate all the people reading this who have just graduated from The Dark Place University, an august institution if ever I encountered one. Life is tough for graduates right now, but good people will always muddle their way through. To all of you I simply say "Hat!" and wish you well for the future.
Until next time kids!
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Letters Move On
Enough claptrap about my life in the "real world". Let's go back to what the people want! Crazy letters!
=============================================================
I would like to join the rest of the population in expressing my disgust at teachers striking.
This letter is from July 12th, so apologies for glancing back to past events, but it's so distasteful, arrogant and wrong-headed that I can't bring myself to ignore it and bin it.
Anyway, yes. The WHOLE population was against the teachers who went on strike. Nice to see they concluded that without asking me for my opinion on the matter, but hey ho.
Teachers obviously think that they should be immune from the situation that a government they supported brought the nation to.
If you can't be bothered to read this letter, here it is so far, summarised for you:
1) Everyone in the country opposed the teachers strikes (including the teachers themselves!)
2) Every teacher in the country supports the same political party.
They obviously feel the children are a useful tool to blackmail parents into supporting their demands that the rest of the nation should fund their
"Gold-plated"?
overly generous
Rotter.
pensions. I resent the fact that I work seven days a week to pay for their pensions while being unable to afford a pension of any kind myself due to high taxes.
I want to interrupt this letter for a moment, if I may. Because if there's one thing that pisses me off, it's Piers Morgan. No, wait, aside from him - it's people thinking that teachers somehow have it easy. We've just had the summer holidays, and my seven year old brother got to stay at home for six weeks. By day three, I was just about ready to strangle him. The thought of having to put up with him, as well as about 25 others, 9-3 every weekday, without resorting to frying pans around the head, is absolutely mental. No way could I do it.
Secondary school kids aren't any better, when you take into account their rowdiness, their sullenness and their chewing gum which always gets stuck on the underside of a table. Of course, it's not just 9-3 either. There's homework to set/mark, parent evenings, staying behind to supervise a child in detention, even coping with the politics of the staff room. They do all of this whilst under huge pressure to get kids through their exams and set them on the right path, an Ofsted inspection always just days away. Be a teacher? Not on your nelly would I.
They deserve their holidays. They deserve their pensions. They deserve praise. They deserve respect.
Which is why this letter is fucking me off quite a considerable amount. But let us indulge it for a few moments longer...
Teachers and all other so-called public servants
3) Teachers do not serve the public.
need to join the real world. If you want a generous pension then purchase one and pay for it like the rest of us. You can strike until the cows come home as far as I am concerned and I hope the Government stands firm because if it does not then they will suffer at the ballot box.
Mike Montane
Wellington
You've made it onto my list. Well done.
============================================================
Close down Wootton Bassett, it has become too English and traditional - can't have anything English and traditional can we?
If you read my blog often, you'll know who this letter writer is. If you don't, the unsurprising answer will be at the bottom.
By the way, I really like the idea of something being "too English".
"Breaking news coming into us here on Sky Sports News....the FA have released a statement saying that the contract of England U-21 manager Stuart Pearce has been terminated. "The FA would like to thank Stuart for all of his hard work", they say in this statement, "but it became clear that Stuart's services were no longer suitable after he became just too English".
Is CamEUron scared
I give up. I literally do. This is just...I genuinely don't know what to say.
of letting the world see the dead bodies of our troops that leave blood on his and Clegg's hands? Try and hide it away in Worcestershire or anywhere
"Worcestershire or anywhere" is an amazing, amazing bit of writing.
and hope there is no place anyone can come and pay respects.
It's only just re-reading this letter now that I see Val - yes, it's Val Duncan, who else - says "close down Wooton Bassett". Val Duncan thinks a town has been closed down. I'd cry if I didn't laugh.
Send the dead down motorways or back roads then the world won't see our grief? Destroy our military and force us into the EU Military Force? This 'fake' Prime Minister
David Cameron is a fake. The real Prime Minister is locked in a cupboard somewhere. It's in such a secretive location that not even Gideon Osbourne knows where it is. But he knows WHO it is, and isn't it interesting how you don't hear much from Michael Heseltine any more, eh?
is adding grievances to a list of things the people (remember us?) are keeping count of and one day Major (Maastricht Treaty), Blair and Brown (Lisbon Treaty) and Cameron and Clegg (Destroyers of our defences) will all stand in court to answer for their treason. The list grows longer and longer and the people (remember us?)
