Sting
As we all know, Sting is a gigantic spaz and Trudie is as well. I challenge you not to watch this video and shout WANKERS!!! at your computer, even if you do not swear ever and are a monk and/or a nun who has taken a vow of silence. (Of particular note: the bit where Captain Twat himself starts singing towards the end. I cannot comment on the fish.)The only circumstances in which Sting is acceptable is when he is being covered by the legendary Jonny B, who is the best banjo player in England. Note: when I say 'covered' I do not mean it in the veterinary sense.
Windchimes
Unless you live in the middle of a field out of earshot of the rest of us, you should not be allowed to have windchimes. You may think the sound of windchimes jingling in the evening breeze is restful, but it disturbs my concentration - which could be potentially fatal in some circumstances, e.g. filling small clay pipe, steaming fez, etc.
Note: there is nothing worse than a hippy-type who bangs on about how much they love for e.g. the environment, nature, other people etc. They are the ones with dogs on strings, windchimes, curried lentil hotpot, cigarettes made out of twigs and smelly hair that disturb everyone else. Also, when you ask them for e.g. to stop smoking their cigarettes made out of twigs and doing clown-dancing and juggling in gigantic hats to an accompaniment of the lute and recorder on your front lawn, and when you ask them to stop recyling their babies' nappies in your recycling bin and/or living in your trees etc, and when you tell them that homeopathy doesn't work and crystals do not have energy, they say that 'not everything can be explained' and that you are a fascist!!!
Asking if we are "trying for a baby now we are married"
Are you the sort of person who strokes pregnant women's 'bumps' without asking? This is a truly ghastly question to ask (unless you are someone's friend). I have been asked it three times by relative strangers (e.g. hairdresser, person on shoot, person introduced to last weekend) in the last few weeks. So far, the best reply I have come up with is: "who can tell"?
Another rubbish thing is that many ghastly expressions - the ones that make your toes curl in horror - are invariably attached to babies, which is not fair on either the babies or their mothers. For e.g.:
1. "trying for a baby"
2. sudden loss of the article, e.g., "how is Baby?"
3. random and over-familiar use of the word "mum", e.g. "and how is Mum feeling today?"; "us mums like to get together!"; "Mums love Dettox!", "proud Mum to Horatio, 1 and Ebenezer, 5" etc. (I ask you: what is wrong with the word 'mother'?)
4. "little ones", "little xxx" (fill in name of baby)
5. "kiddies"
etc etc
NB: I like babies/children very much, and some of my favourite people are mothers, so if you are one of those humourless 'Mommy bloggers' looking for a fight, you will not get one here, no sirree!
Touching base
Acceptable in a sporting context; not acceptable, in any circumstances, in the workplace. I have said it before and I will say it again and again until it stops.
Ill-mannered dogs
Yesterday morning at 3.30am, I took great pleasure in leaning off my balcony and shout to my very stupid and very selfish downstairs neighbours, who were in their garden SHOUTING with their friends: "Excuse me. EXCUSE ME. Would you mind SHUTTING THE FUCK up?".
They shut up, and then at 7am they let their badly behaved, ill-trained dogs out into the garden, who then woke us up again with their relentless yapping as they do every morning at 7am. I dressed quickly, I went downstairs, I banged on their door, and I said many, many things, none of which I regret; indeed, this morning, they waited until 9.30 to let the dogs out. Result!
(I do not blame the dogs. The behaviour of dogs, like children, is entirely the result of their training. Monkeymother and Monkeyfather, for example, kept my brother and me in a box in the garden, letting us out only to perform highlights from the later works of Gilbert O'Sullivan for any visiting guests. Rewarded with Garibaldi biscuits and punished with Alan Parsons, we grew up to be - as anyone who knows us personally can attest - two perfectly-behaved, hugely accomplished, attractive adults, with more than our fair share of social and circus skills).
No doubt there is more to come.
Pip pip!
NWM
15 comments:
Hourah! you sorted your neighbours out good and proper.
I have never touched a pregnant lady's pregnant bit without asking, but I do often ask if I can because I find them strangely pleasing. I realise that we probably stopped being friends at the end of that sentence but I cannot tell a lie.
Yup, "trying for a baby" does conjure up unpleasant images of joyless effortfulness doesn't it? Apparently it is socially unacceptable to ask "so, you must be having loads of unprotected sex now, then?" though. I find.
A related phrase you don't mention but which I find ceaselessly amusing is "fell pregnant", as if loose paving slabs increase the birth rate or something.
next time someone asks if your "trying for a baby" you could tell them that you instead you were going for the plush alligator or the rhinestone anklet and matching tiara.
