Sunday, 28 February 2010

Bin Men

I remember the days...Lakeside School in Washington, I loved Rush and girls in leotards writhing around to Tom Sawyer.  On Thursdays (that's a total guess) we'd see the bin men collecting the trash from outside people's houses whilst we were on our lunch breaks and the somewhat unkind chant would start up:


When you're 11 years old you don't give much of a toss about how other people feel, but it occurred to me in later life that a dozen children sneering loudly would probably have been quite hurtful, and the Domestic Refuse Workers themselves may have felt denigrated by our behaviours.

I'm not apologising, it's quite funny actually and I remember the Bin Men themselves making rude gestures our way.  Not sure that was the right thing to do.

Nowadays there is more respect for Waste Disposal Technicians. They get a nice wage (anecdotally, I have no real idea), they work only until midday or something and they are such fucking prima-donnas that you have to place your bin facing exactly the right way and there can't be a teeny tiny bit of black bag peeping out of the lid or they won't take it.

Yeah! Cushy number there mate. Screw you, Uttlesford District Council!


Total rubbish!  All those inoffensive looking Australians, taking teenagers seriously.

My neighbours have turned out to be complete bastards.

We couldn't have been more pleasant when we moved in.  We took their children a giant cake, we took the parents a bottle of wine.  We invited them to our house-warming party, which the husband attended, already drunk.  I offered our assistance on any matter whatsoever.

We hear them shouting at their children a lot, but that's not my business so I pay no attention, but it should have given me a clue to what sort of people they are.

He now whines and pisses about my girlfriend parking too close to his house, once, on public ground, on a spot he never parks.  It makes no difference to him if anyone parks there really, he's just complaining because he can and it makes him feel like a man, which never happens normally because he's 5'6, probably never gets any and ain't very bright.

It's a horrible situation because now I feel justified in being as poor a neighbour as he.  I think if I tell him to 'go fuck yourself' just once that should be enough.

Thought for the day - You can't stop a short bloke kicking off

Thursday, 25 February 2010

You drive like a Doos

The English equivalent to the word 'doos' (pronounced sort of like 'do-us') is so vulgar I'm not going to use it

Just answer honestly, to yourself.  Do you...
  • Have your seat so far back you have to lock your elbows to steer
  • Gesticulate at other drivers when they don't indicate/signal
  • Think that being able to zoom past someone at high speed makes you potent
  • Believe in any way that your driving ability makes you a better person, more attractive to women or more admired and respected by men
  • Have a white car
  • Listen to clubland, house, rave, funk, rap, acid, bongo, dance, trance, reggae or any other music written by someone with an IQ of less than 90, so loudly that a person outside your vehicle can hear it
  • Break the speed limit on a highway but then attempt to show everyone around you how awesome you are at sticking to the highway code by driving primarily in the left-hand lane; having to continuously change lanes because you're driving 20mph faster than everyone else
  • Have blacked out windows
  • Put the top down the second the temperature rises above zero letting everyone see how absolutely fabulous you are with your sunglasses on even though you are fucking freezing
Now, I'd just like to point out, that nobody is watching you.  When you think you are being cool, nobody cares, and if they even notice they think that you are an attention seeking wanker. Which you are.


I've noticed recently that leggings are high fashion.  I asked my girlfriend why and she says it's for fat chicks and that they hide cellulite.  If you haven't seen the look, it's leggings and a really long t-shirt so you don't see the wobble.  This may be often accompanied by a HUGE belt which covers up the ENTIRE stomach region. I wonder what those are for....Hmm.

I've seen plenty of skinny women wearing them, but you know what women are like; anything to pretend they think they're fat.  Quick, give me some attention, I'm super-skinny but I'll pretend I think I'm fat, by doing this I'll also rub it in everyone else's face that I'm skinny and they're probably overweight.  Now I'm going to pretend that I eat loads of food when in fact I haven't had a period for 6 months and can't open my mouth properly in case you see that I've got scurvy.

I'll be honest, they do make women's legs look sleeker, but I know this is happening and then wonder how huge those legs are without the leggings.  Hopefully I'll never know.

There was a discussion at work about them as they are banned under the dress code because they aren't 'business casual'.  I agreed that I would overlook the wearing of leggings as long as there was no camel-toe visible.  Plainly what the company doesn't want is women wearing leggings and a tiny top, because, let's face it, while you'd love to see *random good looking woman's name here* in that attire, most of our colleagues don't look like that.  Aside from that, fatties would complain like mad.  I've had to scrap an entire Beach Fun Day because of fatties bitching about normal looking women planning to wear bikinis, pretending it would be disgusting and think of the children, instead of admitting they would be horribly jealous and are profoundly ashamed of their own unattractiveness.  Yea, I know the score fatties!

I was about to state that it's strange how you don't hear of men being asked to tone down the tight pants, but then I remembered that Jeremy at work asked me if I really had to wear such tight jeans on dress-down days.  I'm not in the same league as Steve Perry but I have to admit those are some pretty tight jeans.  I don't like the 'jeans hanging down around my knees so everyone can see my Calvin Kleins and I think I'm dead cool but in fact I'm a complete fucktard who pretends he's an individual although I follow all the latest trends in music and fashion including this one which is designed to separate out the cretins' look so I'm sorry Jeremy but you'll have to continue to feel inadequate before my overwhelming manliness.

It pays to advertise.  If you think women don't cock-watch you're sadly mistaken.  Unfortunately ladies, men don't give a shit how sleek your legs are if you've got a fat ass, no tits and/or a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle.

