Hello again, right hopefully this will work, I have written 4 intros already today and every time I have had some great fucking meltdown between the version of Word I am using and the version of Office I am using. I don’t know why, its never done it before, but every time it has happened it has sent both programs spiraling wildly out of control, which in PC terms means frozen bollock still… anyway, seeing as how I have already written 4 different shite-stained intros, I shall dispense the usual formalities and cut straight to… Aldershot Woes Episode 24: Technology.
I am a fairly chilled person, this is for a few good reasons, firstly I was literally stoned off my face for a solid decade, and though I grew up and left the gangee in the past, the mellowness has left its footprint in my eternal soul, another reason is I am generally to lazy to get worked up about things, it requires a tremendous amount of effort to be enraged by something, and I really don’t have the time for it. The last and probably biggest reason I hate getting mad about things is, and this is true for everyone, you look like an absolute cock when you do. You get hot and bothered, usually sweaty, you say things that are pretty abhorrent and instantly regrettable, and once you have shouted your mouth off and kicked and punched and head-butted and gauged and spat at what ever it is that has got you all worked up like a Guardian reader at a meat and pollution expo, hosted by Jeremy Clarkson wearing a George Dubbya Bush T-shirt made of misappropriated foreign aid money and dead polar bears, you are left shaking like a leaf as the adrenaline surges through your body and you come to the realization that the hell of the last few minutes was in public and you could well be the biggest boob that has ever lived and you want to drown in a lake of your own complete prickishness! All public shows of real emotion are an embarrassment but the over riding wang-factor that goes with raging is just too much to even contemplate… But as I have found out this morning technology is able to coax me out of my shell of chillaxation and lure me in to the lime light of being a complete dick-shaft all too easily.
Technology is smug shiny bright flashing beeping twat of a bastard, and if we all lived in caves and beat dinosaurs over the head for our tea and wore shitty fucking saber tooth tiger tunics I would be far happier than I am now lost in a sea of twattish useless technology, that I am not only being told I cant live with out I am now being forced in to a situation where I actually can’t live with out… well unless I go and become some sort of hermit, but I’d get lonely and end up scribbling hate filled tirades of bad grammar and anger on the wall of my cave (not a million miles from where I am right now)… Technology, urghhhrrrr.
The worst part of my relationship with technology is this, given my age I should be on the fucking cusp, I should have an I-phone and know how to set up my broadband properly and I should be able to download shit for free rather than pay for it like a mug. I ought to be able to watch streaming football matches and I ought to know how to get my laptop to stop loading a zillion different things I don’t want when I start it up... Why do I have so many different Anti-Virus things start up at once? MacAfee are telling me I need to update NOW, Norton are assuring me if I don’t renew or install the full version my family will be killed in their sleep by Nigerian fraudsters. It’s completely befuddling, and once that’s done Real Player is trying to log on to my internet to offer me updates I have to download and telling all about the latest MP3s and a whole host of other shite I have no interest in, then as soon as that’s done, a Nokia app I thought I had to install to see the pics on phone pipes up, then I-tunes and they all start fighting with each other because WMP is the set media player and I really ought to change to another one as they all start vying for me attention… anyway 50 minutes later, my laptop which is still newish and good(ish) is in some sort of working order… God it’s a tremendous fucking bore just to find the footy results as the wife is annoyed at me checking via the “Red-Button” every 2 seconds… But this infinite technological headache is made a thousand times worse due to the fact I have NO excuse for not being a techo-wiz-kid like the average 9 year old.
I am 27, when I was at school the internet was still in its infancy in terms of the number of people who had it, I had a few mates who were well off and they had the “NET”. But I had no interest in it and no chance of any home based technological influence as my mums idea of technology is usually a fucking Camping gadget (“it’s a knife, fork, spoon, bowl, and plate all in one, it saves us precious packing space!!”) and my dad up until 2 years ago was still fighting this newfangled devil disc called a CD??? But I do remember going to my friend’s houses and seeing first hand the marvel of the internet when I was about 15 or so, and I was not impressed at all. All it seemed to be was an endless string of chat-rooms and incredibly shit games. Look were playing Ski3, but with some one in Denmark!!! Wowsers… I honestly thought it would go the way of the bar-code battler or the game of Scatch (remember that the Velcro padded tennis ball catching game?)… But it didn’t get old and boring, apparently I did. My family did finally get a PC at the very end of the last millennium, just in time for my dad to be sure it would kill us all at the stroke of midnight on New Years Eve as Y2K kicked in and the shitty Gateway PC we had grew arms and strangled us in our sleep thanks to the dreaded Millennium Bug. What the fuck was all that about? “beware all as on the start of the new millennium your PCs internal clock will rollover and start at zero, casting society back to the days of Christ!!”. Anyway, I was dumfounded by the thing but I did learn how to watch highly amusing videos of frogs in blenders, and I also managed to navigate my way to websites where you could see honest to god real dead celebrities… the internet was very shit for a long time.
Badly animated 80s cartoon parodies and dead celebrities aside, I found little or no use for the internet at all. In the distance I can hear readers cry out loud the word “porn”, as though I have missed the great keystone of the internet, but alas the world of late 90s uber slow to load dial-up modem internet porn never tickled my fancy… and with good reason. The newly purchased family PC was located in the dining room, not ideal territory for knocking out a sly one, especially as my dad was camped out with a baseball bat watching the computer with growing paranoia and impending sense of new millennium doom. Although unfortunately my elder brother felt no such qualms in partaking in left handed mouse usage, although his less than IT savvy mind didn’t see fit to hide his trail of internet grub, which led to my mums first foray online beginning in clicking wildly at the address bar in Internet Explorer and ending on a video of Japanese girls getting covered in midget jizz… She hasn’t been online since bless her. Nope, not one good thing about the internet could be found by me… So I more or less ignored it and waited for the next fad to come in. But whilst I was in technological limbo the internet and all its high powered micro-processored buddies were gathering followers and strength, until we are where we are today, the fucking future, and rather than the hover boards and ray-guns we were promised all we have is shiny stupid phones and the ability to tell people what we are doing 24 hours a day, it is not the bright utopia we had hoped for, still at least the Martians haven’t taken over, thank heavens for small mercies.
Now apart from having been born as part of the silicon generation and still not having clue one about how to use a pc, or an i-phone or an i-pod, in fact almost all the entire i-range is beyond my simple grasp, the i-pad has me shitting it, there is another reason I should be good with this techno stuff… I have worked selling IT for the last 6 years! Yep, I have advised multi million pound corporations on what servers they should go with, on what software they need to buy, I have reeled off the marvels of multi-core processors to government agencies and made serious recommendations about power supply back ups to police forces, I have made heart felt pleas for people to look not only at their data storage, but how they store it, their RAID configurations, and then how they erase the fucking stuff once they’re done with it, safely. And the whole time I have not had an iota of an idea on how to turn “sticky keys” off on Word, or how to install a printer or load songs on to a bastard i-pod… a total hypocrite I know, and all the while still to lazy to actually learn how to do any of this stuff. And now I am a dinosaur before my time, and in a couple of years my kids will be coming home from school and plugging their homework in to the surgically attached i-ports in their heads and virtually whizzing around the world in hi-def super 4D technology and they will look at me like I am a fucking caveman, as I sit there scratching my arse reading a book or playing darts, can you believe it real hold in your hands like a troglodyte darts, not shiney bleeping techno darts… I am an embarrassment.
Technology, it has me over a barrel and has left with no choice but to embrace it with open arms, this is mainly because it actually has some good stuff, well it has slightly updated stuff to when I first saw it, more funny videos (I am tempted to say Virals to sound cool, is that what they are???) and rather than dead celebrities it has alive ones 24/7 and the news is great and comment sections on articles and blogs show the best most wacky and impressively deranged members of the online community. And though I am not a technophobe I will always the sort of person who can put up a brick wall but be fucking clueless with a firewall (surely it can’t be as cool as it sounds?). To an extent I have embraced technology for what it is, part of life and one that is increasingly unavoidable, I wont buy an i-phone and my laptop will always take forever to turn on, but I know enough to spout this gutter shit and put it somewhere unsuspecting member of society can read it ONLINE, which is progress. (infact I only started this blog by accident trying to log on to leave inane comments on Robbos blog!).
Well there you go another day another Woe, you can’t follow me on Twitter as I can’t use the fucking thing.
Woe
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
elderly
Back again so soon? Well yeah I am bored and need to extrapolate some of the mind trumps which are spewing out my thinker at an alarming rate… that’s right its 2 in 2 days of the blog equivalent of eating a turd sandwich, it’s the 23rd Aldershot Woe.
Well the Woe-seekers, we have explored all sorts since I started writing this murky thought dribble I call the Aldershot Woes a lot of important things have happened in the world, governments have been formed, world cups have been boring, simpering idiots have been locked in a house with their fate in the hands of members of the public, but I already mentioned the government being formed… hahaha, ohhhh sweet, sweet satire. But we here at the Woes haven’t looked at any of those things, rather than doing what the man has said we should do, we have walked our own rebellious path of retardedness and today is no different... so where as I could bring you an insightful piece of writing about global economics or the wrongs of war or drugs or the increase in teenage mortality rates in inner city communities I am instead going to moan about a far more serious problem… Old People!
I love old people, I just couldn’t eat a whole one… the words of Barry Munton a man who was arrested last month for semi digesting an elderly man in Eastbourne, and though his actions have been wildly condemned by the greycentric media, his actions are gaining support from many corners of society… And why? I’ll tell you why old people are becoming a nuisance…
Medicine it’s great, it enables people to live to 80 and be fit and healthy and never have to suffer, sounds like the shit to me. But what about those over 80, is medicine doing the right thing for these leathery, skeletal members of society or is it abusing its power and playing god, keeping those that should have long since passed on alive and well, and crotchety and smelling like cabbage and wee…
Old people are everywhere you go and if they are not close to death and seriously depressing they sitting on busses talking loudly about their grandchildren or trying to partake in conversations with strangers and making everyone they do speak to feel bloody awkward. “You’ll be old too one day” I hear may people say, yes and I’ll be a depressing annoying drain on society, only fit for handing out Wurthers Originals or buying lottery tickets. Well its about time we did something about old people as they are set to become the vast majority of us, which means that the depressing bitter near-to-deaths are going to have more power than ever… and do you want that?
No.
People are going to live longer and longer, right now in the UK we have more over 70s than we do under 16s, and given that the vast majority of our under 16s are pregnant, by the time our under 16s become our over 70s the average age of people in the UK will be 300. And given the fact that we will all have to work well in to our early hundreds before we can even think of retiring, society will transform and a grey dawn of the knitted regime will be upon us. The over 70s will be fitter and more affluent than ever before, and society will be forced in to line with its blue-rinsed majority. Lawn bowls will get all the lucrative sponsorship deals, and its best players will be forced in to the limelight and paid millions for their trade. Gucci will start making colostomy bags and Louis Vuitton will design those large shopping bags on wheels old people have which take up all the cocking room on the bus. You’ll get “Smart” mobility scooters and I-phones apps which make it easier to bore the fuck out of people in the post office with pictures of your fucking grandchildren in Australia. Society will be upped an age group and MTV will launch MTV-Wrinkle, a 24hour Sir Cliff and Daniel O’Donnell nitemare, you’ll wear “Incontinence, by Calvin Klein” cologne, and social networking sites will be replaced with anti-social networking sites, where any groups of young people online socialising together have the police called on them and ASBOs issued. All forms of media will need to stop kowtowing to the young and imbecilic and embrace the old and the decrepit, Heat magazine will swap its search for cellulite for a search for liver spots, Nuts will swap fake tits for false limbs and teeth. Otex don’t organise Meat Raffles but if they did they’d probably be the best Meat Raffles in the world. God, all of advertising will swap humour and sex appeal for hard fact and comfy jumpers. The Linx effect will be swapped for the “Old Spice” effect, and rather than being “Tangoed”, people will be “Dandilioned and Burdocked”… Where will it all end.