You've done that one.
are feeling more and more angry with the social engineering of our population, the wrecking of our economy and the insidious intrusion of the EU. Something will give and woe betide Westminster and those politicians and civil servants who are complicit in the destruction of our country. We will have revenge without mercy unless we are taken out of the insidious
You've done that one.
EU and given our own laws and liberties again.
This is vintage Val Duncan. Take it in, and enjoy. You'll miss this when she's gone.
We are a peaceful and just people, but we will not be sold to a foreign dictatorship while this Prime Minister pontificates over democracy for the likes of Libya and kills our own country for his own political ends and gold-plated pension
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! *punches the air*
via a wasteful and corrupt union.
Val Duncan
Wellington
Is there any way we can start an on-line campaign to make someone be considered as an MEP? Because I can't help thinking that Val would make an excellent candidate for that role.
Valerie Duncan MEP. You heard it here first, kids!
=============================================================
I would like to join the rest of the population in expressing my disgust at teachers striking.
This letter is from July 12th, so apologies for glancing back to past events, but it's so distasteful, arrogant and wrong-headed that I can't bring myself to ignore it and bin it.
Anyway, yes. The WHOLE population was against the teachers who went on strike. Nice to see they concluded that without asking me for my opinion on the matter, but hey ho.
Teachers obviously think that they should be immune from the situation that a government they supported brought the nation to.
If you can't be bothered to read this letter, here it is so far, summarised for you:
1) Everyone in the country opposed the teachers strikes (including the teachers themselves!)
2) Every teacher in the country supports the same political party.
They obviously feel the children are a useful tool to blackmail parents into supporting their demands that the rest of the nation should fund their
"Gold-plated"?
overly generous
Rotter.
pensions. I resent the fact that I work seven days a week to pay for their pensions while being unable to afford a pension of any kind myself due to high taxes.
I want to interrupt this letter for a moment, if I may. Because if there's one thing that pisses me off, it's Piers Morgan. No, wait, aside from him - it's people thinking that teachers somehow have it easy. We've just had the summer holidays, and my seven year old brother got to stay at home for six weeks. By day three, I was just about ready to strangle him. The thought of having to put up with him, as well as about 25 others, 9-3 every weekday, without resorting to frying pans around the head, is absolutely mental. No way could I do it.
Secondary school kids aren't any better, when you take into account their rowdiness, their sullenness and their chewing gum which always gets stuck on the underside of a table. Of course, it's not just 9-3 either. There's homework to set/mark, parent evenings, staying behind to supervise a child in detention, even coping with the politics of the staff room. They do all of this whilst under huge pressure to get kids through their exams and set them on the right path, an Ofsted inspection always just days away. Be a teacher? Not on your nelly would I.
They deserve their holidays. They deserve their pensions. They deserve praise. They deserve respect.
Which is why this letter is fucking me off quite a considerable amount. But let us indulge it for a few moments longer...
Teachers and all other so-called public servants
3) Teachers do not serve the public.
need to join the real world. If you want a generous pension then purchase one and pay for it like the rest of us. You can strike until the cows come home as far as I am concerned and I hope the Government stands firm because if it does not then they will suffer at the ballot box.
Mike Montane
Wellington
You've made it onto my list. Well done.
============================================================
Close down Wootton Bassett, it has become too English and traditional - can't have anything English and traditional can we?
If you read my blog often, you'll know who this letter writer is. If you don't, the unsurprising answer will be at the bottom.
By the way, I really like the idea of something being "too English".
"Breaking news coming into us here on Sky Sports News....the FA have released a statement saying that the contract of England U-21 manager Stuart Pearce has been terminated. "The FA would like to thank Stuart for all of his hard work", they say in this statement, "but it became clear that Stuart's services were no longer suitable after he became just too English".
Is CamEUron scared
I give up. I literally do. This is just...I genuinely don't know what to say.
of letting the world see the dead bodies of our troops that leave blood on his and Clegg's hands? Try and hide it away in Worcestershire or anywhere
"Worcestershire or anywhere" is an amazing, amazing bit of writing.
and hope there is no place anyone can come and pay respects.
It's only just re-reading this letter now that I see Val - yes, it's Val Duncan, who else - says "close down Wooton Bassett". Val Duncan thinks a town has been closed down. I'd cry if I didn't laugh.