Monday, 22 February 2010

Blog replaces girlfriend

Well, ever since I've started writing these articles, whenever I start a rant in the presence of my previously patient other-half, all I get is, 'put it in your blog'.

Just wondering what else she's going to sub-contract out...

Friday, 19 February 2010

Dumped by Facebook

We've all been dumped via Facebook.

There's an outpouring of sympathy and schadenfreude on your profile page which you read numbly because you didn't know yet and all these people pretending to care got the news before you.

You didn't notice her manicure so she stormed out of the restaurant in a huff, went straight home, changed her status to single and set about answering dozens of personal messages from blokes she said were just friends.  And now she's gonna fuck em all!

My story is nothing like that, and for another time.  Today I'm going to tell you the story of Dale.

I work with Dale and he's a good bloke.  He is abstinent for years at a time, open about it and takes the savage ribbing he receives in good humour.  He hangs about with women he fancies with in the vain hope that they'll see what a great guy he is and shag him.  We all know that this tactic is futile and I tell Dale this often, but it doesn't stop him.  His latest object of adoration, Abby, is very sweet and like many of her sex, laughably believes that men want to be friends with her because of her great personality.  She spends time with Dale outside of work and they are jolly good chums.

It seems as though Abby has also made friends with Dale's best mate, another 30 something male, who evidently wants to hang with a 21 year old girl with gigantic and frequently on-display breasts,  simply because they have loads in common.  Anyway, Abby and best mate went to the movies, as friends, and Dale wasn't impressed.  On their next jolly-good-friend night out Dale taught Abby a lesson by drunkenly swapping spit with her best mate.  Abby's best mate is the sort of woman who you are nice to because she might have fit friends, and once you've met them, she will become invisible.

Beer-goggles in full force, Dale said all the usual things you say when you stupidly cop-off with someone you know, but don't fancy at all, but they have two tits and a hole so you might as well do it cos every hole's a goal.

Obviously, once the booze wears off, the regret sets in and Dale weighed up his options...

Pursue a relationship with object of desire's best friend, but actually I'm not attracted to her without 8 bottles of Blue Wicked in me, and I'll never get to strump Abby as friend's boyfriends are off-limits.


Be honest and say 'Abby, I'm only nice to you because I want to get in your knickers. Shag me, or we're not going to be hanging out any more and I'll make a move on one of the other thousands of eligible women out there.'


Send the less attractive, hopeful and sensitive best friend an invite to the Facebook group - I was drunk, I dont remember it, therefore it didnt happen

The 3 letter combination 'lol' was made for times like this.

I'm a senior member of staff in the office we work, so I've got to pretend to be appalled, but Dale, here's a virtual high five!

Thursday, 18 February 2010

5 Steps to Losing Weight with Dignity

You're a bloke. You want to go to the gym to get a bit fitter, slimmer or more ripped. Or do you have an ulterior motive? Like to act weirdly. Or come out of the closet?

Here are 5 simple ways to maintain a little more decorum in the gymnasium and please, avoid the Locker Room Showdown

Right, here's the acceptable time for nudity at the gym - When you are getting changed!

Only closet victims like you want to see another man's tiny knob and pendulous sack in the locker room. Gays don't look and straights don't want to see it.

I get the impression that some guys are trying to say 'Hey, I'm comfortable with my body and being nude is no big deal. I'm so cool'. No, you are not, you are a tool.

Do you actually shave in the nude at home? Do you absolutely have to dry your feet with one leg up on a bench? Stop standing around chatting with no bloody clothes on, this isn't ancient Greece!

Nudity 2
Ok, the other side of this is equally weird, but not as disturbing.

At the gym I go to there are booths for tanning with a miniscule space between a half-door and the booth. The half-door is one of those that cover a normal person from neck to knees.

People will squeeze in there to get changed so nobody can see their tiny cock. It takes 40 minutes to get dressed but at least nobody's seen your cock.

Right, I've got my towel wrapped around my waist, and now I'll put my t-shirt on, and now I'll put my underwear on while still wearing this towel. Hahahaha, what the hell?!?! That's really convoluted and it makes you look like a huge bender.

Yea, I appreciate they are for drying hair. Hair on your head, dumbass!

Feet, backs, armpits. I almost had a psychotic break when I saw this for the first time. Why would someone not just use a towel?

I feel like ramming the dryer up the miscreant's arse when I see this. 'Try dressing with this crammed up your crack dickhead'. Ahh, Caddyshack.

Staring at chicks
For God's sake. Stop staring at women sideways you giant homos!

I was waiting at the top of the stairs for my girlfriend. Now, she is beautiful and I expect men to stare longingly, but why are they doing it sideways? Oh yea, of course, unless they are drunk, men are scared of women. 50% of men drink so they have the courage to speak to women. Losers! Of course when she walks within earshot they resume their loud chat about protein drinks. Yea, I know what sort of protein drinks your kind likes.

In the giant cardio room, loads of fit birds, tight pants, tight shorts, tight tops. Men staring and trying to look cool. Raise your hand if you've ever scored with a chick who didn't know you existed by looking 'cool' (inverted commas because you don't look cool, you look like a tool).

Not sure if women want to be predatorised at the gym, but you might want to make the attempt rather than acting like a 13 year old watching porn with his mates.

Why are you competing with me?

These tossers get on the cardio machine next to you, slyly look over, so you panic briefly thinking they're going to touch you up, see what speed/setting you are on, and go 1 higher.

I would never think of doing something like that. So you've got 20 years on me, and can get to 14 on the cross-trainer, hooray for you. Now piss off!