The orthopaedic shoe will well and truly be on the other foot, the younger facets of society will be forced down the social food chain as gangs of dangerous yoots are swapped for hoards of urban bee-keepers (who in fairness have an excuse for their hoods) and drug dealers are forced out of town as the contraband home made jam mafias move in... it will be us too scared to leave the sanctuary of our homes for fear of abusive groups of seniors, cussing us down in their OAP slang, calling us “Lollygaggers” and “Jacanapes”, rolling around the estates in convoys of pimped-out mobility scooters and accessory laden walking frames. We shall be the intimidated and the scared and the confused, we will be the ones making long ambling phone calls to our parents asking how to set up a game of bridge properly. We will be the ones complaining as elderly neighbours blare out Flanders and Swann at all hours of the day and night. We will be the ones outraged by the scandals on the Archers, and writing to Points of View about the reckless and dangerous behaviour of those trouble makers on 15 to 1. We will become the crushed minority as the grey revolution gathers momentum unless we act now to stop it.
The grey menace is readying itself and everyday its numbers grow, they are preparing for the day to overthrow their young masters, and when we least expect it the air will be filled with the smell of ear medicine and shit, the hum of stair lifts will rage in the distance like a swarm of angry wasps and on that day the balance of power will shift to the elders, and we will forever be lost to the regime of the fogeys.
We must act now to save our selves from the future that awaits us, of having to say everything at least twice and all of TV sets being set as loud as they can go. So the next time you see an old person, try and surprise them to trigger a heart problem, remind them that all young people carry knives and please, ensure they read the daily mail so they know exactly how many foreigners are being paid by the state to rob and terrorise the elderly. It is up to us to stop the “Perminators” from rising.
Good luck, you’ll need it…
Well E23 of the A-Dubs is done and I am actually calling for the blood of senior citizens, a new low even for myself. To be honest I think of the elderly like I do the rich “I will hate you till I become you”… And they are not all bad, although I did, and this is no lie, see an old lady just squat and take a piss in the middle of the carpark behind our flats not long ago… so they aint all good neither!
You can’t follow me on Twitter as I don’t know how to use the laptop, my granddad was meant to show me, but I didn’t really understand it…
Woe
Well the Woe-seekers, we have explored all sorts since I started writing this murky thought dribble I call the Aldershot Woes a lot of important things have happened in the world, governments have been formed, world cups have been boring, simpering idiots have been locked in a house with their fate in the hands of members of the public, but I already mentioned the government being formed… hahaha, ohhhh sweet, sweet satire. But we here at the Woes haven’t looked at any of those things, rather than doing what the man has said we should do, we have walked our own rebellious path of retardedness and today is no different... so where as I could bring you an insightful piece of writing about global economics or the wrongs of war or drugs or the increase in teenage mortality rates in inner city communities I am instead going to moan about a far more serious problem… Old People!
I love old people, I just couldn’t eat a whole one… the words of Barry Munton a man who was arrested last month for semi digesting an elderly man in Eastbourne, and though his actions have been wildly condemned by the greycentric media, his actions are gaining support from many corners of society… And why? I’ll tell you why old people are becoming a nuisance…
Medicine it’s great, it enables people to live to 80 and be fit and healthy and never have to suffer, sounds like the shit to me. But what about those over 80, is medicine doing the right thing for these leathery, skeletal members of society or is it abusing its power and playing god, keeping those that should have long since passed on alive and well, and crotchety and smelling like cabbage and wee…
Old people are everywhere you go and if they are not close to death and seriously depressing they sitting on busses talking loudly about their grandchildren or trying to partake in conversations with strangers and making everyone they do speak to feel bloody awkward. “You’ll be old too one day” I hear may people say, yes and I’ll be a depressing annoying drain on society, only fit for handing out Wurthers Originals or buying lottery tickets. Well its about time we did something about old people as they are set to become the vast majority of us, which means that the depressing bitter near-to-deaths are going to have more power than ever… and do you want that?
No.
People are going to live longer and longer, right now in the UK we have more over 70s than we do under 16s, and given that the vast majority of our under 16s are pregnant, by the time our under 16s become our over 70s the average age of people in the UK will be 300. And given the fact that we will all have to work well in to our early hundreds before we can even think of retiring, society will transform and a grey dawn of the knitted regime will be upon us. The over 70s will be fitter and more affluent than ever before, and society will be forced in to line with its blue-rinsed majority. Lawn bowls will get all the lucrative sponsorship deals, and its best players will be forced in to the limelight and paid millions for their trade. Gucci will start making colostomy bags and Louis Vuitton will design those large shopping bags on wheels old people have which take up all the cocking room on the bus. You’ll get “Smart” mobility scooters and I-phones apps which make it easier to bore the fuck out of people in the post office with pictures of your fucking grandchildren in Australia. Society will be upped an age group and MTV will launch MTV-Wrinkle, a 24hour Sir Cliff and Daniel O’Donnell nitemare, you’ll wear “Incontinence, by Calvin Klein” cologne, and social networking sites will be replaced with anti-social networking sites, where any groups of young people online socialising together have the police called on them and ASBOs issued. All forms of media will need to stop kowtowing to the young and imbecilic and embrace the old and the decrepit, Heat magazine will swap its search for cellulite for a search for liver spots, Nuts will swap fake tits for false limbs and teeth. Otex don’t organise Meat Raffles but if they did they’d probably be the best Meat Raffles in the world. God, all of advertising will swap humour and sex appeal for hard fact and comfy jumpers. The Linx effect will be swapped for the “Old Spice” effect, and rather than being “Tangoed”, people will be “Dandilioned and Burdocked”… Where will it all end.
The orthopaedic shoe will well and truly be on the other foot, the younger facets of society will be forced down the social food chain as gangs of dangerous yoots are swapped for hoards of urban bee-keepers (who in fairness have an excuse for their hoods) and drug dealers are forced out of town as the contraband home made jam mafias move in... it will be us too scared to leave the sanctuary of our homes for fear of abusive groups of seniors, cussing us down in their OAP slang, calling us “Lollygaggers” and “Jacanapes”, rolling around the estates in convoys of pimped-out mobility scooters and accessory laden walking frames. We shall be the intimidated and the scared and the confused, we will be the ones making long ambling phone calls to our parents asking how to set up a game of bridge properly. We will be the ones complaining as elderly neighbours blare out Flanders and Swann at all hours of the day and night. We will be the ones outraged by the scandals on the Archers, and writing to Points of View about the reckless and dangerous behaviour of those trouble makers on 15 to 1. We will become the crushed minority as the grey revolution gathers momentum unless we act now to stop it.
The grey menace is readying itself and everyday its numbers grow, they are preparing for the day to overthrow their young masters, and when we least expect it the air will be filled with the smell of ear medicine and shit, the hum of stair lifts will rage in the distance like a swarm of angry wasps and on that day the balance of power will shift to the elders, and we will forever be lost to the regime of the fogeys.
We must act now to save our selves from the future that awaits us, of having to say everything at least twice and all of TV sets being set as loud as they can go. So the next time you see an old person, try and surprise them to trigger a heart problem, remind them that all young people carry knives and please, ensure they read the daily mail so they know exactly how many foreigners are being paid by the state to rob and terrorise the elderly. It is up to us to stop the “Perminators” from rising.
Good luck, you’ll need it…
Well E23 of the A-Dubs is done and I am actually calling for the blood of senior citizens, a new low even for myself. To be honest I think of the elderly like I do the rich “I will hate you till I become you”… And they are not all bad, although I did, and this is no lie, see an old lady just squat and take a piss in the middle of the carpark behind our flats not long ago… so they aint all good neither!
You can’t follow me on Twitter as I don’t know how to use the laptop, my granddad was meant to show me, but I didn’t really understand it…
Woe
Monday, 12 July 2010
Positive
So here we are once more, the weekend is gone and it has taken the world cup with it for another four years. And now as the hangover of the last 4 weeks sets in we find ourselves rolling over to see what football has become in the cold light of sobriety, and good fucking god, we’ve just been banging a minger for the last four weeks! What has footy become, that’s the shittest world cup in my life easily, even worse than 94 when we all supported the fucking paddies for a fortnight… and that was the cocking yanks putting that one on. But who cares about that anyway, leagues back on soon enough and to fill the tedium of life between then we have the 22nd edition of the Aldershot Woes…. Fuck, we are in trouble!
The last Woes have been, well… woeful, which despite the title isn’t necessarily what we go for around here, the aim generally is a witty insight in to whatever hits my thought box at around this stage of writing whatever it is I am going to write, so bollocks to the doom and gloom for today. I mean so what if humanity is up shit creak, in a boat made of shit with no paddle, as that was also made of shit and has fallen in to the creek of shitness as it was all slippy and nutty, and now not only are we stuck up shit creek in a boat made of shit with no paddle our hands are all covered in shit as well, ahrgh, and now we have an itchy eye and the only way to scratch it will result in having our eyes pasted in shit! It’s not a big deal really is it? Of course not… well probably not. Anyway let’s remove the permanent anchor of impending doom and get ourselves a well earned dose of happiness and frivolity as we put on a wacky t-shirt, talk in silly voices and skip merrily through the world of…. Positivity.
I am an incredibly annoying person for many reasons, as it would be obvious to anyone familiar with this blog, but the most annoying thing about me is I am chirpy in the face of any adversity. It grates on my wife’s nerves something rotten, and I completely understand why. When you are in a stooper nothing is worse than someone being merry and reasonable, it is the worse thing in the world… I know this as I do occasionally go in to seething rages, but over the most flippant things, tv remotes not working, burning toast, my tea getting cold, losing my page in a book, and all the other petty, stupid things men get in to micro-rages about… You know them 2 minute hissy-fits which leave you looking like a total prick, but are completely unavoidable… but when in a mini-rage the worst thing in the world is someone trying to cheer you up or explaining that you shouldn’t be in a rage, and then detailing why you shouldn’t, just to heighten the level of prickyness you already feel. But when it comes to big things, serious problems, financial strife, illness, family problems, deaths, births, marriages, anything that actually matters, I approach them all with a simpering cheeriness that would make you want to cave my skull in with a lump hammer. And apart form my inane and winsome grin trying to smile my way to a resolution, I also embark on a series of completely inappropriate jokes to help the situation along, “Chemotherapy’s not all bad, now you’re streamlined you’ll knock precious seconds off your 100 meters breast-stroke”…followed by my own self satisfied chuckles. How I have not been murdered or at least seriously beaten remains a mystery.
For the longest time I believed I acted this way out of some nervous defense system, “Lookout, life’s coming, make a joke or it’ll get you and make you cry… like a little girl… in front of everyone you know!”. I actually dreaded it and lived in constant fear of the next time some thing important happened to someone and I ruined it and get a great mouth full of Stan Smiths. This led me to just do nothing when someone told me something big, my best mate could be telling me that his wife is leaving him and I’d just sit there and try to be nonchalant and wait for the moment to pass, so I don’t unintentionally make the situation about a trillion times worse, however the problem with that is that me trying to look nonchalant looks more like I have a brain condition and am trying to do long division. That is arguably worse than the chuckle and barrage of bad jokes I’d have bottled up inside me. But as I have gotten older I realise that my gallows humor is not a bad thing at all, an inappropriate thing maybe, an annoying thing almost certainly, but not a bad thing… no siree not bad at all.