Send the dead down motorways or back roads then the world won't see our grief? Destroy our military and force us into the EU Military Force? This 'fake' Prime Minister
David Cameron is a fake. The real Prime Minister is locked in a cupboard somewhere. It's in such a secretive location that not even Gideon Osbourne knows where it is. But he knows WHO it is, and isn't it interesting how you don't hear much from Michael Heseltine any more, eh?
is adding grievances to a list of things the people (remember us?) are keeping count of and one day Major (Maastricht Treaty), Blair and Brown (Lisbon Treaty) and Cameron and Clegg (Destroyers of our defences) will all stand in court to answer for their treason. The list grows longer and longer and the people (remember us?)
You've done that one.
are feeling more and more angry with the social engineering of our population, the wrecking of our economy and the insidious intrusion of the EU. Something will give and woe betide Westminster and those politicians and civil servants who are complicit in the destruction of our country. We will have revenge without mercy unless we are taken out of the insidious
You've done that one.
EU and given our own laws and liberties again.
This is vintage Val Duncan. Take it in, and enjoy. You'll miss this when she's gone.
We are a peaceful and just people, but we will not be sold to a foreign dictatorship while this Prime Minister pontificates over democracy for the likes of Libya and kills our own country for his own political ends and gold-plated pension
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! *punches the air*
via a wasteful and corrupt union.
Val Duncan
Wellington
Is there any way we can start an on-line campaign to make someone be considered as an MEP? Because I can't help thinking that Val would make an excellent candidate for that role.
Valerie Duncan MEP. You heard it here first, kids!
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Canary Row
Telling people about a wedding you've been to is like your Football Manager game or your holiday. Very interesting for you, but thoroughly dull and pointless for the person forced to listen to the whole sorry saga, desperately trying to finish their champagne so they can go off and get another glass and find someone far more interesting in the room. I understand that, and I sympathise, but a) It's my blog and b) I have pictures - albeit only about two - so that makes this blog post perfectly acceptable.
The drive from The Shire across the country to East Anglia took just over three hours. Our destination was Carrow Road, which you might know as a road in Norwich, but which you'll more likely know as the name of the football stadium located there. A rather plush Holiday Inn is located next door to the stadium, but alas my room faced the road and not the pitch. Here is a picture I took of the Carrow Road sign using the camera on my phone: http://twitpic.com/6dkaq0 You can't read that sign, can you? You'll just have to trust me on that one.
The wedding was on Sunday, and it was Saturday, so after checking in - where we stood behind the one and only Jimmy Tarbuck at reception - and unpacking we trundled over to a bar inside the football stadium entitled "Yellows" to meet up with the wedding party. We were greeted by my step-sister who was getting married for the second time - this time to an ardent Norwich City fan, hence the location. After a few hours of socialising, we all decided to go our separate ways for the evening (even though we were all in the same hotel), have dinner in different places and then an early night. On the way back to the rooms, we were once again reminded of what was going to happen the next day, and where: http://twitpic.com/6dkksm
Sunday arrived, and with it came a truckload of nerves, which were nice considering I wasn't actually doing anything in particular that day. As all around me tucked into their fried breakfasts, I cautiously had a few croissants with jam and a cup of tea. Strawberry, by the way, thanks for asking. The suits were put on and off we walked to the football ground, where, after the initial photos, we were ushered up three flights of stairs and into the room where the ceremony was taking place. Sitting on the second row, next to my big bro (that rhymes Marge!) we patiently waited. Ten to fifteen minutes later, a version of "Run" by Snow Patrol - sans lyrics - began to play, and we stood for the bride. I'm not going to lie - when my sister walked down the aisle with my dad beside her, I began to feel the tear ducts wobble a little, but one look at the picture of Darren Huckerby on the wall stopped that (I'm not joking either. He's a bit of a cult hero there, for some reason).
You know what a wedding ceremony is like, so let's skip that bit. A glass of Pimms, some canapes, more photos, a walk around the main stand and then back in for the meal. You may know that the Blessed Saint Delia Smith - best know in this country for her rousing and intoxicated "Let's be 'aving you" speech - is head honcho at Norwich City and the restaurant in the main stand comes with her seal of approval. To be fair to her, the meal was amazing: http://twitpic.com/6fjtdp
I could have done without the sorbet, which was rather unnecessary and just a palette cleanser, but I wasn't complaining. After the main course there were speeches which were touching and well handled, particularly the one from the best man who, as well as speaking, had taken the trouble to create a slideshow of pictures which were shown on the two TV screens on the wall. Pictures of the bride and groom, obviously. Not just any old pictures - that would have been odd. After the meal there was a tour of the ground hosted by a former player, but my younger brother was tired so I took him back to our room for a sleep via the bar where the United-Arsenal game was blaring out.
