Friday, 30 November 2012

Driven to Distraction

Ever get the feeling that you should be doing something else?

I don’t care if you do, it’s me we’re here to talk about, and quite frankly I have been doing all sorts of things I shouldn’t.

I won’t go into too much detail about some of them (they’re watching us you know) but I can tell you that I have been unnecessarily collecting small plastic tubes in the vague belief that they will ‘come in useful’ and filing away the leaflets that people put through the door ‘just in case’… in case of what?

Most frightening of all I have started to put on nail varnish, then remove it, file my nails, and then put on nail varnish again. I think I might be getting high on the fumes, either that or the smurfs I’ve seen dancing on the window ledge are real… 


Thursday, 29 November 2012

The Sea of Tranquillity

No I am not on the moon.

For those of you who don’t understand that, get a map of the moon.

Instead I am in a zone of calm, a place of quiet and solitude. Well it would be quiet if the boiler cupboard wasn’t so noisy, and it would be solitude if I wasn’t constantly plagued by the knocking of avon, betterware, Jehovah’s witnesses and passing family members. Gits.

Because of this irrational calmness you may find that I am only mildly amusing at the moment rather than hilariously guffaw inducing. I apologise heartily for this, and will ensure that I get pissed off about something or other in the very near future. My taps have been playing up recently, maybe I can tell you about that one day when I give a crap.

But for now I shall attempt to incite a chuckle of mild surprise and alarm by presenting you with something I discovered on my travels around the internet (I don’t have the constitution for actual travelling) whether it is ‘real’ or not is irrelevant, it is the strange recesses of peoples minds that I find startling, so here you go, a picture of a hairy, ginger, shave-able baby:



Happy Thursday.

Monday, 26 November 2012

How To: Give

Hmmm giving. It’s a bit of a big old mess really, isn’t it?

I do feel the need to point out to that you can abstain. You don’t have to give, you don’t have to partake. You can refuse. It is an option. But do you have the constitution for it?

I think we all know the answer to that, we all feel the pull of social obligation, the hideous, compulsory nature of it all, if we all took a stand together and just said ‘no’ then it would be all right. But it won’t happen, it can’t happen, there is always some little shit that wants to give.

It is because of them, that one smug git, that we are all in this mess together.

Why do we give? Once we start to understand this, we might be able to find a way to wriggle out of it.

Ignoring the smug gits that enjoy the feeling or whatever, let’s go through the reasons the rest of us normal folk give stuff away:

1: Because it is too much hassle not to, because you cannot, no matter how much you try, ignore your parents and other ‘loved ones’.
Handmade beards. Always a valid option.

Try: Default presents. My father has often received 4 or 5 chocolate oranges at once; it is his default gift, the one everyone falls back on. You’ve known your family long enough, find something random, stick to it. Easy.

OR: Make something: every bugger is doing it, it’s all the rage, apparently it shows that you love. Don’t get too hung up on it, there is a tonne of crap out there that you can buy and cobble together for your mum. Best of all there are places where you can buy handmade useless crap. It completely defeats the object, but who cares? You won’t get glue on your fingers.

2: We may find ourselves in the situation in where someone at work  or a 'friend' puts a little box of chocolates on our desk, you have that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realise that you must return the favour. 

You can stop this, but it takes time and dedication: the aim here is to reduce the value of the gift slightly over a number of occasions. You can do this straight away by just not giving anything back. But this can cause pent up anger from the other party which can explode into other areas, not always pretty. Be subtle.

They spent a fiver, you spend four quid, and always exchange like for like. So it is frikken obvious to their little brains that they aren't getting as much back; they will reduce the value of their gift out of a feeling of being treated unfairly. You do the same. They spend four, you spend three.

Do not give into a temptation to compete – if they start spending more, then simply ignore their moose-like stomping, get them the same gift as last year, that little box of lindt, they will soon stop their silly nonsense when they realise that you're the winner because you're spending less. They will stop their competing, and the gifts will reduce and may even stop altogether. Sorted.

3: Because we want something in return. I don’t wanna know what it is, don’t care.

But if this is the case then you have to become a gift wizard, a ninja of altruism, calculating your every move to ensure that the receiver follows the path you have laid before them and ends up just where you want them and willing to lavish upon you whatever filthy thing you were after.

This takes the kind of behind the scenes preparation that MI5 would be proud of, you must ensure that the gift, the paper, the placement, the timing, the colouring of the flippin tag is absolutely perfectly, spot on right, in order to appeal directly to the receiver’s sense of gratitude, flattery whatever the frick you're going for. This will take obsessive, stalker like skills and is probably going to occur once in a blue moon and since I am now thoroughly bored of this blog I’m simply going to wish you the best of luck.

Right I’m done, I’m going to curl up and sleep for a bit.

