Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Wednesday, 4 July 2012
Irritating things.
Just a bit of a rant really.
Impolite eating.
This is one of the main things that makes me wonder if maybe I could kill a person. People who talk with their mouths full. People who scrape their fork on their teeth. People who manage to miss their mouth frequently. STOP IT. It's fucking horrible. "Manners cost nothing" - this includes table manners.
Don't get me wrong. I couldn't care less if you put your elbows on the table. But I do not want to see the mush in your mouth. It is repulsive. I don't want to hear it either. A girl I went to school with once laughed with a mouth full of crunched up apple, and spat it all over my sandwich. I didn't speak to her for a few days, and I never looked at her the same again afterwards.
Bad Manners.
Bit of an extension of the previous point, really. If I've gone through a door ahead of you and I hold it open, say thank you. If you're asking me to do something or pass something to you, whatever, say please. It doesn't take a lot of effort, but it means that I won't spit in/lick/wipe my arse on whatever I'm passing to you.
Old people like to make out it is our generation with no manners, but I beg to differ. It isn't a generation thing. We should all treat one another with mutual respect - the youth of today have been created by the youth of yesterday, don't forget that. I was in the queue for a sandwich one lunchtime, when an elderly woman literally elbowed in front of me to pay for her things. I was actually too shocked to say anything until she'd already paid, she had done it so...obviously...and with such gusto. But as she left, I said "obviously you're more familiar with the concept of age before beauty than you are with the concept of queuing". She said "I've earned my right to go in front, I'm 72". Now. If an old person behind me in a queue looked as if they were struggling, I am the sort of person to offer them the place in front of me. But not when they're perfectly OK and able to push me away with that much strength. Mind you, the polite option doesn't get you anywhere either, sometimes. I offered my seat on the bus to an old woman once, who replied "I'm getting on a bit, I'm not bloody disabled". Can't win.
Princesses.
If I have you on Facebook and you have children, I apologise for this post. Actually, I don't. Because if you are still on my friends list, you probably don't do this. I'd have deleted you by now.
There is NO NEED to update your status every fucking morning about how amazing your "little princess" is, and how she's just done a massive turd. I do not care. I don't want to see pictures of it either. The kid or the shit. "Princess" isn't good either. It implies that she's spoilt and demanding and basically a little fucker. We know you love your own kids - that's the norm. We won't doubt you if you just tell us about it less. I'd also recommend keeping a little bit of "you" rather than becoming a Cath Kidston mum-twat who no longer carries lipgloss, but has a handbag full of tissues, arsewipes and slices of apple/bottles of fruit shoot. You are allowed to move away from the Mum Uniform of baggy t-shirt and leggings. You are still a woman. I may regret this when I'm a mother, but I doubt it. I like to think I will still be a normal human being. We'll see.
Also, if you're pregnant, stop posting your scan pictures all over the place. They all look the same, whilst they're cooking and up until the age of about 18 months.
Duck egg blue and Beige.
STOP DECORATING YOUR HOUSE IN DUCK EGG BLUE/TEAL AND BEIGE.
Your feature wall, in a floral flocked wallpaper, doesn't make you look original. Nor does the beige paint, the blue curtains and cushions, and the tan sofa. It looks fucking horrible. Get creative, do something a bit funky. Linda Barker won't mind. She won't even know. I promise. And those three-piece floral "canvas" art pieces that you hang up, that you bought from Wilko's for £12? They're shit!
Impolite eating.
This is one of the main things that makes me wonder if maybe I could kill a person. People who talk with their mouths full. People who scrape their fork on their teeth. People who manage to miss their mouth frequently. STOP IT. It's fucking horrible. "Manners cost nothing" - this includes table manners.
Don't get me wrong. I couldn't care less if you put your elbows on the table. But I do not want to see the mush in your mouth. It is repulsive. I don't want to hear it either. A girl I went to school with once laughed with a mouth full of crunched up apple, and spat it all over my sandwich. I didn't speak to her for a few days, and I never looked at her the same again afterwards.
Bad Manners.
Bit of an extension of the previous point, really. If I've gone through a door ahead of you and I hold it open, say thank you. If you're asking me to do something or pass something to you, whatever, say please. It doesn't take a lot of effort, but it means that I won't spit in/lick/wipe my arse on whatever I'm passing to you.