In the evening there was a disco, which took place in the same room as the main meal. After the gloriousness of the food a few hours earlier, the buffet that was laid on was a huge disappointment. Everything was either stale or thoroughly dull, and it was fortunate that we were all full up from the lunchtime meal and didn't have to eat a great deal. The disco was your standard fare - shit pop "classics", an over-enthusiastic DJ and middle-aged people doing the "walking to the dance floor walk" - but a really nice touch was a photo-booth set up at the end of the room which allowed you to put on some fancy dress/a stupid hat and have some pics taken. On that note, the author would like to point out he has no knowledge of who these two idiots are: http://twitpic.com/6fk9ag About 11pm we left, armed with a small box of chocolate footballs and a cupcake (http://twitpic.com/6fk9n3) each and that was pretty much that.
Highlight of the weekend? I'm ashamed to say it came on the Bank Holiday Monday. Before driving back home, we decided to have a walk round Norwich, which was perfectly lovely and splendid and just happens to contain a splendid Disney store. As a kid I was obsessed with Winnie the Pooh, particularly as I only lived about 20 miles away from Ashdown Forest, the setting for the stories. So when I saw this, I just couldn't resist: http://twitpic.com/6diwxq Drink not included.
The weekend as a whole got me thinking about marriage. I have always wanted to get married, but I honestly don't think I could go through with all of the rigmarole (at this late stage of the blog entry, what a word to pull out!) that goes with a lavish wedding. All of that planning and preparation...maybe it's fun, and exciting, and the day is certainly unforgettable, but I'm starting to think that maybe my Uncle was right. He and his lady flew off to New York, got married, had the honeymoon there, then came home. "Booked it, packed it, fucked off!" as Peter Kay would say, and neither of them have regretted it for a second.
So, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy two tickets to Boston. I believe the Yanks allow civil partnerships now, so the second ticket is for my friend Dan. Toodles for now!
The drive from The Shire across the country to East Anglia took just over three hours. Our destination was Carrow Road, which you might know as a road in Norwich, but which you'll more likely know as the name of the football stadium located there. A rather plush Holiday Inn is located next door to the stadium, but alas my room faced the road and not the pitch. Here is a picture I took of the Carrow Road sign using the camera on my phone: http://twitpic.com/6dkaq0 You can't read that sign, can you? You'll just have to trust me on that one.
The wedding was on Sunday, and it was Saturday, so after checking in - where we stood behind the one and only Jimmy Tarbuck at reception - and unpacking we trundled over to a bar inside the football stadium entitled "Yellows" to meet up with the wedding party. We were greeted by my step-sister who was getting married for the second time - this time to an ardent Norwich City fan, hence the location. After a few hours of socialising, we all decided to go our separate ways for the evening (even though we were all in the same hotel), have dinner in different places and then an early night. On the way back to the rooms, we were once again reminded of what was going to happen the next day, and where: http://twitpic.com/6dkksm
Sunday arrived, and with it came a truckload of nerves, which were nice considering I wasn't actually doing anything in particular that day. As all around me tucked into their fried breakfasts, I cautiously had a few croissants with jam and a cup of tea. Strawberry, by the way, thanks for asking. The suits were put on and off we walked to the football ground, where, after the initial photos, we were ushered up three flights of stairs and into the room where the ceremony was taking place. Sitting on the second row, next to my big bro (that rhymes Marge!) we patiently waited. Ten to fifteen minutes later, a version of "Run" by Snow Patrol - sans lyrics - began to play, and we stood for the bride. I'm not going to lie - when my sister walked down the aisle with my dad beside her, I began to feel the tear ducts wobble a little, but one look at the picture of Darren Huckerby on the wall stopped that (I'm not joking either. He's a bit of a cult hero there, for some reason).