I do my best to live by a simple code for life, and it is this “Laugh or Cry”. Basically life is always going to have goods and bads these are unavoidable despite our best efforts, and though it is cheesier than a Frenchman dipped in Brie wearing a Camembert hat and Emmental de Savoie shoes, being upset about things for an unreasonable amount of time does nothing to make anything any better ever, so what’s the point… turn that frown upside down! I also strongly believe the best way to deal with any problem is make a joke out of it, no matter what it is as long as you can find comedy in it you can find hope. Its really an old cliché that the world looks better through a smile, but like most clichés it has deep roots of truth, so despite the fact that you may want to cut my face off and throw it like a Frisbee for your dog when I chuckle like a madman at your problems and make a series of highly inappropriate jokes, I shall continue to do so, with an honest comedic sense of good intent in my heart.
Positive, unless were speaking HIV, it’s never a bad thing, and though there are times it is far easier to weep like a fat girl at a salad bar rather than guffaw like a blunt minded nincompoop watching a Will Farrel movie, in the long run it is always better to have hope over despair, and if despair is all you have got then make a joke out of it, like the Jews or English football fans. Life is far too short and tragic to ever really be taken seriously, so what’s the point in being upset about it? It is always better to just love what you have and hope for the best rather than to constantly be sad and bitter and covet all you do not have. That is why Morecambe is Happier than Wise, why Ren is sadder than Stimpy and why you see great seas of blissful simpering morons littering the streets of this country laughing like drains at all they see, yeah they have no money, their mum and dad are cousins and they have 7 toes on each hand, but when an excuse to whoop excitedly and celebrate giddily arises, they wrestle it to the floor, feed it crisps and beer and snigger like banshees. Even over the most mind numbing shit like people getting evicted from Big Brother, although that in itself is a deeply depressing thought, its that ethos of laughing and enjoying life like a relentless prick that will lead to a better life, so see happiness everywhere and seize it in a kung-fu grip. All you can ever do in life is laugh or cry…. Seems like a pretty easy choice to me.
Well that was happier than the last load of bollocks I wroted on the intynets, and somewhere it its garbled hybrid of bad English and confused ranting’s is a message, a
message of hope, of positivity, of always looking on the bright side of life no matter what old lady fate tries to trip you up with. Life is a terrible thing and the only thing that can make it worse is wasting it being a miserable guff-monger of doom. I mean people who take life too serious spend all their time being outraged at what might happen they lose all site of what is happening. And well that’s just a great stinking turd of a way to be if you ask this sniggering, simple minded, grinning imbecile… LOL.
For today only, as I am in a good mood you can follow me on twitter, just don’t dampen my buzz man!
Woe
The last Woes have been, well… woeful, which despite the title isn’t necessarily what we go for around here, the aim generally is a witty insight in to whatever hits my thought box at around this stage of writing whatever it is I am going to write, so bollocks to the doom and gloom for today. I mean so what if humanity is up shit creak, in a boat made of shit with no paddle, as that was also made of shit and has fallen in to the creek of shitness as it was all slippy and nutty, and now not only are we stuck up shit creek in a boat made of shit with no paddle our hands are all covered in shit as well, ahrgh, and now we have an itchy eye and the only way to scratch it will result in having our eyes pasted in shit! It’s not a big deal really is it? Of course not… well probably not. Anyway let’s remove the permanent anchor of impending doom and get ourselves a well earned dose of happiness and frivolity as we put on a wacky t-shirt, talk in silly voices and skip merrily through the world of…. Positivity.
I am an incredibly annoying person for many reasons, as it would be obvious to anyone familiar with this blog, but the most annoying thing about me is I am chirpy in the face of any adversity. It grates on my wife’s nerves something rotten, and I completely understand why. When you are in a stooper nothing is worse than someone being merry and reasonable, it is the worse thing in the world… I know this as I do occasionally go in to seething rages, but over the most flippant things, tv remotes not working, burning toast, my tea getting cold, losing my page in a book, and all the other petty, stupid things men get in to micro-rages about… You know them 2 minute hissy-fits which leave you looking like a total prick, but are completely unavoidable… but when in a mini-rage the worst thing in the world is someone trying to cheer you up or explaining that you shouldn’t be in a rage, and then detailing why you shouldn’t, just to heighten the level of prickyness you already feel. But when it comes to big things, serious problems, financial strife, illness, family problems, deaths, births, marriages, anything that actually matters, I approach them all with a simpering cheeriness that would make you want to cave my skull in with a lump hammer. And apart form my inane and winsome grin trying to smile my way to a resolution, I also embark on a series of completely inappropriate jokes to help the situation along, “Chemotherapy’s not all bad, now you’re streamlined you’ll knock precious seconds off your 100 meters breast-stroke”…followed by my own self satisfied chuckles. How I have not been murdered or at least seriously beaten remains a mystery.
For the longest time I believed I acted this way out of some nervous defense system, “Lookout, life’s coming, make a joke or it’ll get you and make you cry… like a little girl… in front of everyone you know!”. I actually dreaded it and lived in constant fear of the next time some thing important happened to someone and I ruined it and get a great mouth full of Stan Smiths. This led me to just do nothing when someone told me something big, my best mate could be telling me that his wife is leaving him and I’d just sit there and try to be nonchalant and wait for the moment to pass, so I don’t unintentionally make the situation about a trillion times worse, however the problem with that is that me trying to look nonchalant looks more like I have a brain condition and am trying to do long division. That is arguably worse than the chuckle and barrage of bad jokes I’d have bottled up inside me. But as I have gotten older I realise that my gallows humor is not a bad thing at all, an inappropriate thing maybe, an annoying thing almost certainly, but not a bad thing… no siree not bad at all.
I do my best to live by a simple code for life, and it is this “Laugh or Cry”. Basically life is always going to have goods and bads these are unavoidable despite our best efforts, and though it is cheesier than a Frenchman dipped in Brie wearing a Camembert hat and Emmental de Savoie shoes, being upset about things for an unreasonable amount of time does nothing to make anything any better ever, so what’s the point… turn that frown upside down! I also strongly believe the best way to deal with any problem is make a joke out of it, no matter what it is as long as you can find comedy in it you can find hope. Its really an old cliché that the world looks better through a smile, but like most clichés it has deep roots of truth, so despite the fact that you may want to cut my face off and throw it like a Frisbee for your dog when I chuckle like a madman at your problems and make a series of highly inappropriate jokes, I shall continue to do so, with an honest comedic sense of good intent in my heart.
Positive, unless were speaking HIV, it’s never a bad thing, and though there are times it is far easier to weep like a fat girl at a salad bar rather than guffaw like a blunt minded nincompoop watching a Will Farrel movie, in the long run it is always better to have hope over despair, and if despair is all you have got then make a joke out of it, like the Jews or English football fans. Life is far too short and tragic to ever really be taken seriously, so what’s the point in being upset about it? It is always better to just love what you have and hope for the best rather than to constantly be sad and bitter and covet all you do not have. That is why Morecambe is Happier than Wise, why Ren is sadder than Stimpy and why you see great seas of blissful simpering morons littering the streets of this country laughing like drains at all they see, yeah they have no money, their mum and dad are cousins and they have 7 toes on each hand, but when an excuse to whoop excitedly and celebrate giddily arises, they wrestle it to the floor, feed it crisps and beer and snigger like banshees. Even over the most mind numbing shit like people getting evicted from Big Brother, although that in itself is a deeply depressing thought, its that ethos of laughing and enjoying life like a relentless prick that will lead to a better life, so see happiness everywhere and seize it in a kung-fu grip. All you can ever do in life is laugh or cry…. Seems like a pretty easy choice to me.
Well that was happier than the last load of bollocks I wroted on the intynets, and somewhere it its garbled hybrid of bad English and confused ranting’s is a message, a
message of hope, of positivity, of always looking on the bright side of life no matter what old lady fate tries to trip you up with. Life is a terrible thing and the only thing that can make it worse is wasting it being a miserable guff-monger of doom. I mean people who take life too serious spend all their time being outraged at what might happen they lose all site of what is happening. And well that’s just a great stinking turd of a way to be if you ask this sniggering, simple minded, grinning imbecile… LOL.
For today only, as I am in a good mood you can follow me on twitter, just don’t dampen my buzz man!
Woe
Friday, 9 July 2010
Truth
So then, its here at last, the day we all wait for, Friday, and what better way to celebrate the Smokey Bacon of the Walkers selection pack that is “the week” than another mosey through the half-baked, semi retarded, quasi bastard, octo-readable, hexiteenthed wordage, that is the Aldershot Woes… How’do?
Today with the advent of the 21st Woe we enter a world of official adulthood and with an air of newfound maturity on today’s Woe we are going to be taking a look at a subject that is hard to define and is sought as hard as it avoided. It is an unfathomable quantity completely created by man, it is definable through perception alone and means something wholly different to everyone who comes in to touch with it. So with no more delay we put on our crumbiest tweed jackets, shine up our leather elbow patches, stroke our goatees with a look of controlled bewilderment and puff jauntily on our pipes as we take a look in the confusing world of… The Truth.
Honestly.
The truth… what is it, who wants to know and why ever would they want to? Its something we all wonder about constantly, even if we don’t know we are doing it, we are… even right now probably. We use it to define ourselves in both our eyes and the eyes of others, it is the self inflicted bench mark of humanity and the cruel thing is not one of us has a bloody clue what it is… ever. We have built our entire society around this principle, and though the search for it remains a catalyst for human endeavour it is also a huge bloody anchor around our necks. By looking for universal truths and meanings we will never be contented with the simple blessing of existence. Looking for the truths of ourselves in terms of origin, for me, is the biggest waste of time ever, for centuries nerdy guys have locked themselves in laboratories using extreme mathematics and algorithms to predict not only the when but the how of the universe itself. By studying rock patterns and lunar projections and hypothesising the size shape and distance of the universe these boin-dexters have wasted their lives looking for a suitable explanation of how it all began, and even after a life time of study and research the answers are little more than over educated guesses. What a futile waste of human brain power and resources and life. If you woke up one morning surrounded by piles of money, would you spend the rest of your life trying to work out where it all came from or would you get straight down to the old coke and hookers department of your nearest John Lewis??? But again the human obsession with truth enthrals these undoubtedly brilliant minds in to wasting the chances they had of making genuine changes in the world. And if we ever did have concrete evidence of what came before us and how it all happened it would probably be a great fucking disappointment like the StarWars prequels, and would make us more depressed then we are now anyway…
But it isn’t just the truth of exactly who and why and what we are that fills the minds of our species we are also obsessed with social truths, the truths that tell us all how to live and behave and judge others. These truths are entirely manmade and are contorted and shaped to society’s trends, but by and large it is the truth that you should be good and work hard. However this area of truth is where it is most confusing.
