Happy New Year, faithful followers! Let's hope everything I hoped would happen in 2010 will now happen in 2011. Although the likelihood of Johnny Depp getting the urge to move to a semi-detached in East London is fairly remote. However, I remain optimistic that I will stick my new year's resolution. Which was not to make one! You see I can't stick to them. No, not even abstaining from alcohol for 1 month. Plus life is too short. And knowing my luck, I'll be hit by a truck - my departing thoughts being that if only I had a hangover, it would be so much less painful!
So far, nothing has pushed me to the edge this year. Work is calm. The trains are crap. The weather is awful. Same old. So I thought I'd reflect on some of the random irritations of last year. Things that don't warrant a full-scale rant but nevertheless are worthy of mention. Apologies if you fall into any of the categories. Remember it's all done in the best possible taste.
Men in Gladiator sandles
OK I know they were originally worn by men. In Roman times!! It wasn't a great look but they seemed to work fairly well so long as you're wearing armour and carrying a sword. Otherwise you just look gay. In fact they're horrible things even on girls - particularly if you've got short legs. It lust looks like you've got your ankles caught up in some discarded bits of leather! Leave them to Julius!
Self Service Checkouts
It really shouldn't be that difficult. So why have relationships between us and these machines has become so fraught? The moments of 'barcode blindness' where you almost end up with repetitive strain injury trying to get the frigging thing to scan. And when you finally do, you're greeted with he phrase "unexpected item in the bagging area": a phrase so synonymous with the 21st Century shopping experience it's become a T-shirt slogan. What's so unexpected anyway? You only swiped the item a second ago and were charged for it. So you have to wait for a member of staff to come and press a few buttons while you stand there feeling utterly incompetent. Still it does at least allow me to buy all those embarrassing things that the spotty checkout assistant probably snigger at.
Public Snogging
Nobody wants to hear your slurping noises. Is it that urgent that you can't wait til you get home? Or at least find an doorway or a large tree to hide behind? There is a solution though. Get married! Then this revolting desire to eat each other's faces off will be instantly cured!
Text Speak
Alright it's OK if it's a life and death situation. Maybe you've just taken a wrong turn up Kilimanjaro (apparently the road signs are rubbish) or you've slipped down a ravine in the Amazon rainforest and are clinging to a clifftop while starving crocodiles are snapping at your feet. Clearly you need to get an urgent message to someone and understandly punctuation and grammar aren't top of your list. So apart from that, or you're 14, please don't! Trust me there's nothing worse that getting a text from a 40 something which reads 'OMG it ws Gr8 2 c u'. It's just lazy. More importantly, it takes me twice as long for me to figure it out. But that's another issue entirely.
Women Who Do their Make Up On The Train
Can you really not spare 5 minutes to slap on the polyfilla before you leave the house? Be honest, it's not easy is it? Trying to coat your bottom lashes whilst hurtling through tunnels at 60 miles an hour. In fact, just this morning I got off the train covered in a thin layer of Clinique powder while the lass who'd been trying to apply it looked more like Coco the Clown.
That's enough from me now.
GTG.
L8trs!
TTFN!
LOL.
So far, nothing has pushed me to the edge this year. Work is calm. The trains are crap. The weather is awful. Same old. So I thought I'd reflect on some of the random irritations of last year. Things that don't warrant a full-scale rant but nevertheless are worthy of mention. Apologies if you fall into any of the categories. Remember it's all done in the best possible taste.
Men in Gladiator sandles
OK I know they were originally worn by men. In Roman times!! It wasn't a great look but they seemed to work fairly well so long as you're wearing armour and carrying a sword. Otherwise you just look gay. In fact they're horrible things even on girls - particularly if you've got short legs. It lust looks like you've got your ankles caught up in some discarded bits of leather! Leave them to Julius!
Self Service Checkouts
It really shouldn't be that difficult. So why have relationships between us and these machines has become so fraught? The moments of 'barcode blindness' where you almost end up with repetitive strain injury trying to get the frigging thing to scan. And when you finally do, you're greeted with he phrase "unexpected item in the bagging area": a phrase so synonymous with the 21st Century shopping experience it's become a T-shirt slogan. What's so unexpected anyway? You only swiped the item a second ago and were charged for it. So you have to wait for a member of staff to come and press a few buttons while you stand there feeling utterly incompetent. Still it does at least allow me to buy all those embarrassing things that the spotty checkout assistant probably snigger at.
Public Snogging
Nobody wants to hear your slurping noises. Is it that urgent that you can't wait til you get home? Or at least find an doorway or a large tree to hide behind? There is a solution though. Get married! Then this revolting desire to eat each other's faces off will be instantly cured!
Text Speak
Alright it's OK if it's a life and death situation. Maybe you've just taken a wrong turn up Kilimanjaro (apparently the road signs are rubbish) or you've slipped down a ravine in the Amazon rainforest and are clinging to a clifftop while starving crocodiles are snapping at your feet. Clearly you need to get an urgent message to someone and understandly punctuation and grammar aren't top of your list. So apart from that, or you're 14, please don't! Trust me there's nothing worse that getting a text from a 40 something which reads 'OMG it ws Gr8 2 c u'. It's just lazy. More importantly, it takes me twice as long for me to figure it out. But that's another issue entirely.
Women Who Do their Make Up On The Train
Can you really not spare 5 minutes to slap on the polyfilla before you leave the house? Be honest, it's not easy is it? Trying to coat your bottom lashes whilst hurtling through tunnels at 60 miles an hour. In fact, just this morning I got off the train covered in a thin layer of Clinique powder while the lass who'd been trying to apply it looked more like Coco the Clown.
That's enough from me now.
GTG.
L8trs!
TTFN!
LOL.
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