You know what a wedding ceremony is like, so let's skip that bit. A glass of Pimms, some canapes, more photos, a walk around the main stand and then back in for the meal. You may know that the Blessed Saint Delia Smith - best know in this country for her rousing and intoxicated "Let's be 'aving you" speech - is head honcho at Norwich City and the restaurant in the main stand comes with her seal of approval. To be fair to her, the meal was amazing: http://twitpic.com/6fjtdp
I could have done without the sorbet, which was rather unnecessary and just a palette cleanser, but I wasn't complaining. After the main course there were speeches which were touching and well handled, particularly the one from the best man who, as well as speaking, had taken the trouble to create a slideshow of pictures which were shown on the two TV screens on the wall. Pictures of the bride and groom, obviously. Not just any old pictures - that would have been odd. After the meal there was a tour of the ground hosted by a former player, but my younger brother was tired so I took him back to our room for a sleep via the bar where the United-Arsenal game was blaring out.
In the evening there was a disco, which took place in the same room as the main meal. After the gloriousness of the food a few hours earlier, the buffet that was laid on was a huge disappointment. Everything was either stale or thoroughly dull, and it was fortunate that we were all full up from the lunchtime meal and didn't have to eat a great deal. The disco was your standard fare - shit pop "classics", an over-enthusiastic DJ and middle-aged people doing the "walking to the dance floor walk" - but a really nice touch was a photo-booth set up at the end of the room which allowed you to put on some fancy dress/a stupid hat and have some pics taken. On that note, the author would like to point out he has no knowledge of who these two idiots are: http://twitpic.com/6fk9ag About 11pm we left, armed with a small box of chocolate footballs and a cupcake (http://twitpic.com/6fk9n3) each and that was pretty much that.
Highlight of the weekend? I'm ashamed to say it came on the Bank Holiday Monday. Before driving back home, we decided to have a walk round Norwich, which was perfectly lovely and splendid and just happens to contain a splendid Disney store. As a kid I was obsessed with Winnie the Pooh, particularly as I only lived about 20 miles away from Ashdown Forest, the setting for the stories. So when I saw this, I just couldn't resist: http://twitpic.com/6diwxq Drink not included.
The weekend as a whole got me thinking about marriage. I have always wanted to get married, but I honestly don't think I could go through with all of the rigmarole (at this late stage of the blog entry, what a word to pull out!) that goes with a lavish wedding. All of that planning and preparation...maybe it's fun, and exciting, and the day is certainly unforgettable, but I'm starting to think that maybe my Uncle was right. He and his lady flew off to New York, got married, had the honeymoon there, then came home. "Booked it, packed it, fucked off!" as Peter Kay would say, and neither of them have regretted it for a second.
So, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to buy two tickets to Boston. I believe the Yanks allow civil partnerships now, so the second ticket is for my friend Dan. Toodles for now!
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
The One Where I Ponder Life
In four months time, it will be December. December 2011, to be precise, and I will be twenty five years old.
25. Twenty five. XXV. A quarter of a century.
For the first time ever, my age is beginning to freak me out. Because in December I'll be 25, and that feels an eternity away from 20, yet ominously close to 30. Before I know it, I'll be wearing cardigans, and sandals. I'll have a drawer set aside for handkerchiefs. 11pm will be considered a "late night", and I'll find myself agreeing with Ken Clarke.
The funny thing however is that I've always been a bit like that anyway. I had my childhood stage, the awful puberty stage, and then I seemed to skip the stage where everyone tried drugs, went to raves and music festivals and instead ploughed straight on to adulthood. I did a personality test the other day which told me that I was a 50 year old man stuck in a 24 year old body. Not literally - that would be odd - but you and I both know what it meant. For Gods sake, I fucking love sherry. And Pimms! So not only am I middle-aged, but I'm middle-class as well. How strange it is then that growing old terrifies me ever so slightly.
I've never, ever been physically fit, but this past year or so, I can feel the change. I've lost half a step, and I know it. I can feel the pain in the back of my legs whilst walking up The Wrekin. I can feel my stomach muscles aching a day after I've done gardening. Gardening, by the way! You see! Most of all, I can feel how sensitive my ankles are, after "going over" on them (particularly my left) once or twice a month. I was watching my football club play tonight. Our goalkeeper is 20, and the average age of the side was 23. Lewis Hamilton had won a F1 World Championship by the age of 25, Rory McIlroy a US Open. I appreciate none of that is exclusive to me, but, Christ, it makes me feel old.
I'm currently re-reading one of my favourite novels - 'Le Grand Meaulnes', written by Alain-Fournier. Two things strike me whilst reading it - a) How it's a precursor to 'Catcher in the Rye' (another novel that I love) and b) How both novels aren't about "coming of age" as many people think, but instead the exact opposite. They're "refusal to age" novels. For all the world-weariness and maturity shown by Augustine Meaulnes and Holden Caulfield in places, both of them are young adults who just can't force themselves to let go of their childlike tendencies. The reason why I love these books is because I can relate to them. I read Holden Caulfield and thought "fucking hell - that's me" and it's true.