Society is a great tug-o-war between bullshit and honesty, and more over the bullshit side is pulling honesty through the mud along his face. People by their very nature are bullshitters, which despite how it sounds is not a bad thing. It is the single greatest defence mechanism of mankind and with out the ability to bullshit the world would have been in ruins long ago. Although our egos would like to believe other wise all compromise is the art of bullshit, with out the skill for 2 opposing parties to bullshit to each other all disagreements would result in eventual conflict. All day everyday people live honest lies for the greater good of themselves and the people they love. Be it going to work or taking the kids to school, eating a healthy breakfast even just getting out of bed in itself is a huge mountain of bullshit most days. Life unfortunately for all of us is a series of shitty tasks performed in the faint hope that one day you will be justified in performing them, and by and large that hope is met. But that does nothing to make doing these things any less bullshit and dishonest. The great paradox of the social truth is the more of a lie your life is, the greater the betrayal it is to the things you want to do and the person you are, the more honest it is. Transversely those that are the most honest in society, those that live by their base desires and put the wants of themselves before all else are the most dishonest in society. Sacrifice is made by all decent members of society all the time, a few monetary sacrifices are thrust upon us by the world we live in, like taxes, but the vast majority of sacrifices we make are completely of our own devices. Having kids is a huge sacrifice, as is serious commitment to someone you love, going to work is a sacrifice, getting along with people is more sacrifice, helping others is another, as is asking for help, caring is a sacrifice, making friends is a sacrifice, walking to the shops is an enormous sacrifice, getting on a bus even bigger than that, putting up with people you simply detest for your job or your home is a sacrifice, living in a world which forces you to be part of it and gives you no power to change or speak or do a damn thing about it is a sacrifice… Life is a crappy series of sacrifices all for the benefit a greater good we don’t understand, but in doing so it enables society to strike a balance that works and grows and occasionally shows the faint glimmer of happiness (ok more than occasionally, but it has to sound bad for my long winded analogy to work). But all of the hardships life throws up are controllable through bullshitting, by turning the other cheek and telling yourself it doesn’t matter, by smiling through gritted teeth, by saying hello to your neighbour when all you really want to do is smash their stupid face in for playing fucking techno at 3 in the morning. Without bullshit being an intricate part of who we are society would explode in a sea of anger. By denying our lazy shitty base human desires by effectively lying to ourselves we are able to achieve things and be part of a society which does fail massively in some areas but could be (and we forget this all to often) about 6 trillion times worse. If we all start being honest with society we embrace the bad nature, and one of the worst flaws of man is the fact it takes no effort at all to be a complete shit sack but to be a decent person you have to work unbearably hard all your life, and even then there is no guarantee.
Wow the truth of society is long and boring and my argument is fractured and made poorly, but I’ve written it now and so it stays, plus I sort of almost make a point half way through. Anyway now on the bit about truth we all care about, how much of a putrid waste of skin, bone and shit are you? Yeah it’s the best till last… the everyday personal truth, and where we search drastically for the truths to the great unknowns and are trapped in a paradox by the truths of society when it comes to personal truths we all start running for our lives like extras in a Godzirra (is that racist?) movie!
Shut up, fuck off and don’t judge me… pretty much the rule of today’s world like contestants in a twisted game show we all do our best to hide our ugliness and general ignorance and every other rancid trait we have, and the best way to hide just how appalling we really are? It’s easy, just cover them bad boys in a thick skin of bullshit, and hope for the best. We all lie, from great big whoppers to tiny little white ones, its just every now and again we have a desperate need to fib like a naughty kid. We usually do this out of social inadequacies or to protect ourselves from some hideous embarrassing truth, that if it ever reared its head would have us chased out of society by an angry crowd with pitch forks! Silly lies like this usually get us in the shit eventually and can spiral rapidly out of control and before you know you’re in some farcical Larry David type situation, we all know that kind of lying is either stupid or in some cases plain cuntish. The lies that go with personal truths though are far more interesting, and less hideous and deplorable. Often the truths we wish to hide, especially for men, are the most endearing ones, as for some reason these are seen as signs of potential weakness. Men have to lie about being tough all the time, and it is shit. I had the bad fortune of growing up in a crap town and unfortunately as a result when I was younger I got involved in fights, I have both beaten and been beaten and numerous times when not been involved in some stupid act of mindless violence I have witnessed the horror and the misery it inflicts at close quarters. I can assure any one if they have any doubt that being tough and fighting is completely shit. Nowadays I, like all other sensible people avoid violence at all costs, yet as a big stinking liar of a human, if some one gives me the evil eye when out and about rather than shy away I will stare back with insincere anger… and why, coz I have to be moron… It’s stupid, men especially spend all our time giving each other dead legs and arm wrestling, when the truth is we hate it like crazy! Women on the other hand put up huge walls of bullshit, in ways that baffle and confuse my simple man-mind. The area that women are least honest it appears to me is with their friends, if you put 2 woman together they will gaggle on for hours about any insipid topic you waft in front of them, they will laugh raucously and seem the very bestest of buddies. But the truth is every woman everywhere hates everyone of her friends intently. Another grey area for truth with women is their appearance, I wont go to in to this for it will sound like a shit stand up, but I will highlight the problem briefly as it is actually a truism for all humanity… and the thing is this. A woman always asks for the truth, but they do not mean the truth, they mean “what do you honestly think I want to hear”. And when it comes to personal truth that’s how we all are, we all know the truth, we know were fat and lazy and dreadful and ugly and stupid, but we desperately want to hear a “truth” that tells us otherwise.
So to summarise we have a confusing and twisted view of the truth, we all seek it when we don’t need to, ignore it when its bad and run from it when its ugly. But I think the biggest problem is that truth is purely down to perception, and though it is measurable for something’s it is meaningless for others, and rather than worry about what others think or how society judges us or exactly why we are here, we need to embrace possibly the only real truth of life. We live, then we die, and we get no second chances… So embrace life to its fullest and make as many pie jokes as you possible can.
Fucking hell, I have written some contrite shit in the past but what was that all about, I don’t know I’ve just been at work tapping bollocks away as I am so desperately bored between doing bits of actual work, I’m also tired as anything and not in the jolliest of moods… Ah well, at least I have some good honest as the day is long bollocks written, cor what a load of shite though, and whats with the end, very corny indeed…. Anyway it’s the weekend so who fucking cares, I’ll try and be funny on Monday!
You can follow me on twitter if you want but I am very honest and I will call you a cunt-sniff.
Woe
Today with the advent of the 21st Woe we enter a world of official adulthood and with an air of newfound maturity on today’s Woe we are going to be taking a look at a subject that is hard to define and is sought as hard as it avoided. It is an unfathomable quantity completely created by man, it is definable through perception alone and means something wholly different to everyone who comes in to touch with it. So with no more delay we put on our crumbiest tweed jackets, shine up our leather elbow patches, stroke our goatees with a look of controlled bewilderment and puff jauntily on our pipes as we take a look in the confusing world of… The Truth.
Honestly.
The truth… what is it, who wants to know and why ever would they want to? Its something we all wonder about constantly, even if we don’t know we are doing it, we are… even right now probably. We use it to define ourselves in both our eyes and the eyes of others, it is the self inflicted bench mark of humanity and the cruel thing is not one of us has a bloody clue what it is… ever. We have built our entire society around this principle, and though the search for it remains a catalyst for human endeavour it is also a huge bloody anchor around our necks. By looking for universal truths and meanings we will never be contented with the simple blessing of existence. Looking for the truths of ourselves in terms of origin, for me, is the biggest waste of time ever, for centuries nerdy guys have locked themselves in laboratories using extreme mathematics and algorithms to predict not only the when but the how of the universe itself. By studying rock patterns and lunar projections and hypothesising the size shape and distance of the universe these boin-dexters have wasted their lives looking for a suitable explanation of how it all began, and even after a life time of study and research the answers are little more than over educated guesses. What a futile waste of human brain power and resources and life. If you woke up one morning surrounded by piles of money, would you spend the rest of your life trying to work out where it all came from or would you get straight down to the old coke and hookers department of your nearest John Lewis??? But again the human obsession with truth enthrals these undoubtedly brilliant minds in to wasting the chances they had of making genuine changes in the world. And if we ever did have concrete evidence of what came before us and how it all happened it would probably be a great fucking disappointment like the StarWars prequels, and would make us more depressed then we are now anyway…
But it isn’t just the truth of exactly who and why and what we are that fills the minds of our species we are also obsessed with social truths, the truths that tell us all how to live and behave and judge others. These truths are entirely manmade and are contorted and shaped to society’s trends, but by and large it is the truth that you should be good and work hard. However this area of truth is where it is most confusing.
Society is a great tug-o-war between bullshit and honesty, and more over the bullshit side is pulling honesty through the mud along his face. People by their very nature are bullshitters, which despite how it sounds is not a bad thing. It is the single greatest defence mechanism of mankind and with out the ability to bullshit the world would have been in ruins long ago. Although our egos would like to believe other wise all compromise is the art of bullshit, with out the skill for 2 opposing parties to bullshit to each other all disagreements would result in eventual conflict. All day everyday people live honest lies for the greater good of themselves and the people they love. Be it going to work or taking the kids to school, eating a healthy breakfast even just getting out of bed in itself is a huge mountain of bullshit most days. Life unfortunately for all of us is a series of shitty tasks performed in the faint hope that one day you will be justified in performing them, and by and large that hope is met. But that does nothing to make doing these things any less bullshit and dishonest. The great paradox of the social truth is the more of a lie your life is, the greater the betrayal it is to the things you want to do and the person you are, the more honest it is. Transversely those that are the most honest in society, those that live by their base desires and put the wants of themselves before all else are the most dishonest in society. Sacrifice is made by all decent members of society all the time, a few monetary sacrifices are thrust upon us by the world we live in, like taxes, but the vast majority of sacrifices we make are completely of our own devices. Having kids is a huge sacrifice, as is serious commitment to someone you love, going to work is a sacrifice, getting along with people is more sacrifice, helping others is another, as is asking for help, caring is a sacrifice, making friends is a sacrifice, walking to the shops is an enormous sacrifice, getting on a bus even bigger than that, putting up with people you simply detest for your job or your home is a sacrifice, living in a world which forces you to be part of it and gives you no power to change or speak or do a damn thing about it is a sacrifice… Life is a crappy series of sacrifices all for the benefit a greater good we don’t understand, but in doing so it enables society to strike a balance that works and grows and occasionally shows the faint glimmer of happiness (ok more than occasionally, but it has to sound bad for my long winded analogy to work). But all of the hardships life throws up are controllable through bullshitting, by turning the other cheek and telling yourself it doesn’t matter, by smiling through gritted teeth, by saying hello to your neighbour when all you really want to do is smash their stupid face in for playing fucking techno at 3 in the morning. Without bullshit being an intricate part of who we are society would explode in a sea of anger. By denying our lazy shitty base human desires by effectively lying to ourselves we are able to achieve things and be part of a society which does fail massively in some areas but could be (and we forget this all to often) about 6 trillion times worse. If we all start being honest with society we embrace the bad nature, and one of the worst flaws of man is the fact it takes no effort at all to be a complete shit sack but to be a decent person you have to work unbearably hard all your life, and even then there is no guarantee.
Wow the truth of society is long and boring and my argument is fractured and made poorly, but I’ve written it now and so it stays, plus I sort of almost make a point half way through. Anyway now on the bit about truth we all care about, how much of a putrid waste of skin, bone and shit are you? Yeah it’s the best till last… the everyday personal truth, and where we search drastically for the truths to the great unknowns and are trapped in a paradox by the truths of society when it comes to personal truths we all start running for our lives like extras in a Godzirra (is that racist?) movie!