Thursday, 22 November 2012

The unrecognised genius

That’s me, by the way.

I am the unrecognised genius.

You see the thing is that these days I am largely spending time on my own listening to the strange sounds from next door of thrashing about, screaming, a loud thud, dragging and then digging late at night, but at least that bloody Katy Perry noise has stopped.
perfectly sensible

So I am not getting out and about as much as usual. Don’t go getting the wrong idea! I have enough invitations! I have invitations coming out of every orifice! I have had to loudly and firmly tell people ‘No!’ then swipe them on the nose with a newspaper, otherwise they just hang around, like dust weevils.

I am staying inside to keep my shoulder to the grindstone, or my elbow, or nose. I’m not sure what it is that you keep to the grindstone to be perfectly honest, it really depends on the etymology of the phrase you see, if it goes all the way back to the early beginnings of agriculture then it would be both hands and a matter of putting your back into it. However if the phrase started just before the industrial revolution then it might be a matter of putting your donkey to the grindstone with the aid of a rope and pulley system.

It’s all context you see.

Where was I?

Ah yes! That’s right: Sod off!!

Monday, 19 November 2012

How to cope with: The ‘Christmas Spirit’

There really is no way out you know. I have been desperately trying all weekend to think of a decent way out. Or even an indecent way out. Just saying ‘I’m opting out this year’ ever so politely to people and not acknowledging that Christmas is happening.

I was thinking it is rather like waiting for your own execution. Then I realised that I was totally wrong about that.

An execution lasts seconds (if you’re lucky) then sweet, sweet oblivion.

it's a sickness that needs to be stopped
Waiting for Christmas is like patiently waiting for three days of hideous, hideous torture, surrounded by several weeks of mind-numbing and relentless pain.

So today we focus on ‘Spirit’. The Christmassy type.

It is vomit inducing and usually includes smiling Americans, and ‘hilarious’ Hollywood mooovies about love and being together and how commercialism doesn’t really matter when you have each other (which would, of course, mean so much more if the mooovie hadn't made 75 million)

Some people manage to just sail through the season without any problems at all.

I am starting to believe that is the best method to cope.

It’s like a wave, resisting it will drown you, you have to dive in and swim through it.

NO, I am not suggesting that you sit down with the family and sing tunes around the piano, which would probably kill you.

Instead, scatter yourself. Scatter yourself far and wide. Visit people, take a drink and a piece of cheese on a stick, then go. Visit someone else, quickly! Visit for no longer than a couple of minutes and rush away again! No one will question your busyness!

OR

Pretend to do the above. Every time you accidently bump into someone, rush off after a few seconds ‘Sorry must fly, have to collect the Christmas pud/Australian relative/giant toy for a child you don’t know’. Anytime, anyone visits, say you’re just going out and usher them out the door after barely a pause for breath.

You have relatives and friends (you must do, otherwise none of this would be a problem) there are also many, many charities you might claim to be helping, you could also claim to be part of the donkey in the local panto! No one need know, and don’t be too specific about which local group you have joined.

Be seen to be a whirling frenzy! Never stopping for a second because you are just so friggen into Christmas.

Then you can be free to sit on your backside and enjoy the blissful silence.

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Inexplicable Images

I am full of lethargy today. My lustre is distinctly lacking. So I thought I would share with you some photos wot I found.

Back in the days of black and white photos, when it was well expensive and that, to make a photo, people used to only have photos for a damn fine reason, there was none of this 'planking' back in them days, or people taking pictures of their mate asleep with a tash drawn on them, none of this larking about nonsense... Oh no. People would have real legitimate reasons and a clear need for a photograph... wouldn't they?

So what exactly is this lot?

You can almost hear the voice of the parent: "I want my boy to be smoking in his portrait, to show he is a man, make him look sullen, have him fold his arms, that sort of thing." However what is perhaps more disturbing is that someone, at somepoint said: "I think this would look better with a cock in it."


What is this? What is happening? The child is clearly terrified. Those people have strange gimp masks and twigs, they are probably about to bundle him into a van and yet someone said... "You know what, this is a frikken Kodak moment."  


"Darling, I'll just be in the garden dressed as a mosquito, riding in circles on my bicycle." Obvs.

 
 
Which one of these sick bitches thought this was a good photo? I mean they all seem pretty happy about it...

It's not so much the cat, the skeleton, the french horn, the mist, or the cards... its the ears. What the frik?


I almost admire this smart arse shit - "You said a suit!" git.

 

Young woman, old man, large vegtable... there is a joke here, I just don't want to spell it out.
 

"What I'm looking for is a picture of a really tall man, preferably in a top hat, with a child sticking their face out of his arse. Have you got any like that?"

Right, well that is quite enough of that silliness. I stole these pictures from here so if you have more time to waste you can sod off there, rather than bothering me all the time.