Every one of you reading this will know this question: "What's the meaning of life?"
I hate to brag, but I reckon I solved that one a long time ago. The meaning of life, in my opinion, is to reproduce. Because if you don't do that, than your species dies, so your whole purpose is to keep the chain trundling along so that it's still going strong 100 years after you've pegged it. Here's where I become Augustine though. On one hand, all I want in life - realistically - is to fulfil that, to have a wife and a child. On the other, I want to watch baseball, eat crisps and try and get a degree without giving a solitary fuck.
What words scare you, if any? For me, it's words like "mortgage", "marriage" and most importantly of all "responsibility". The hilarious thing however is that I want all of those things, in the sense that I'll need a mortgage to have my own house, I'll need to take responsibility if I ever raise a child. Every time I dare to stick my neck above the parapet however I instantly think "fuck that" and go back to watching The Jerry Springer Show and tweeting some bollocks. How odd it is that the things I want the most are the things that terrify me the most.
I'm rambling and this is all pointless bollocks so time to wrap it up. In conclusion, I'm a man who's 24 going on 50 who also needs to grow up a bit. Nice to meet you. Now, who the hell are you?
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
Letters Pray
It's been well over a month since I've looked at some letters into The Shropshire Star, and the papers I've saved especially for this reason have begun to fester a little bit and really need binning. So, let's cut the small talk here and go go go. I'm treating you by lining up a Val Duncan DOUBLE-BILL first!
==================================================================
Cameron says: "If I was running a Conservative-only Government I think we would be making further steps on things like immigration control or making sure that our welfare reforms were absolutely making sure that if you're not prepared to work you can't go on welfare. I think we'd be tougher than that."
Right.
A very bad statement to make because Cameron is already known as Mr U-turn and this confirms we have a very weak Prime Minister who will give ground for an easy ride. Time to change the leader and put someone in place who has a backbone.
Who? I don't agree with Val's opinion here, but let's run with this last sentence. You get rid of D-Cam, and you replace him with....who exactly? Gideon? Michael Gove?
*little devil on Ewar's shoulder* "Don't you like David Davis and think he'd be a good leader?"
SHUT UP, YOU!
Also, Val seems to be criticising the fact that a leader operating in a coalition Government is making it very clear that he's the leader of a coalition Government. Boo! Send him to the stocks!
The Prime Minister made a speech a few months ago enthusiastically welcoming Turkey's 78 million into the EU, which of course means unfettered access to England which is already chronically overcrowded. That's how serious he is about mass immigration.
Of course it does. That is, OF COURSE, what it means. All of these Turkish people are now able to come over here now that they've joined the EU. I'm looking forward to meeting a Turkish person! We've never had one in this country before, of course.
Now please just excuse me whilst I go and get a kebab. Lovely guys down at my local kebab house. No idea where they come from!
We could virtually stop immigration in its tracks if we stopped the benefit system (but I suppose this isn't allowed by the EU!)
Lol!
David Cameron is the biggest disaster ever. Need I add more?
"The Biggest Disasters Ever - A List by Val Duncan"
5 Hindenburg
4 Munich Air Disaster
3 Titanic
2 Pompeii
1 David Cameron
Val Duncan
Wellington
================================================================
Europe wants to raise the percentage of reduction of carbon footprints from 20% to 30%?
That is a brilliant idea.
What a brilliant idea.
I know! Good, isn't it?
Let us send all manufacturing and wealth creating to China or even India...we can all sit back and let China and India send us financial aid.
Hmm?
Can I ask just when our Prime Minister is going to start thinking about Britain? Please Mr Cameron will you stop looking in the mirror and practising looking important on the world stage and start looking at the state of our country instead.
This is really annoying, as Val wrote this BEFORE Cameron decided to stay on his holidays rather than come back to the UK once the looting started, so reading this now it appears that she has a point. Damn you D-Cam! Nevertheless, I like this paragraph a lot more when you take it literally, and imagine our Prime Minister taking a few moments every day to look in the mirror and "practice looking important".