Old people like to make out it is our generation with no manners, but I beg to differ. It isn't a generation thing. We should all treat one another with mutual respect - the youth of today have been created by the youth of yesterday, don't forget that. I was in the queue for a sandwich one lunchtime, when an elderly woman literally elbowed in front of me to pay for her things. I was actually too shocked to say anything until she'd already paid, she had done it so...obviously...and with such gusto. But as she left, I said "obviously you're more familiar with the concept of age before beauty than you are with the concept of queuing". She said "I've earned my right to go in front, I'm 72". Now. If an old person behind me in a queue looked as if they were struggling, I am the sort of person to offer them the place in front of me. But not when they're perfectly OK and able to push me away with that much strength. Mind you, the polite option doesn't get you anywhere either, sometimes. I offered my seat on the bus to an old woman once, who replied "I'm getting on a bit, I'm not bloody disabled". Can't win.
Princesses.
If I have you on Facebook and you have children, I apologise for this post. Actually, I don't. Because if you are still on my friends list, you probably don't do this. I'd have deleted you by now.
There is NO NEED to update your status every fucking morning about how amazing your "little princess" is, and how she's just done a massive turd. I do not care. I don't want to see pictures of it either. The kid or the shit. "Princess" isn't good either. It implies that she's spoilt and demanding and basically a little fucker. We know you love your own kids - that's the norm. We won't doubt you if you just tell us about it less. I'd also recommend keeping a little bit of "you" rather than becoming a Cath Kidston mum-twat who no longer carries lipgloss, but has a handbag full of tissues, arsewipes and slices of apple/bottles of fruit shoot. You are allowed to move away from the Mum Uniform of baggy t-shirt and leggings. You are still a woman. I may regret this when I'm a mother, but I doubt it. I like to think I will still be a normal human being. We'll see.
Also, if you're pregnant, stop posting your scan pictures all over the place. They all look the same, whilst they're cooking and up until the age of about 18 months.
Duck egg blue and Beige.
STOP DECORATING YOUR HOUSE IN DUCK EGG BLUE/TEAL AND BEIGE.
Your feature wall, in a floral flocked wallpaper, doesn't make you look original. Nor does the beige paint, the blue curtains and cushions, and the tan sofa. It looks fucking horrible. Get creative, do something a bit funky. Linda Barker won't mind. She won't even know. I promise. And those three-piece floral "canvas" art pieces that you hang up, that you bought from Wilko's for £12? They're shit!
Monday, 2 July 2012
Pondering, Austen style.
This is just a little bit of a mess really, I didn’t plan on posting it, but anyway...
I’m a big fan of Jane Austen. I frequently receive messages from men that quite frankly puzzle me to point of despair. “nice tits” is one that comes up a lot. I won’t let a bloke like that sweep me off my feet.
Those comments probably sound totally unrelated, but I’ve been thinking lately. I’m writing these men off instantly. Literally, I’ll read the message, click back, and never look again. But...
Mr Darcy. He went through such a transformation. The first impression he gave was that of an absolute arsehole, truth be told. But because he has strong principles, and through falling in love and learning to look beyond facades etc, he comes out of his hard shell and becomes worthy of pretty-much-perfect-Elizabeth.
This speaks to me on loads of levels. Should I be giving these guys a bit more of a chance? First impressions-wise, am I giving off the wrong one in order to attract these guys in the first place?
I think Austen can teach us a lot about men, even today. Henry Crawford, for example. Probably the type of man we should all avoid, flirts with anyone and everyone. The type of man that is all over you from the very first second. Who asks nothing about your life. Full of sexually charged banter and only asks you on late-night dates. We should avoid this man, and avoid behaving like the female equivalent of this man. Can you become addicted to flirting, and therefore be more reluctant to enter into a relationship or be faithful in a relationship?
I’m a big fan of Jane Austen. I frequently receive messages from men that quite frankly puzzle me to point of despair. “nice tits” is one that comes up a lot. I won’t let a bloke like that sweep me off my feet.
Those comments probably sound totally unrelated, but I’ve been thinking lately. I’m writing these men off instantly. Literally, I’ll read the message, click back, and never look again. But...
Mr Darcy. He went through such a transformation. The first impression he gave was that of an absolute arsehole, truth be told. But because he has strong principles, and through falling in love and learning to look beyond facades etc, he comes out of his hard shell and becomes worthy of pretty-much-perfect-Elizabeth.
This speaks to me on loads of levels. Should I be giving these guys a bit more of a chance? First impressions-wise, am I giving off the wrong one in order to attract these guys in the first place?
I think Austen can teach us a lot about men, even today. Henry Crawford, for example. Probably the type of man we should all avoid, flirts with anyone and everyone. The type of man that is all over you from the very first second. Who asks nothing about your life. Full of sexually charged banter and only asks you on late-night dates. We should avoid this man, and avoid behaving like the female equivalent of this man. Can you become addicted to flirting, and therefore be more reluctant to enter into a relationship or be faithful in a relationship?
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