Shut up, fuck off and don’t judge me… pretty much the rule of today’s world like contestants in a twisted game show we all do our best to hide our ugliness and general ignorance and every other rancid trait we have, and the best way to hide just how appalling we really are? It’s easy, just cover them bad boys in a thick skin of bullshit, and hope for the best. We all lie, from great big whoppers to tiny little white ones, its just every now and again we have a desperate need to fib like a naughty kid. We usually do this out of social inadequacies or to protect ourselves from some hideous embarrassing truth, that if it ever reared its head would have us chased out of society by an angry crowd with pitch forks! Silly lies like this usually get us in the shit eventually and can spiral rapidly out of control and before you know you’re in some farcical Larry David type situation, we all know that kind of lying is either stupid or in some cases plain cuntish. The lies that go with personal truths though are far more interesting, and less hideous and deplorable. Often the truths we wish to hide, especially for men, are the most endearing ones, as for some reason these are seen as signs of potential weakness. Men have to lie about being tough all the time, and it is shit. I had the bad fortune of growing up in a crap town and unfortunately as a result when I was younger I got involved in fights, I have both beaten and been beaten and numerous times when not been involved in some stupid act of mindless violence I have witnessed the horror and the misery it inflicts at close quarters. I can assure any one if they have any doubt that being tough and fighting is completely shit. Nowadays I, like all other sensible people avoid violence at all costs, yet as a big stinking liar of a human, if some one gives me the evil eye when out and about rather than shy away I will stare back with insincere anger… and why, coz I have to be moron… It’s stupid, men especially spend all our time giving each other dead legs and arm wrestling, when the truth is we hate it like crazy! Women on the other hand put up huge walls of bullshit, in ways that baffle and confuse my simple man-mind. The area that women are least honest it appears to me is with their friends, if you put 2 woman together they will gaggle on for hours about any insipid topic you waft in front of them, they will laugh raucously and seem the very bestest of buddies. But the truth is every woman everywhere hates everyone of her friends intently. Another grey area for truth with women is their appearance, I wont go to in to this for it will sound like a shit stand up, but I will highlight the problem briefly as it is actually a truism for all humanity… and the thing is this. A woman always asks for the truth, but they do not mean the truth, they mean “what do you honestly think I want to hear”. And when it comes to personal truth that’s how we all are, we all know the truth, we know were fat and lazy and dreadful and ugly and stupid, but we desperately want to hear a “truth” that tells us otherwise.
So to summarise we have a confusing and twisted view of the truth, we all seek it when we don’t need to, ignore it when its bad and run from it when its ugly. But I think the biggest problem is that truth is purely down to perception, and though it is measurable for something’s it is meaningless for others, and rather than worry about what others think or how society judges us or exactly why we are here, we need to embrace possibly the only real truth of life. We live, then we die, and we get no second chances… So embrace life to its fullest and make as many pie jokes as you possible can.
Fucking hell, I have written some contrite shit in the past but what was that all about, I don’t know I’ve just been at work tapping bollocks away as I am so desperately bored between doing bits of actual work, I’m also tired as anything and not in the jolliest of moods… Ah well, at least I have some good honest as the day is long bollocks written, cor what a load of shite though, and whats with the end, very corny indeed…. Anyway it’s the weekend so who fucking cares, I’ll try and be funny on Monday!
You can follow me on twitter if you want but I am very honest and I will call you a cunt-sniff.
Woe
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
NewsOfTheWoe-rld
Well once more here we are… same old shit just another day, I say some bollocks about stuff, you read it blah blah blah, how predictable and boring! Honestly I might as well just smear bogies across a computer screen for all it actually matters, I mean really why does anyone do anything ever, we’re only going to die one day anyway so what’s the bloody point… well I’ll tell you the point me laddo, coz its better than fucking working… so holla at me dawg… It’s the 20th Aldershot Woe.
God 20 already, where does the time go ay, its seems like just yesterday this blog was in its infancy, making all sorts of mistakes, shooting wild theories off like a mad tramp, nothing researched or based on any sort of fact, and now look at it… Nothing has changed at all, well it’s about time I grew up a bit and started writing about real topics, not just “holidays” or “fat kids” but real, cutting, hard edged, in your face, on the pulse, in the news topics… So please join me as we put on our greyest suits, use our finest public speaking voice and adopt a stern but approachable look as we enter the world of… NEWS
Here’s the thing with news, it’s almost always bad, just a simple look at the days newspapers is enough to make you want to cut your own throat (or have a wank if it’s the Star) a brief perusal of the headlines on televised news has us all reaching for the cyanide capsules and if we have the bollocks to go on line to read the very newest news we may well die out of the shock of knowing that we could well die of nuclear-cancer-immigrant-terrorist-celeb-AIDS before we even have a chance to tie a rope round our neck and go with a bit of dignity…
But news isn’t always bad is it, I get good news occasionally and I would definitely say I smile a hell of a lot more than I cry, and I live in Aldershot, the devils rectum so why is no one delivering this good news to the nation? Why is the top story never about how were all going to live 40 years longer than our grandparents did, or how a stranger helped another stranger in a precarious situation, or how it was a nice day, or how good it is to have freedom of speech, why do we not celebrate how good we have it? I mean life has it’s shittyness in abundance it has its unavoidable miseries, its heartbreaks and tragedies so why do we force this extra misery upon ourselves in daily doses of news? I mean I would be happy if the news just took a glass half filled approach to reporting its daily gloom “A bus full of young nuns crashed today in to an orphanage, leaving 100 people dead, but hey, fifty nine million nine hundred and ninety thousand and nine hundred people were completely unharmed by it in the UK alone, so its not all doom and despair”… would a little positive spin hurt them???
A lot of people believe that the constant bad news dumped on us by the all powerful media bodies is some sort of elitist conspiracy, to keep us all in order by keeping us too scared to do anything at all apart from stare at the latest death toll on Skynews.com whilst constantly hitting F5 and praying that our meager souls are not part of the refreshed death-list appearing on our laptop screens. Well it’s a theory I suppose, and when you hear Marilyn Manson droll through this theory in a monotonous all-knowing tone as he does in Michael Moores film “Bowling for Columbine” it’s quite a convincing one. But a few things bother me about that, firstly its Marilyn Manson who is saying it, now I have nothing against the extroverted singer, not my cup of tea (the kind of stuff is like Kryptonite to my funksouljazz heart) but I think the guy is cool enough is his own way as an artist. I have a problem with it because the guy was like a gizzilionaire long before he was even 30, so what the hell does he know about the conditioning and respective mind state of the common man, not a great deal… I mean seriously what’s Marilyn Manson’s biggest problem on a day to day basis “Damn it, I wanted my Bentley painted murder black and they have sprayed it plague black!!” The other problem I have with the sincere sounding condemnation of the media by Manson is he is talking to Michael fucking Moore! I mean for (anti) Christ’s sake that’s one of the biggest douche bags on the planet, and to make matters worse he is a guy that has made a career out of embellishing bad news and horror by using scaremongering knee-jerk reactionary tactics… I read one of his books (actually I have read 2 of his books but I don’t like to admit it) and he just rants for hours and prints lies (nothing like this blog)… he dedicates a whole chapter of a book to how Germany hasn’t paid for the war yet, what a cock… the guys a fucking loonytune. But I only mention that interview as it gets quoted and sampled a lot, but the theory of using media bred fear to control the masses of the western world is a popular one… But I do not buy that for a second. I really don’t see how a populous with shot nerves, advanced paranoia and a feeling of impending doom is going to be easier to control than one that is content with the status quo. I also do not buy in to the theory that the scared public will want to spend more and that the harbingers of plight that are our daily news outlets are really the dark heart of consumerism, I mean sure if their was a sudden surge in weapons, pro plus pills, tinned foods and jars for bottling urine, then I would see the direct results of a fear led spending spree… but come on, people buy tat because its there and they can, and we are, lets be honest, greedy and competitive by our nature. I don’t think it’s really fair to blame the ills of humanity on some elitist media induced conspiracy, we are just a bit shit.
That same shitness is fused to humanities DNA and is, I think, the real reason we crave and bask in the nastiness and misery of the world. We don’t have news crammed down our throats as many complain we do, we simply love knowing the latest and murkiest information the world has to offer. That is the reason we stalk online news sites and 24 hour news channels, and buy newspapers everyday, it is not because we have been programmed out of fear to seek and absorb the news, it is plain and simple Schadenfreude, a part of our minds loves to hear bad news... Its open to debate the reason why this is, it could be out of empathy, or it could be the satisfaction of knowing “at least someone’s having a shitter life than me” who knows, all we do know is it is there, gawping at bad news like no chinned do-as-you-likey at the scene of an accident.
News has simply grown around this human trait and commercially exploited this to its own gain. They are catering to a human need, not brain-washing people to obey the overlords or do the bidding of the Illuminati, people simply want bad news. And the reason for so many outlets in today’s society is because different choices need to be catered for, as different people want different bad news. People who read the Mail want to be outraged and angered, by the lesbian midget immigrants who use OUR tax money to open up brothels made out of drugs in school playgrounds. People who read the Independent want to know that the earth will be destroyed by green house gasses and melting icecaps and that unless we all recycle everything right now and use electric cars and green light bulbs then we will all be dead by tomorrow. We can’t blame the media for exploiting our want for misery no more than you can blame the Simpsons for exploiting our want to laugh. Unfortunately people just like bad news, that’s why people gossip and twitch at their windows when the police vans turn up to arrest drug dealers or abusive husbands (maybe just my estate then?) we all bathe in misery and scrub ourselves with the soap of despair and we always will, so news will never be happy or cheery. And if they ever did “good news” you’d end up with a load of shite, (not directly referring to matey from Mock The Weeks show on BBC3, but its true) who wants to hear about the happiness other people are enjoying, especially when you’re stuck at work and poor and angry and miserable and its probably all someone else’s bastard fault? No one that’s who, so happy people fuck off and comeback when you lose a limb or have some morbid negativity to share with the rest of us…
Right then, that was all about news, rather than the news which I think I said I was going to do, ah well, who cares I think I made a point and managed to get some bad news in there, we’re all morbid and shit just because were morbid and shit, its not coz some rich overlord has made us that way… hahahahaha!
Anyway that wraps up the 20th Aldershot Woe, or the A-Dubz as they call it on da street, and if you have just read it you will no doubt have a tale of misery and wretchedness and despair to pass on to the next person you see…
You can follow me on Twitter if you like, but scientists have just revealed that using the popular networking site makes you 50 times more likely to be a terrorist immigrant with cancer and cellulite, plus Twitter melts icecaps and kills baby seals.
Woe
God 20 already, where does the time go ay, its seems like just yesterday this blog was in its infancy, making all sorts of mistakes, shooting wild theories off like a mad tramp, nothing researched or based on any sort of fact, and now look at it… Nothing has changed at all, well it’s about time I grew up a bit and started writing about real topics, not just “holidays” or “fat kids” but real, cutting, hard edged, in your face, on the pulse, in the news topics… So please join me as we put on our greyest suits, use our finest public speaking voice and adopt a stern but approachable look as we enter the world of… NEWS
Here’s the thing with news, it’s almost always bad, just a simple look at the days newspapers is enough to make you want to cut your own throat (or have a wank if it’s the Star) a brief perusal of the headlines on televised news has us all reaching for the cyanide capsules and if we have the bollocks to go on line to read the very newest news we may well die out of the shock of knowing that we could well die of nuclear-cancer-immigrant-terrorist-celeb-AIDS before we even have a chance to tie a rope round our neck and go with a bit of dignity…
But news isn’t always bad is it, I get good news occasionally and I would definitely say I smile a hell of a lot more than I cry, and I live in Aldershot, the devils rectum so why is no one delivering this good news to the nation? Why is the top story never about how were all going to live 40 years longer than our grandparents did, or how a stranger helped another stranger in a precarious situation, or how it was a nice day, or how good it is to have freedom of speech, why do we not celebrate how good we have it? I mean life has it’s shittyness in abundance it has its unavoidable miseries, its heartbreaks and tragedies so why do we force this extra misery upon ourselves in daily doses of news? I mean I would be happy if the news just took a glass half filled approach to reporting its daily gloom “A bus full of young nuns crashed today in to an orphanage, leaving 100 people dead, but hey, fifty nine million nine hundred and ninety thousand and nine hundred people were completely unharmed by it in the UK alone, so its not all doom and despair”… would a little positive spin hurt them???