Whilst I'm here - "Europe wants to..." suddenly becomes all about Cameron and Britain. Far be it for me to try and wade through Val Duncan's thoughts and make some sort of sense out of them, but I'm not sure this really makes any sense whatsoever. As we've seen in the past, she HATES a federal Europe, but now she wants Europe to keep all of it's profitable manufacturing going whilst banning David Cameron from looking in mirrors.
I think?
We are under-educated and under-defended;
Speak for yourself.
unemployment is abysmal; we are cutting everything and paying more for essentials. Either get a grip or stand down. You are not up to the job.
I for one welcome our new David Davis led overlords!
Val Duncan
Bratton
Seriously, you were from Wellington a few minutes ago. What's going on?
===============================================================
There's only so much Val Duncan a man can take, so let's move on.
Is Nato finished?
No.
One good reason it will not survive - it is costing America too much.
Wrong.
Allan Tucker
Oswestry
Thanks Allan!
To be honest, I secretly like Allan Tucker. If you're going to be wrong - and he ALWAYS is - it's better to be wrong in about 12 words then 1,200.
================================================================
I have just been in a local shop and asked where was the fat (very helpful and efficient) girl -
This is going to be a boring letter. Does anyone want a cup of tea? I'm just on my way to the kitchen, so if you want anything shout now or forever hol...hang on, what? Can you repeat that?
I have just been in a local shop and asked where was the fat (very helpful and efficient) girl -
Wow. And I mean that.
a perfectly innocent comment! Not a slur!
When I get to about 70, can someone just put me down, please? I don't want to end up like this person, or like my Gran, who goes to church several times a week yet is the biggest racist I know.
The thing is, she doesn't do it deliberately - it's just the attitude that she's grown up with, and now times have changed she can't adapt. But that's a race thing. Surely there's never been an acceptable time to flippantly describe someone, in a social context, as "the fat girl"?
It reminds me a little of Father Ted, the way that Matthews and Linehan named their characters - "The Dancing Priest", "The Boring Priest" and so on.
I was told by the obviously educated lady serving that I should not say such things etc.
If there's one thing I fucking hate - and which we need less of - it's educated people. Fuck off, learned people! Take a hike, socially aware, diplomatic, courteous and kind folk!
What a narrow-minded nasty little world the politically correct brigade have brought about!
And......I'm bailing.
J H Price
Madeley
I read the letters page every day, yet I've never seen this name before. That, combined with the last sentence, makes me think that I'm being had here.
Because this is a wind-up, isn't it? It has to be. I don't want to exaggerate my power and influence(!) but I do get readers landing on these blog entries often having Googled a letter writers name. There's a danger that combing through the letters pages, I've set myself up for a right merking - someone has seen this blog and tried to reel me in with a letter like this.
JH Price from Madeley. My eye is very much trained on you. Fat boy.
==================================================================
One more.
I cannot believe the content of Val Duncan's letter (July 4th). While I am concerned about the way some immigrants seem to get benefits, it's obvious that most of that letter is untrue, very inflammatory and intended to stir up racial hatred.
Ron Jones
St Martins
Ooof! It's Ron Jones 1-0 Val Duncan!
Can Val equalise?! Join us next time to find out, kids!
==================================================================
Cameron says: "If I was running a Conservative-only Government I think we would be making further steps on things like immigration control or making sure that our welfare reforms were absolutely making sure that if you're not prepared to work you can't go on welfare. I think we'd be tougher than that."
Right.
A very bad statement to make because Cameron is already known as Mr U-turn and this confirms we have a very weak Prime Minister who will give ground for an easy ride. Time to change the leader and put someone in place who has a backbone.
Who? I don't agree with Val's opinion here, but let's run with this last sentence. You get rid of D-Cam, and you replace him with....who exactly? Gideon? Michael Gove?
*little devil on Ewar's shoulder* "Don't you like David Davis and think he'd be a good leader?"
SHUT UP, YOU!
Also, Val seems to be criticising the fact that a leader operating in a coalition Government is making it very clear that he's the leader of a coalition Government. Boo! Send him to the stocks!
The Prime Minister made a speech a few months ago enthusiastically welcoming Turkey's 78 million into the EU, which of course means unfettered access to England which is already chronically overcrowded. That's how serious he is about mass immigration.
Of course it does. That is, OF COURSE, what it means. All of these Turkish people are now able to come over here now that they've joined the EU. I'm looking forward to meeting a Turkish person! We've never had one in this country before, of course.
Now please just excuse me whilst I go and get a kebab. Lovely guys down at my local kebab house. No idea where they come from!