I know the whole trying for a baby is so rude - you might as well ask someone if they had a nice shag fest last night.
Kate xx
http://secretofficeconfessions.blogspot.com/
Some may also say that those who do little else with their lives than bring their whingeing objections to the attention of others, are infinitely more objectionable than a thousand Stings and deserve their neighbour's wind chimes or what ever else incessantly irks them to be placed firmly up their arse.
Dear Anonymous*
I have tried putting windchimes up my arse (they were darker days, when I was more both 'experimental' and more athletic) and I couldn't even get a small set in, even with copious amounts of water-based lubricant.
As to being "infinitely more objectionable than a thousand Stings" - that is amazing and I shall take it as a compliment!
Thanking you for your continued interest in these difficult times,
NWM
* Negative comments = always Anonymous.
JPM: bloody good idea as it goes - how much money to be able to quote you? How much?
Ooooooh the irony, the delicious irony, of those who leave petty whingeing comments on blogs complaining about petty whingeing.
"To me, eating is one of the most important things we do..." said Trudy in faux-intellectual style.
Well. Words of wisdom for all of us I think. Let's just take a moment to contemplate the depth and originality of that statement.
And... we're done. Wankers of the wank, wank, wankiest sort. They probably have GD wind chimes. Those big, honking wooden things.
Having spend many fruitless nights trying to sleep despite the "ting TING ting CLANG bing BONG" eminating from unidentified neighbour's properties (the inability to identify them without leaving the warmth of my bed being the only thing saving them from dog poo in the letter box) I think wind chimes in urban areas should be ILLEGAL and punishable by DEATH.
Trying for a baby? You've only been married 15 bloody minutes! You should be allowed a least a year or two before you ruin your lives, I mean have cute, ickle babbies.
And just you wait if you have a girl first. Then you'll be asked when you're going to have YOUR BOY, as if boy children were state-mandated. The first time I got asked that question Girl Child #1 was 8 WEEKS OLD. I said, "I THINK SHE'LL DO NICELY FOR NOW, DON'T YOU?" in exactly that upper case kind of tone. More wankers.
May I make the most humblest request that the final sub-heading be editing to read, "Ill-mannered dog OWNERS." Thanking you on behalf of badly raised dogs everywhere.
Also, how much to you charge to shout, "Excues me. EXCUSE ME. Would you mind SHUTTING THE FUCK up?" at pig-ignorant neighbours. I have neighbours who need that very thing shouted at them as they hot tub every night at 11:45 p.m., shouting over the sound of the water jets not 10 feet from my bedroom window. Air fare included, of course.
I shall refrain from touching base with you until you've had a sensible night's sleep.
*runs away sharpish*
You might like to check this gem out on The Facebook. "Pictures of Sting looking like a twat": http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=5272453863
Other things not acceptable in the workplace: colleagues asking me to "reach out to [insert name or department]".
Quote away! No money, but I would accept a small percentage of anklets or tiaras, if you get some.
As usual, I agree with everything, except I have to admit to a sneaking appreciation of some of Sting's music, and I never gave the monkeychildren Garibaldi biscuits.
As for the baby thing, I would smile charmingly (but with more than a touch of pity) and say: "What an extraordinarily indelicate thing to ask. Do you really think that's any of your business?".
That whole "mum/baby" thing is nauseating, but just a small addition to the list: I have been referred to as the "mum" of our dogs. How vile is that?
I did enjoy Anonymous's comment, I confess. May I recommend baby oil for the insertion of wind chimes? Afterwards, there are certain foodstuffs better avoided but at least they don't chime incessantly.
Yet again, dear NWM, you are wise beyond your years. I promise I have never used the "trying for a baby" line in my life as I think it's revolting, quite apart from the none of their business bit. And wind chimes are horribly irritating.
I had just the same spam message myself today. I don't understand it, unfortunately. Have you tried those useful-looking websites?
Hello Z dear. I think the anonymous message says "do you want a 1.2kg box of Bendicks Bittermints delivered in the post every day?". If so, my answer is 'yes'. In other news, thank you for your ongoing support in these difficult times.
MM, was it Fig Rolls? You used to say that Monkeyfather liked a nice Fig Roll, but I am not sure that that it what you meant!!
Allannah, I am in heaven. Thank you.
Dawn dear, I hooted. Thank you for your kind words of support in these difficult times.
JPM - I give you one dollar, virtual dollar. With that, you by one dollar worth chewy candy for the thank you.
Fig rolls are the work of the devil. As are Gardibaldi biscuits. I think it's your false memory syndrome kicking in again. I suppose we might have given you a dried crust to gnaw on when you very good.
Post a Comment