A lot of people believe that the constant bad news dumped on us by the all powerful media bodies is some sort of elitist conspiracy, to keep us all in order by keeping us too scared to do anything at all apart from stare at the latest death toll on Skynews.com whilst constantly hitting F5 and praying that our meager souls are not part of the refreshed death-list appearing on our laptop screens. Well it’s a theory I suppose, and when you hear Marilyn Manson droll through this theory in a monotonous all-knowing tone as he does in Michael Moores film “Bowling for Columbine” it’s quite a convincing one. But a few things bother me about that, firstly its Marilyn Manson who is saying it, now I have nothing against the extroverted singer, not my cup of tea (the kind of stuff is like Kryptonite to my funksouljazz heart) but I think the guy is cool enough is his own way as an artist. I have a problem with it because the guy was like a gizzilionaire long before he was even 30, so what the hell does he know about the conditioning and respective mind state of the common man, not a great deal… I mean seriously what’s Marilyn Manson’s biggest problem on a day to day basis “Damn it, I wanted my Bentley painted murder black and they have sprayed it plague black!!” The other problem I have with the sincere sounding condemnation of the media by Manson is he is talking to Michael fucking Moore! I mean for (anti) Christ’s sake that’s one of the biggest douche bags on the planet, and to make matters worse he is a guy that has made a career out of embellishing bad news and horror by using scaremongering knee-jerk reactionary tactics… I read one of his books (actually I have read 2 of his books but I don’t like to admit it) and he just rants for hours and prints lies (nothing like this blog)… he dedicates a whole chapter of a book to how Germany hasn’t paid for the war yet, what a cock… the guys a fucking loonytune. But I only mention that interview as it gets quoted and sampled a lot, but the theory of using media bred fear to control the masses of the western world is a popular one… But I do not buy that for a second. I really don’t see how a populous with shot nerves, advanced paranoia and a feeling of impending doom is going to be easier to control than one that is content with the status quo. I also do not buy in to the theory that the scared public will want to spend more and that the harbingers of plight that are our daily news outlets are really the dark heart of consumerism, I mean sure if their was a sudden surge in weapons, pro plus pills, tinned foods and jars for bottling urine, then I would see the direct results of a fear led spending spree… but come on, people buy tat because its there and they can, and we are, lets be honest, greedy and competitive by our nature. I don’t think it’s really fair to blame the ills of humanity on some elitist media induced conspiracy, we are just a bit shit.
That same shitness is fused to humanities DNA and is, I think, the real reason we crave and bask in the nastiness and misery of the world. We don’t have news crammed down our throats as many complain we do, we simply love knowing the latest and murkiest information the world has to offer. That is the reason we stalk online news sites and 24 hour news channels, and buy newspapers everyday, it is not because we have been programmed out of fear to seek and absorb the news, it is plain and simple Schadenfreude, a part of our minds loves to hear bad news... Its open to debate the reason why this is, it could be out of empathy, or it could be the satisfaction of knowing “at least someone’s having a shitter life than me” who knows, all we do know is it is there, gawping at bad news like no chinned do-as-you-likey at the scene of an accident.
News has simply grown around this human trait and commercially exploited this to its own gain. They are catering to a human need, not brain-washing people to obey the overlords or do the bidding of the Illuminati, people simply want bad news. And the reason for so many outlets in today’s society is because different choices need to be catered for, as different people want different bad news. People who read the Mail want to be outraged and angered, by the lesbian midget immigrants who use OUR tax money to open up brothels made out of drugs in school playgrounds. People who read the Independent want to know that the earth will be destroyed by green house gasses and melting icecaps and that unless we all recycle everything right now and use electric cars and green light bulbs then we will all be dead by tomorrow. We can’t blame the media for exploiting our want for misery no more than you can blame the Simpsons for exploiting our want to laugh. Unfortunately people just like bad news, that’s why people gossip and twitch at their windows when the police vans turn up to arrest drug dealers or abusive husbands (maybe just my estate then?) we all bathe in misery and scrub ourselves with the soap of despair and we always will, so news will never be happy or cheery. And if they ever did “good news” you’d end up with a load of shite, (not directly referring to matey from Mock The Weeks show on BBC3, but its true) who wants to hear about the happiness other people are enjoying, especially when you’re stuck at work and poor and angry and miserable and its probably all someone else’s bastard fault? No one that’s who, so happy people fuck off and comeback when you lose a limb or have some morbid negativity to share with the rest of us…
Right then, that was all about news, rather than the news which I think I said I was going to do, ah well, who cares I think I made a point and managed to get some bad news in there, we’re all morbid and shit just because were morbid and shit, its not coz some rich overlord has made us that way… hahahahaha!
Anyway that wraps up the 20th Aldershot Woe, or the A-Dubz as they call it on da street, and if you have just read it you will no doubt have a tale of misery and wretchedness and despair to pass on to the next person you see…
You can follow me on Twitter if you like, but scientists have just revealed that using the popular networking site makes you 50 times more likely to be a terrorist immigrant with cancer and cellulite, plus Twitter melts icecaps and kills baby seals.
Woe
Monday, 5 July 2010
GetAway
Well then, here we are, Monday… again! Someone much smarter and funnier than me once commented that Mondays are a dreadful way to spend a seventh of your life… and who ever it was who said that was right, and now just to make things worse I open the doors to the 19th edition of the Aldershot Woes, a blog that is so consistently dreadful it has labelled me the Phil McNulty of Comedy Blogs…
But much like our proud Lions, even in the face of mounting criticism after a string of dreadful performances, I refuse to say sorry and carry on regardless of how much of an absolute shit I am, it is the new English way (ok maybe not that new). But as we now look towards the Semi Finals in the aftermath of some true World Cup greatness we can finally wash our hands of the English performance, that was last week this is this week, until next week when it becomes last week or last week when it was next week, but right now it is now all the way up until its then, which isn’t for some time now. And with that in mind I welcome you all to slap on some factor 50, roll up your trouser legs and paddle playfully through the exciting and often controversial world of… Holidays!
Its that time again, you have been saving for the last year putting away every penny you can, making sacrifice after sacrifice all for this, 2 weeks of uninterrupted nothingness! Bliss… You have booked the time off work, you have tirelessly and relentlessly planned every little detail. Like an SAS mission every last action and occurrence is taken in to consideration and back up plan after back up plan is painstakingly thrashed out and committed to memory. With everyday that passes the hollow empty misery of your life bears down on you with more force, which only serves to strengthen and compress your resolve, nothing can stop you, not even god himself, your time is nigh the wait is almost over, your going on Holiday!
To the airport or the open road, be it by air, sea or land you are on your way… No stress of work, no regular shitty boring bollocks of a life, no more shit to deal with, no more you, not shitty bollocks work and life you anyway, this is holiday awesome fun-time mega you… the best you there is! Like a full moon to a werewolf the beaming light of the holiday transforms you in to a selfish unrelenting party-goer, or a methodical chill machine that even in the midst of a full scale rabid monkey attack would not break the unyielding meditation of relaxing, “huh, what rabid monkeys, oh they’ll leave when they get bored, now stop screaming and bleeding would you, I have read that last sentence three times already”.
HOLIDAY- whoop-whoop!!!…
Be it raving our tits off in Ibiza, fishing by some idyllic lake in the highlands or just sitting by a pool reading a pile of books for 2 weeks sipping cocktails and bronzing our skin with care free abandonment playing a game of cat and mouse with melanoma, everybody seems to love the annual get-away and recharge… Everybody except me that is, as I am a grumpy bastard, or perhaps I am the only sane person left on the planet! (I’m going grumpy theory personally).
Holidays are shit, simple as that really, but unlike the England team I will put up some form of defence for my argument (breathe deeply, let it go man….). As a kid I had holidays, but not like any holidays that my mates had. All my friends went to Spain or the South of France or Disney World or some other exotic fun filled mystery land a billion miles away from the mundane mind thump of the grey pavements and shitty brick buildings and predictable lamp posts and grassy patches of mine and every one else’s shitty estates. And those that didn’t jet-away to distant sun kissed lands of wonder and come back with colour in their usually pasty cheeks and awesome stories and t-shirts in foreign languages, went to places like Butlins or Pontins or other family orientated mad-factories, where they got to play in swimming pools all day whilst their parents got drunk as judges and let them basically do what they want for 2 weeks, resulting in them coming back home and regaling me with tales of frenchying northern girls and underage drinking. Lucky Bastards all of them… they all stayed in hotels or chalets and had meals from restaurants and went to discos and did all manner of awesome naughty shit, which they never got in trouble for as they were on holiday! But mine was a different fate, as I had to endure the hell of never ending zips and swishes and gas stoves and bad backs and cold shivery nights and insect bites and all the other hellish sacks of spunk that go with Camping… Camping, fucking child cruelty is what it is!
Here’s the thing about camping when you are young it is actually pretty cool, the thrill of the great outdoors and all that bollocks, and when you are 8 years old and knives and fires are really cool, camping does rock hard, but come on, your 8 what the fuck do you know? As every year passes camping gets lamer and lamer until you get to about 13 and it is truly unbearable. And that’s not just because you have found a new way of getting the most out of spending time alone and a crowded tent is hindering that, it’s because of everything, the grubbiness, the coldness the bad back and above all the gut wrenching embarrassment of being stuck in a fucking tent. Something not helped by the condescending looks of pricks in caravans, with fucking TVs and mattresses, what a shower of bastards those guys are. But as I said at a certain age camping is OK, and for some people that childish appeal stays and they continue to camp through out there lives. Just so your clear my dad never took us camping because of any sentimental reasons, it was coz it were cheap. Now I am sure there are a bunch of people who go to nice campsites and spend their days on beaches and have a great barrel of fun, well I never… we’d go to dreadful places on top of hills and look at other hills and dry stone walls and nature, god nature is great fucking bore when your young, and we’d walk, by god we’d walk… my old man loves walking it was a genuine hobby of his, they call it Challenge Walking, and you basically just walk in a great big fecking circle, usually for 100KM. And in his wisdom my dad thought that he would have his family partake in this for there holidays… So there you go I had about 15 years of walking, looking at hills and nature and sleeping in a cold tent waking up shivering and miserable and returning home after 2 weeks suffering from exhaustion, looking generally unhealthy and walking like a 97 year old. Happy fucking days indeed. Now to be fair we did occasionally go to a beach and have regular people fun, but even that was a drawn out curse, my dad hates paying for parking, it goes against all of his inbuilt skin-flint principals, to my dad the thought of a good free parking spot is better than anything else in the world. As a result of my dads unnatural hatred of paid-for parking, when we did get to go to the beach, we would park about 5 miles away, and would be frog marched down to the beach, yet further embarrassment for me as we struggled for miles laden with cool-boxes, inflatable’s, blankets, buckets, spades and all the other tat you NEED for a day at the shitting beach… So by the time we had marched down to the beach and we were too knackered to do anything anyway. But once you have rested, eaten a warm ham sandwich and spent the remainder of the day either looking moody and aloof if you are a young teenager or by digging a huge fricking hole if you are not quite a teenager, you have to pack up and do the LONG trek back to the car carrying all the shit you carried down, back up again, but this time with the addition to sand eroding away at your thighs. God what a hell it was.
Now you may be saying that I am bitter against all forms of holiday just because of the vast cack I had to deal with on my holidays as a nipper, well so what if I am, holidays are still shit. As I am grown up now soon I will have to start organising my own family holidays and I am petrified. Luckily right now my kids are too young to bring on holiday, but that won’t last forever, soon I am going to have to take them on holiday and here is what scares me about that. When I was young I wanted to go to places like Butlins and Pontins and that sort of thing, but now the idea of it makes me want to vomit my skull out of my head. I couldn’t stand it, I would want to kill everyone I would hate it. And as for Disneyland I would genuinely want to commit Harikari if I had to go anywhere near the magic kingdom, and despite wanting to right the wrongs of my holiday hells, I will be fucked if I take my kids to any of them places (sorry guys, why am I apologising, you can’t read yet?). And the thought of being in charge and taking 3 kids on a plane and having to shout at them non-stop, god spare me… Plus I doubt very much I could afford such an exotic holiday, unless I became one of those people who saves up all year long, and I’m not one of them people, as holidays are shit.
So in a couple of years when the kids are old enough just where will I take them? Well the truth is this… I’ll take them camping, it’s cheap as anything and for the few years it’ll be an adventure for them. We’ll go to the beach mind, but I’ll be ballsed if I am paying for parking… Right now though I take my holiday and I go nowhere but home, I spend a week or so slobbing about, watching telly, playing with the kids, and being as lazy as I can (which is nowhere near as lazy as I’d like to be). If it were up to me, I’d keep holidays like this forever… I really couldn’t be happier.
Well, aren’t I miserable fucker, what was the point in all that, I’m not even going on holiday so I don’t know what I’m all whinged up about, ah well… I actually haven’t been on holiday for nearly 10 years now, and if I did go I’d probably have a smashing time, but if you want a cheery read about lovely getaways go read Judith fucking Chalmers blog… Holidays, grrrrrrrrr….
And with that gritted harrumph at holidays we rap up the teenage years of the Aldershot Woes, what will the 20th Woe bring, I never really know till I start writing, but one things for sure it will be an embarrassment to all who speak English. As ever I’m sorry.
You can’t follow me on Twitter as I am on holiday, it’s a cosy eternal get away from all forms of social networking called life.
Woe.
But much like our proud Lions, even in the face of mounting criticism after a string of dreadful performances, I refuse to say sorry and carry on regardless of how much of an absolute shit I am, it is the new English way (ok maybe not that new). But as we now look towards the Semi Finals in the aftermath of some true World Cup greatness we can finally wash our hands of the English performance, that was last week this is this week, until next week when it becomes last week or last week when it was next week, but right now it is now all the way up until its then, which isn’t for some time now. And with that in mind I welcome you all to slap on some factor 50, roll up your trouser legs and paddle playfully through the exciting and often controversial world of… Holidays!
Its that time again, you have been saving for the last year putting away every penny you can, making sacrifice after sacrifice all for this, 2 weeks of uninterrupted nothingness! Bliss… You have booked the time off work, you have tirelessly and relentlessly planned every little detail. Like an SAS mission every last action and occurrence is taken in to consideration and back up plan after back up plan is painstakingly thrashed out and committed to memory. With everyday that passes the hollow empty misery of your life bears down on you with more force, which only serves to strengthen and compress your resolve, nothing can stop you, not even god himself, your time is nigh the wait is almost over, your going on Holiday!
To the airport or the open road, be it by air, sea or land you are on your way… No stress of work, no regular shitty boring bollocks of a life, no more shit to deal with, no more you, not shitty bollocks work and life you anyway, this is holiday awesome fun-time mega you… the best you there is! Like a full moon to a werewolf the beaming light of the holiday transforms you in to a selfish unrelenting party-goer, or a methodical chill machine that even in the midst of a full scale rabid monkey attack would not break the unyielding meditation of relaxing, “huh, what rabid monkeys, oh they’ll leave when they get bored, now stop screaming and bleeding would you, I have read that last sentence three times already”.
HOLIDAY- whoop-whoop!!!…
Be it raving our tits off in Ibiza, fishing by some idyllic lake in the highlands or just sitting by a pool reading a pile of books for 2 weeks sipping cocktails and bronzing our skin with care free abandonment playing a game of cat and mouse with melanoma, everybody seems to love the annual get-away and recharge… Everybody except me that is, as I am a grumpy bastard, or perhaps I am the only sane person left on the planet! (I’m going grumpy theory personally).
Holidays are shit, simple as that really, but unlike the England team I will put up some form of defence for my argument (breathe deeply, let it go man….). As a kid I had holidays, but not like any holidays that my mates had. All my friends went to Spain or the South of France or Disney World or some other exotic fun filled mystery land a billion miles away from the mundane mind thump of the grey pavements and shitty brick buildings and predictable lamp posts and grassy patches of mine and every one else’s shitty estates. And those that didn’t jet-away to distant sun kissed lands of wonder and come back with colour in their usually pasty cheeks and awesome stories and t-shirts in foreign languages, went to places like Butlins or Pontins or other family orientated mad-factories, where they got to play in swimming pools all day whilst their parents got drunk as judges and let them basically do what they want for 2 weeks, resulting in them coming back home and regaling me with tales of frenchying northern girls and underage drinking. Lucky Bastards all of them… they all stayed in hotels or chalets and had meals from restaurants and went to discos and did all manner of awesome naughty shit, which they never got in trouble for as they were on holiday! But mine was a different fate, as I had to endure the hell of never ending zips and swishes and gas stoves and bad backs and cold shivery nights and insect bites and all the other hellish sacks of spunk that go with Camping… Camping, fucking child cruelty is what it is!
Here’s the thing about camping when you are young it is actually pretty cool, the thrill of the great outdoors and all that bollocks, and when you are 8 years old and knives and fires are really cool, camping does rock hard, but come on, your 8 what the fuck do you know? As every year passes camping gets lamer and lamer until you get to about 13 and it is truly unbearable. And that’s not just because you have found a new way of getting the most out of spending time alone and a crowded tent is hindering that, it’s because of everything, the grubbiness, the coldness the bad back and above all the gut wrenching embarrassment of being stuck in a fucking tent. Something not helped by the condescending looks of pricks in caravans, with fucking TVs and mattresses, what a shower of bastards those guys are. But as I said at a certain age camping is OK, and for some people that childish appeal stays and they continue to camp through out there lives. Just so your clear my dad never took us camping because of any sentimental reasons, it was coz it were cheap. Now I am sure there are a bunch of people who go to nice campsites and spend their days on beaches and have a great barrel of fun, well I never… we’d go to dreadful places on top of hills and look at other hills and dry stone walls and nature, god nature is great fucking bore when your young, and we’d walk, by god we’d walk… my old man loves walking it was a genuine hobby of his, they call it Challenge Walking, and you basically just walk in a great big fecking circle, usually for 100KM. And in his wisdom my dad thought that he would have his family partake in this for there holidays… So there you go I had about 15 years of walking, looking at hills and nature and sleeping in a cold tent waking up shivering and miserable and returning home after 2 weeks suffering from exhaustion, looking generally unhealthy and walking like a 97 year old. Happy fucking days indeed. Now to be fair we did occasionally go to a beach and have regular people fun, but even that was a drawn out curse, my dad hates paying for parking, it goes against all of his inbuilt skin-flint principals, to my dad the thought of a good free parking spot is better than anything else in the world. As a result of my dads unnatural hatred of paid-for parking, when we did get to go to the beach, we would park about 5 miles away, and would be frog marched down to the beach, yet further embarrassment for me as we struggled for miles laden with cool-boxes, inflatable’s, blankets, buckets, spades and all the other tat you NEED for a day at the shitting beach… So by the time we had marched down to the beach and we were too knackered to do anything anyway. But once you have rested, eaten a warm ham sandwich and spent the remainder of the day either looking moody and aloof if you are a young teenager or by digging a huge fricking hole if you are not quite a teenager, you have to pack up and do the LONG trek back to the car carrying all the shit you carried down, back up again, but this time with the addition to sand eroding away at your thighs. God what a hell it was.
Now you may be saying that I am bitter against all forms of holiday just because of the vast cack I had to deal with on my holidays as a nipper, well so what if I am, holidays are still shit. As I am grown up now soon I will have to start organising my own family holidays and I am petrified. Luckily right now my kids are too young to bring on holiday, but that won’t last forever, soon I am going to have to take them on holiday and here is what scares me about that. When I was young I wanted to go to places like Butlins and Pontins and that sort of thing, but now the idea of it makes me want to vomit my skull out of my head. I couldn’t stand it, I would want to kill everyone I would hate it. And as for Disneyland I would genuinely want to commit Harikari if I had to go anywhere near the magic kingdom, and despite wanting to right the wrongs of my holiday hells, I will be fucked if I take my kids to any of them places (sorry guys, why am I apologising, you can’t read yet?). And the thought of being in charge and taking 3 kids on a plane and having to shout at them non-stop, god spare me… Plus I doubt very much I could afford such an exotic holiday, unless I became one of those people who saves up all year long, and I’m not one of them people, as holidays are shit.
So in a couple of years when the kids are old enough just where will I take them? Well the truth is this… I’ll take them camping, it’s cheap as anything and for the few years it’ll be an adventure for them. We’ll go to the beach mind, but I’ll be ballsed if I am paying for parking… Right now though I take my holiday and I go nowhere but home, I spend a week or so slobbing about, watching telly, playing with the kids, and being as lazy as I can (which is nowhere near as lazy as I’d like to be). If it were up to me, I’d keep holidays like this forever… I really couldn’t be happier.
Well, aren’t I miserable fucker, what was the point in all that, I’m not even going on holiday so I don’t know what I’m all whinged up about, ah well… I actually haven’t been on holiday for nearly 10 years now, and if I did go I’d probably have a smashing time, but if you want a cheery read about lovely getaways go read Judith fucking Chalmers blog… Holidays, grrrrrrrrr….
And with that gritted harrumph at holidays we rap up the teenage years of the Aldershot Woes, what will the 20th Woe bring, I never really know till I start writing, but one things for sure it will be an embarrassment to all who speak English. As ever I’m sorry.
You can’t follow me on Twitter as I am on holiday, it’s a cosy eternal get away from all forms of social networking called life.
Woe.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
FAT
Are you experiencing a sudden head ache, a sense of confusion and bewilderment, your mouth filled with the taste of stale fags, flat beer and ignorance, are your eyes strained in desperation, trying to make sense of the utter nonsense surrounding you, do you feel lost, lonely and sad, do you just wanna give up, lie on the sofa and watch Jeremy Kyle whilst sobbing desperately at the mind thumping ignorance of the world and the wrongs that are committed in it daily? If so you have probably just walked through the door marked “Episode 18 of the Aldershot Woes”. Welcome…
When I started writing this sporadic mind guff it was with the honest intention of wasting time at work, but I still had a faint hope that eventually a clear or at least semi-cohesive body of work would be the end result, well after 17 Woes I see that is not going to happen, but just because I’m making a great bollocks of things, I don’t see that as reason enough to hang up my keyboard and give up. I mean, George Dubbya didn’t just give up, Mugabe hasn’t just given up, Titus Bramble hasn’t given up, no matter how much of a badgers cock you make of something you have to see it through to the bitter end. The antithesis of this attitude was recently highlighted by a group of sportsmen, who despite being amongst the top paid of their sport decided to give up when the chips were down, and I am heart broken to reveal that these “men” were English… Where has it all gone wrong with the young men of this country, well let me top up your brain boxes with a few gallons of know-juice… With no further delay I invite you to cram your mouth with chocy biscuits and burgers as we wobble breathlessly through the world of…. Fat Kids.
I was recently at a toddler group with my youngest daughter it was filled with kids ranging from 1 years old up to around 4. On one hand I was a very proud father seeing my little girl interact boldly with the bigger kids (she’s 15 months) and run around clapping her hands and screaming with glee and doing all the things that kids do at that age with the furore and gumption of an innocent mind not yet crippled by the unyielding futility of life (were gonna wait till she’s nearer to three till we fill her in on that). But on the other hand I found my self cringing with disgust at the flabby blobules of meaty fat kids filling the room, whinging for crisps and chocolate, and huffing with indignation at the prospect of having to be active for another 20 minutes, as they needed their McDonalds NOW! “But Mummy (wheeze) I’m hungry now (wheeze), I my Nuggets mummy (wheeze) I my nuggets”. Now rather than the firm rejection and subsequent humiliation I rain down upon my eldest when she makes similar requests in vein, these spineless mothers were kowtowing to there children like they were chubby little dictators. I was sickened. “Just a minute more snookems, then Nuggets, m’kay hun, have a choccy till we get to McDonalds?”
It wasn’t just the abject disregard for their children’s health I found so utterly sickening and the spineless attitude of these cowering mums, the worst thing was having to look at these wobbling lumps of child, there eyes pushed back to the recesses of there skulls by the waves of fat flowing from their chubby faces. The excess flubbers of meat ballooning out of every fold of clothing, as their grotesque limbs swelled beneath the clothes they were probably greased and squeezed in to daily, “It says 2-3years on the label, Mothercare always come up too small”… No, your kid is fat.
I understand that this is a truly monstrous and deplorable way of describing innocent kids, whose only crime is having lazy parents and no dietary boundaries, but they made me feel genuinely ill-at-ease and more than a little queasy. I suppose it’s a mixture of seeing these freakish butterball babies looking like ghastly swollen caricatures of real people twinned with the gut wrenching sadness that for these poor bastards a life of lethargy, heart disease and ridicule awaits them, and all because mummy says the world is a too scary place to play out in, and can’t stand the idea of a child’s brief hatred as they wallow in the misery of a non-greasy lunch… with no free toy! Oh snookems.
The worst thing about it all was the sheer number of them, they were close to being the majority of the kids, I would hazard a guess that at least 40% were tubby toddlers. However something that did strike me was that the fatty little lardy kids didn’t all have chunk-o-rifick parents, so the old scapegoat and mantra for the fatty “It’s in my DNA” can’t be chanted any more… However this chubby little escapade of mine was just the tip of the husky ice berg, I mean at least the kids here had parents willing to leave the house and do something with there round shiny off-spring… I know there are far worse out there!
Like an explosion in a Play Doe factory, fat blubbery lumps of youth litter our schools, kids are fatter today than ever before and as my excursion to the toddler group showed me, it’s a problem getting bigger by the generation. I am relatively young (late 20s) so it wasn’t that long ago I was at school failing my GCSEs, in my school I had about 200 kids in my year, and out of that there were only a handful of chumba-wumbas, I would say 6 maximum, which boils down to about 3%, not a great deal. Only eleven years ago fat kids stood out like huge bulbous thumbs and were mocked horrendously for being big and fat. Its cruel, but that’s kids for you, a pure but necessary evil. Now though, as I walk to work in the mornings I see dozens of plump little porkers being squeezed in to the backs of cars, as mums and dads try desperately to close the door with the little bloaters completely inside the vehicle, it’s like watching a cartoon woman pack a suitcase. I live on a very busy estate and it’s primarily young families that fill the flats of its landscape, so there are hundreds of kids about, always, and the majority are massive little porkers. And as with the chinless mums with the multi-chinned toddlers, the parents of these quivering jelly lumps appear to do all they can to fuel the fatty fires of festering flumpyness. The family in the bottom flat of my block is a single mum, with three porky blimp-like children and they do nothing these kids, I saw them return from shopping the other day and as they wobbled out the car and breathlessly heaved themselves to their front door, the mum was busy unloading the shopping and came struggling towards the door laden with about 50 shopping bags… I mean for gods sake, I doubt very much the three bags consisting solely of pop-tarts and cream cakes were for her?
More and more we are becoming a nation of oversized under-achievers, and we are the ones to blame. I have three kids and as a parent it is my responsibility to see that they are healthy as much as it is to see they are educated, but all over I see this most basic of parental requirements left wanting. And the result is a nation of lazy, chubbo blobs, who expect life served up in great platefuls with a boat load of extra gravy on the side to wash it down with. We are breeding ourselves for extinction, heart disease will be to the human race what that great meteor was to the dinosaurs. With out trying to sound too sensational, if we don’t make a serious change right NOW, it is the end for all human life, and then whose gonna take over? The Dolphins… is that what you really want???
Well then fat kids, what a fucking nitemare, it’s almost certainly not as bad as I say it is, but kids are getting fatter I have no doubt. And they are just awful to look at, whats worse is when you’re with one of their parents and you have to try and hide your repulsion behind an absolute lie of a compliment… “So, your Toby’s got a large, err, personality??”
Honestly though I couldn’t care how fat kids are as long as mine aren’t, the more kids that are losers in there classes as they get older the higher up the school social order they’ll be, so really it’s a good thing… And on that bacon scented note I end this the 18th Aldershot Woe, which was all really just an embellished, illiterate rant laughing at kids who are going to have a hard enough time anyway… Hahaha…
You can’t follow me on twitter coz your stubby fat fingers are to big for a standard keyboard.
Woe (wheeze)
When I started writing this sporadic mind guff it was with the honest intention of wasting time at work, but I still had a faint hope that eventually a clear or at least semi-cohesive body of work would be the end result, well after 17 Woes I see that is not going to happen, but just because I’m making a great bollocks of things, I don’t see that as reason enough to hang up my keyboard and give up. I mean, George Dubbya didn’t just give up, Mugabe hasn’t just given up, Titus Bramble hasn’t given up, no matter how much of a badgers cock you make of something you have to see it through to the bitter end. The antithesis of this attitude was recently highlighted by a group of sportsmen, who despite being amongst the top paid of their sport decided to give up when the chips were down, and I am heart broken to reveal that these “men” were English… Where has it all gone wrong with the young men of this country, well let me top up your brain boxes with a few gallons of know-juice… With no further delay I invite you to cram your mouth with chocy biscuits and burgers as we wobble breathlessly through the world of…. Fat Kids.
I was recently at a toddler group with my youngest daughter it was filled with kids ranging from 1 years old up to around 4. On one hand I was a very proud father seeing my little girl interact boldly with the bigger kids (she’s 15 months) and run around clapping her hands and screaming with glee and doing all the things that kids do at that age with the furore and gumption of an innocent mind not yet crippled by the unyielding futility of life (were gonna wait till she’s nearer to three till we fill her in on that). But on the other hand I found my self cringing with disgust at the flabby blobules of meaty fat kids filling the room, whinging for crisps and chocolate, and huffing with indignation at the prospect of having to be active for another 20 minutes, as they needed their McDonalds NOW! “But Mummy (wheeze) I’m hungry now (wheeze), I my Nuggets mummy (wheeze) I my nuggets”. Now rather than the firm rejection and subsequent humiliation I rain down upon my eldest when she makes similar requests in vein, these spineless mothers were kowtowing to there children like they were chubby little dictators. I was sickened. “Just a minute more snookems, then Nuggets, m’kay hun, have a choccy till we get to McDonalds?”
It wasn’t just the abject disregard for their children’s health I found so utterly sickening and the spineless attitude of these cowering mums, the worst thing was having to look at these wobbling lumps of child, there eyes pushed back to the recesses of there skulls by the waves of fat flowing from their chubby faces. The excess flubbers of meat ballooning out of every fold of clothing, as their grotesque limbs swelled beneath the clothes they were probably greased and squeezed in to daily, “It says 2-3years on the label, Mothercare always come up too small”… No, your kid is fat.
I understand that this is a truly monstrous and deplorable way of describing innocent kids, whose only crime is having lazy parents and no dietary boundaries, but they made me feel genuinely ill-at-ease and more than a little queasy. I suppose it’s a mixture of seeing these freakish butterball babies looking like ghastly swollen caricatures of real people twinned with the gut wrenching sadness that for these poor bastards a life of lethargy, heart disease and ridicule awaits them, and all because mummy says the world is a too scary place to play out in, and can’t stand the idea of a child’s brief hatred as they wallow in the misery of a non-greasy lunch… with no free toy! Oh snookems.
The worst thing about it all was the sheer number of them, they were close to being the majority of the kids, I would hazard a guess that at least 40% were tubby toddlers. However something that did strike me was that the fatty little lardy kids didn’t all have chunk-o-rifick parents, so the old scapegoat and mantra for the fatty “It’s in my DNA” can’t be chanted any more… However this chubby little escapade of mine was just the tip of the husky ice berg, I mean at least the kids here had parents willing to leave the house and do something with there round shiny off-spring… I know there are far worse out there!
Like an explosion in a Play Doe factory, fat blubbery lumps of youth litter our schools, kids are fatter today than ever before and as my excursion to the toddler group showed me, it’s a problem getting bigger by the generation. I am relatively young (late 20s) so it wasn’t that long ago I was at school failing my GCSEs, in my school I had about 200 kids in my year, and out of that there were only a handful of chumba-wumbas, I would say 6 maximum, which boils down to about 3%, not a great deal. Only eleven years ago fat kids stood out like huge bulbous thumbs and were mocked horrendously for being big and fat. Its cruel, but that’s kids for you, a pure but necessary evil. Now though, as I walk to work in the mornings I see dozens of plump little porkers being squeezed in to the backs of cars, as mums and dads try desperately to close the door with the little bloaters completely inside the vehicle, it’s like watching a cartoon woman pack a suitcase. I live on a very busy estate and it’s primarily young families that fill the flats of its landscape, so there are hundreds of kids about, always, and the majority are massive little porkers. And as with the chinless mums with the multi-chinned toddlers, the parents of these quivering jelly lumps appear to do all they can to fuel the fatty fires of festering flumpyness. The family in the bottom flat of my block is a single mum, with three porky blimp-like children and they do nothing these kids, I saw them return from shopping the other day and as they wobbled out the car and breathlessly heaved themselves to their front door, the mum was busy unloading the shopping and came struggling towards the door laden with about 50 shopping bags… I mean for gods sake, I doubt very much the three bags consisting solely of pop-tarts and cream cakes were for her?
More and more we are becoming a nation of oversized under-achievers, and we are the ones to blame. I have three kids and as a parent it is my responsibility to see that they are healthy as much as it is to see they are educated, but all over I see this most basic of parental requirements left wanting. And the result is a nation of lazy, chubbo blobs, who expect life served up in great platefuls with a boat load of extra gravy on the side to wash it down with. We are breeding ourselves for extinction, heart disease will be to the human race what that great meteor was to the dinosaurs. With out trying to sound too sensational, if we don’t make a serious change right NOW, it is the end for all human life, and then whose gonna take over? The Dolphins… is that what you really want???
Well then fat kids, what a fucking nitemare, it’s almost certainly not as bad as I say it is, but kids are getting fatter I have no doubt. And they are just awful to look at, whats worse is when you’re with one of their parents and you have to try and hide your repulsion behind an absolute lie of a compliment… “So, your Toby’s got a large, err, personality??”
Honestly though I couldn’t care how fat kids are as long as mine aren’t, the more kids that are losers in there classes as they get older the higher up the school social order they’ll be, so really it’s a good thing… And on that bacon scented note I end this the 18th Aldershot Woe, which was all really just an embellished, illiterate rant laughing at kids who are going to have a hard enough time anyway… Hahaha…
You can’t follow me on twitter coz your stubby fat fingers are to big for a standard keyboard.
Woe (wheeze)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)