We could virtually stop immigration in its tracks if we stopped the benefit system (but I suppose this isn't allowed by the EU!)
Lol!
David Cameron is the biggest disaster ever. Need I add more?
"The Biggest Disasters Ever - A List by Val Duncan"
5 Hindenburg
4 Munich Air Disaster
3 Titanic
2 Pompeii
1 David Cameron
Val Duncan
Wellington
================================================================
Europe wants to raise the percentage of reduction of carbon footprints from 20% to 30%?
That is a brilliant idea.
What a brilliant idea.
I know! Good, isn't it?
Let us send all manufacturing and wealth creating to China or even India...we can all sit back and let China and India send us financial aid.
Hmm?
Can I ask just when our Prime Minister is going to start thinking about Britain? Please Mr Cameron will you stop looking in the mirror and practising looking important on the world stage and start looking at the state of our country instead.
This is really annoying, as Val wrote this BEFORE Cameron decided to stay on his holidays rather than come back to the UK once the looting started, so reading this now it appears that she has a point. Damn you D-Cam! Nevertheless, I like this paragraph a lot more when you take it literally, and imagine our Prime Minister taking a few moments every day to look in the mirror and "practice looking important".
Whilst I'm here - "Europe wants to..." suddenly becomes all about Cameron and Britain. Far be it for me to try and wade through Val Duncan's thoughts and make some sort of sense out of them, but I'm not sure this really makes any sense whatsoever. As we've seen in the past, she HATES a federal Europe, but now she wants Europe to keep all of it's profitable manufacturing going whilst banning David Cameron from looking in mirrors.
I think?
We are under-educated and under-defended;
Speak for yourself.
unemployment is abysmal; we are cutting everything and paying more for essentials. Either get a grip or stand down. You are not up to the job.
I for one welcome our new David Davis led overlords!
Val Duncan
Bratton
Seriously, you were from Wellington a few minutes ago. What's going on?
===============================================================
There's only so much Val Duncan a man can take, so let's move on.
Is Nato finished?
No.
One good reason it will not survive - it is costing America too much.
Wrong.
Allan Tucker
Oswestry
Thanks Allan!
To be honest, I secretly like Allan Tucker. If you're going to be wrong - and he ALWAYS is - it's better to be wrong in about 12 words then 1,200.
================================================================
I have just been in a local shop and asked where was the fat (very helpful and efficient) girl -
This is going to be a boring letter. Does anyone want a cup of tea? I'm just on my way to the kitchen, so if you want anything shout now or forever hol...hang on, what? Can you repeat that?
I have just been in a local shop and asked where was the fat (very helpful and efficient) girl -
Wow. And I mean that.
a perfectly innocent comment! Not a slur!
When I get to about 70, can someone just put me down, please? I don't want to end up like this person, or like my Gran, who goes to church several times a week yet is the biggest racist I know.
The thing is, she doesn't do it deliberately - it's just the attitude that she's grown up with, and now times have changed she can't adapt. But that's a race thing. Surely there's never been an acceptable time to flippantly describe someone, in a social context, as "the fat girl"?
It reminds me a little of Father Ted, the way that Matthews and Linehan named their characters - "The Dancing Priest", "The Boring Priest" and so on.
I was told by the obviously educated lady serving that I should not say such things etc.
If there's one thing I fucking hate - and which we need less of - it's educated people. Fuck off, learned people! Take a hike, socially aware, diplomatic, courteous and kind folk!
What a narrow-minded nasty little world the politically correct brigade have brought about!
And......I'm bailing.
J H Price
Madeley
I read the letters page every day, yet I've never seen this name before. That, combined with the last sentence, makes me think that I'm being had here.
Because this is a wind-up, isn't it? It has to be. I don't want to exaggerate my power and influence(!) but I do get readers landing on these blog entries often having Googled a letter writers name. There's a danger that combing through the letters pages, I've set myself up for a right merking - someone has seen this blog and tried to reel me in with a letter like this.
JH Price from Madeley. My eye is very much trained on you. Fat boy.
==================================================================
One more.
I cannot believe the content of Val Duncan's letter (July 4th). While I am concerned about the way some immigrants seem to get benefits, it's obvious that most of that letter is untrue, very inflammatory and intended to stir up racial hatred.
Ron Jones
St Martins
Ooof! It's Ron Jones 1-0 Val Duncan!
Can Val equalise?! Join us next time to find out, kids!
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