Monday, 12 November 2012

HOW TO: Survive the Christmas ‘WORK DO’

It’ll happen.

No doubt they are already plotting it. Sometimes they forget, but some bright little bugger will always chirp up and say ‘Oh wot ‘bout Christmas do fing yeah?’ You could fling something heavy at that person’s face before they stop talking, but that can occasionally cause more problems than it solves.

So what to do?

You could just say you aren’t going. Then stick two fingers up at the person who asked.

This is often fine, if you don’t have to interact with the people you work with. However if there is some reliance on others which could be hindered by their hatred of you, then you might have to come up with an excuse.
twisted bastards

DO NOT: provide the excuse too early.

This is a massive no no!

They might try to accommodate you by moving the date. This has happened! So be warned.

Leave the excuse until they have booked the venue, got the drinks ordered and you know that there will be no dates left if they want to change it. You are now safe to provide the perennial excuse of ‘Family commitments’.

You could have a sickly relative, although this may only last once or twice.

By far the BEST excuse is to:
a) be foreign and leave the country (not for everyone, obviously)
b) have a ‘close’ relative that lives abroad, and is only in this country for the weekend on which the ‘do’ happens to fall.

This excuse can be used again, and again, and again. They can be pulled out the bag at the last minute, and of course in dire circumstances you can combine the relative from aboard with the sick relative and have a ‘sick, foreign relative’ excuse that will get you out of anything. Even at short notice.

IF YOU DO GO:

There may be free booze. Drink as much as you can, but try to leave before they can take pictures of you collapsed in the toilet.

OR

Don’t drink, wait around, then take pictures of your boss collapsed in the toilet.

As tempting as it may be, try not to take advantage of that colleague that you’ve had your eye on for the past 6 months, UNLESS you have the power to fire them when things inevitably get awkward.

Finally: you could try making the most of a bad situation; Try quietly provoking people you hate into having arguments with each other, or even with you, being careful to make it seem as though you are the ‘good guy’ – No longer will they have the power to make you feel like a caged chimpanzee!

But what ever you do, do not (I repeat) DO NOT: dance.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

Four More Years!

Everyone is cheering and smiling and patting one another on the back – yay four more years etc etc

Now ordinarily I would be all like ‘wha?’ ‘who?’ ‘wha?’. But even though this is a load of foreigners that we shouldn’t care about on our ‘Great’ little island – we have to care, because the US think they are the world police and so whoever is in charge of the US is in charge of a crazy world police who will drag us into what ever crazy plan they have next.
 
Luckily for us Obama won. Yay, with a tiny little cheer.

Why a tiny little cheer?

Because I’m still crapping myself about Sarah Palin. Those Tea party women are the craziest crazies around (and I’m using ‘crazy’ because we are talking about Americans) and she is their perfect leader, what with her high school sweetheart husband and her dancing daughter and her family troubles and the fact that she hasn’t admitted to being a witch.

‘But why are you scared of a manic moose murderer?’

I think you just answered your own question… but I’ll dignify you with an answer.

Because in four years Obama won’t be able to run, Sarah Palin (or any of  the tea party lot) will – she wasn’t quite daft enough to run against a nobel peace prize winner, instead opting to not support a republican she'd previously beaten.

So we have four years of relative safety – but watch that spectre of darkness as she looms upon the horizon, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Now here's a lovely polite little song which is completely unrelated:

 

Monday, 5 November 2012

How to deal with Christmas Songs

They are here already. They have been for some time. I believe I heard the first one way back in September. But as one swallow does not mean summer, so one Christmas song does not mean the satanic, capitalist, greed fest is upon us.

However with just a few weeks to go, we are now inundated. They pour out at us from every musical orifice you can imagine, and I know you can imagine a few!

What to do? What to do?

Well, first of all I shall waste some blog space by telling you about this one time I worked in a shop.

Yes I know it seems unlikely that I was successful in offering decent customer service to anyone ever, but actually I worked in shops for years. Years and years and years; until my ears bled from the petty complaints of the common masses; I think these years may have had something of an effect on how I now view the human race today.

Anyway, to get to the point (there’s a point!?) we had one 60 minute tape (yes, tape, get over it) we worked roughly 8 hour shifts, so you can imagine how we felt about that music after several months. So when, in September, we received a new tape, we shoved that in the tape box as quick as a snitch.

Lo and behold! A whole new circle of hell awaited us; cheaply reproduced Disney ‘classics’.

This does make me wonder if there will be songs in the new Star Wars films… I think I would want that to happen just so I could laugh at people’s outrage.

Anyhoo erm yes… This is supposed to be a ‘How To’ on dealing with Christmas songs, but frankly there is no answer. It is hell on earth, so if you can’t break all the little music boxes in the shops, or just listen to something else then I can’t help you.

So sod off.

Now here’s some Star Wars music: