When I was a child, I was a Catholic, I went to church as a Catholic, thought as a Catholic and prayed as a catholic. But when I grew up I put away Catholic things and plumped instead for atheism and homosexuality.
Since then I’ve lived my life by a certain code. That code states that I will always be polite and attempt to never deliberately hurt another person. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a minority – especially when I hold the door open for somebody and they barge past and don’t even say thank you. My favourite smoking method is the pipe and I enjoy a lovely gin and tonic or a pint of real ale. You will never see me in a tracksuit or garish sportswear but I will do that annoying thing of combining old and new school casual clothing. Quite often you will see me in a shirt, cravat and sports jacket but with jeans and converse trainers afflicting my lower half. This marks me out as being a none-chap. However on occasion I can be the very epitome of chappishness. At these times I am usually wearing a rather nice suite and bushy whiskers and puffing away on my pipe.
For this reason alone, I buy The Chap magazine.
For those of you unfamiliar with this publication let me describe it. The Chap is a glittering jewel in the pigsty of the magazine and periodical market. It isn’t filled to the brim with advertisements. Nor does it have photographs of severed limbs or minor celebrities bending over. Instead it concentrates on the finer things in life, like a nice suit or well tied cravat. It also has superbly written pieces about historical chaps who did extraordinary deeds and lovely interviews with modern chaps such as Stephen Fry.
My favourite sections are ‘Am I a chap?’ and anything written by Michael ‘Atters’ Attree who I admire greatly.
Why not pop out and buy a copy today? In fact buy one for a friend too then buy another to lay down for your grandchildren. You don’t even need to be the full chap to read it. Chapism is as much a state of mind as anything. So if you – like me – have no religion, then invite Chapism into your life. You’ll never regret it.
Today I received a rather nice Email from Yorkshire Water who have informed me that they have withdrawn the court case against me in good faith. This has left me somewhat surprised as I had been expecting a protracted battle of wills followed by my being credit blacklisted. I am of course delighted that this matter has been cleared up with the minimum of fuss.
In a similar act of good faith I have (at their request) amended the name of my previous post on this topic from ‘Yorkshire Water Are Evil’ to simply ‘Yorkshire Water’. They had wanted me to delete it all together but I couldn’t do that as it was their mistake to begin with and I have included a link to this entry in a footnote.
Now I’m going to write two entries today as I want to speak on another topic but I feel it deserves its own entry.
See you in a second.
At the risk of turning this blog into a serial moan about British shops and utility providers, I would like to kvetch about Sainsbury’s. Sainsbury’s gives me a headache. It’s not the lighting or the beepy beepety beep of the tills which make my bonce cringe. Nor is the lovely booze which they sell by the case. Neither is it their habit of moving things around so that some beef is never in the same place twice, and I likes some beef I does.
Nope it’s none of these. It is in fact the artificial smell of baking bread which they pipe through the ventilation system. It hits me straight in the sinuses every time; my eyes start to water and a throbbing headache wracks my skull and nausea grips my stomach. In fact on several occasions I’ve had to walk out and get some fresh air to prevent myself from chundering over the salad bar. Though I doubt that anybody would notice a bit of vomit, among all those congealed tubs of cack.
Why do supermarkets insist on doing this?! It’s not fooling anyone! At no time in the past, present or future has a customer walked into a store and said “I do love that smell of bread in formaldehyde – it really puts a spring in my step. Yummy yummy yummy yummy.” Never! I reckon you could go back pretty far in Earth’s history and still not find a person who would say that thing that I just wrote down using my fingers.
Perhaps other companies should follow suit. The next time you go to the Undertaker; why not enjoy the authentic smell of rotting cadavers piped directly into your head through tubes? Getting married? Then get your local church to distribute the smell of spunk and disappointment through their organ pipes. Also a stay in hospital could be improved no-end by the smell of guts.
O brave new world, that has such stenches in it.
Today I received a court summons from Northampton requiring the immediate payment of my water rates. This would have seemed fair enough if I hadn’t already a direct debit with the Yorkshire Water, a direct debit with the company, which as yet has been unsullied by use.
Of course I complained and I hit the stone wall of idiocy one often finds on a utility ‘helpline’. You tell them that they’ve made a mistake and they tell you that they haven’t and that it’s your fault. You have with malice afore thought set up a Direct Debit in order that they can take money from your account in settlement of your bill. How dare you!
Now I understand that the people on these ‘helplines’ are continually bombarded with fibs and excuses but when it is self evident that their company has made a mistake they should at least be apologetic. The person I spoke to yesterday just talked about ‘company policy’ which is a sure fire way to provoke ire in even the most reasonable human being.
“I’m sorry sir but if you don’t pay the full amount, we will take you to court and you will have a judgement against your name which may prevent you from getting credit in the future.”
“Well I don’t have the full amount.”
“You have had every opportunity to make payment Mr Wolfenden, why didn’t you set up a regular payment plan.”
“I did! I set up a Direct Debit, I’m looking at it on my bank’s website now.”
“In which case why didn’t you realise that we weren’t taking any money out?”
“I set up the Direct debit so that I wouldn’t have to monitor every payment.”
“I’m sorry sir but you will have to pay the amount in full.”
“I don’t have the full amount.”
“Well you can fill in the form that came with your court claim form, this allows you arrange a monthly figure.”
“Excellent! So if I send you this, will that stop you from taking me to court?”
“No, we will still seek a judgement from the court.”
“What? Even though I’m paying?”
“It is company policy to pursue all debts through the courts.”
“Well you still have my Direct Debit which is ready to use, can’t you take money through that?”
“I’m afraid it’s against company policy…”
At that point I slammed down the receiver and called them a bunch of fucking cunty cocksplashes.
Yorkshire Water are evil.
If you’re like me, then stop it! I hate it when people impersonate me, hate it.
Sorry *twitch wibble*
If you’re like me, you will be heartily fed up of those lists which zoom around by Email and social networking sites. You know the sort; they ask you a series of questions and you answer them as truthfully as you can before sending them on to a million friends who fill them in and send them to another million friends until everybody is heartily sick.
To lay these annoyances to rest, here is my list of twenty questions and some many answers to that:
1) What’s your Italian snack name? Luigi Crisp
2) What is your favourite tower? Tower Hamlets
3) Do you like me? No
4) If you were some sky, which sky would you be? The sky above a nudist colony
(not fat old nudists).
5) Is it safe? Yes.
6) What’s that? None of your business.
7) Legs or arms? A few.
8) When was the last time you dusted a chicken brick? 1979
9) Who was the last person you tweaked? Blondin.
10) Is it just me or is that…? Yes it is.
11) Gas dumplings? No
12) What is the name of your favourite fish? Susan.
13) Your favourite dancing mythical creature? The Disco Unicorn.
14) What’s your PIN? 4589
15) Favourite weapon? A big old gun.
16) Who will you be sending this to? Some Swans.
17) Who is the most likely to forward this on? I don’t know they’re Swans!
18) Who is the least likely to forward this on? David Carradine.
19) Pugilists or Barristers? Barristers.
20) Your final word? Gland.
You may have noticed that I’ve been on holiday.
Yep one whole week of doing nothing but chillaxing at home.
However I now find myself suffering from ‘home holiday jet-lag’. This feels very similar to actual jet-lag but unlike actual jet-lag isn’t caused by a travelling between different time zones. It is instead caused by going to bed at 3am and getting up at noon for a whole week.
At one time this would have been the norm for me; especially when I was a stand-up. But nowadays I have a respectable day job and need to be at the office for 8am. Some of you may be surprised by this. Yes I have a day job as well as my night job writing buffoonery for buffoons. These are lean times my friends and you need to get your brass where you can.
You may have noticed that in the previous paragraph, I used the word ‘brass’ to denote money. This marks me out among the many people of this planet as a Yorkshireman. Now I’m not going to say too much about that as I’m recording a Brain Fluff on that very subject over this coming weekend.
However let me say this right now, I am not a racist, my family are not racists nor are my friends, acquaintances or the majority of my neighbours. In fact I am a woolly liberal and love the fact that I can walk down the street where I live and hear many different languages and smell exotic foods cooking.
So how in the name of Jumping Jehosephat did Yorkshire manage to elect a cunt bubble to the European Parliament? How? I’m utterly appalled, I want to run out into the street of interesting voices and smells, and shout WHYYYYYYYYYYY? It’s just so wrong! This isn’t a county of bigotry, it’s a county of rolling dales and hills with sheep on them and towns full of mills which have been converted into office blocks. It’s the county of good cricket and friendly people. West Yorkshire, where I live, has the largest population of Asian people in the country for heavens sake! We’re not racist! Got it!
So how did this happen?
Two reasons: proportional apathy and scum.
Now as a woolly liberal I shouldn’t use phrases like ‘Scum’ or ‘Chav’. Both these are demotic and so inherently unpalatable to a person who attempts promote equality among all people. However I intend to use both of these words, only because I wish to argue myself out of ever using them again.
The BNP have tapped into a previously unexploited resource: the underclass. Often lacking even the most basic education they are easily persuaded that foreigners are taking over the country and are being paid thousands in benefits. This is a nonsense as most immigrants work for a living. Those who are not allowed to work because they are in the country illegally get the bare minimum of help which equates to the cost of a few tins of beans and some bread.
These claims are further reinforced by the right wing press who publish frightening stories about immigrants taking all our air or some such rot and that settles the matter for the Chav or Scum. They see it clearly: immigration is bad and there’s only one way to stop it. For perhaps for the first time in their life they register to vote and head out on polling day to put a cross on that form; it’s a cross of power, it says to the world that enough is enough! No more immigration! No more tolerance! No more political correctness gone mad! It burns in their mind like the crosses of the KKK; it is the cross of hatred and they use it. They take their pencil and make their mark and the great tolerance which marks this country out as civilised is wounded, maybe only a little but it bleeds.
Of course these people aren’t Chavs or Scumbags they’re just people. The problem is that the other parties aren’t talking to them. They’re talking to people like me and you but completely ignoring those other people, the people who make up quite a hefty proportion of the British population. It’s time for the main parties in this country to start talking. Not to me or you but to the people who are the most isolated. We can call them the underclass if we want but at the end of the day they are a people wholly without representation and are incredibly vulnerable to peddlers of bigotry and hatred. So come on you MPs it’s time to redeem yourselves get out to those sink estates and start talking. Talk sense and they’ll listen but patronise and lie to them and they’ll reject you and put their cross in the other box.
However let me turn my angry gaze to the real culprits. You know who you are. As Edward Burke done said “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” Your vote counts and if you don’t vote you allow all kinds of evil to slither in between the cracks. Your vote can squeeze those cracks shut, use it for goodness sake. Get off your backside the next time and put your cross on that piece of paper and show that you give a damn and if you don’t give a damn then please fuck off.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. The problem with blogs is they give arseholes like me a pipe to vomit utter cunt-shit down.
Well that was a barrel of laughs, cold roast beef for tea.