Bloody Typical

For months now I have been astounded, flabbergasted and other appropriate words ending in ed at the ludicrous articles masquerading as news to be found in my daily news feed; so much so that I decided to dedicate a daily feature on the this blog to those headlines.

So as I fired up the laptop this morning, somewhat bleary eyed and hungover, I was fully expecting the usual crap that has caused me many an indignant exclamation and giggle of a morning only to find... news, some of it uninteresting to me, but indubitably news.

Bugger.

Just Piss Off Would You

For those of you who have watched As Good As it Gets, please picture the scene in the restaurant where the waiter follows Helen Hunt's character around the restaurant with her drink as she moves from the bar to her table.

An amusing little scene you might think, as she weaves her way around the restaurant occasionally glancing back to see if he is still following. Allow me to state that in real life, she would, were she anything like me, have wanted to turn around, grab the drink (no point it going to waste), and punch him in the face, but hey, maybe that's just me.

Cut to yesterday; finding myself with a half hour to spare before meeting some friends, I decided pop into the nearby chemists, you know the kind where they sell everything from condoms to carpets, for a quick browse. No sooner had I crossed the threshold that a shop assistant henceforth known as The Prat sidled up to me asking if I required any assistance. Being in a happy frame of mind, I smiled and said "No thanks, I'm just having a look around."

Now you would think that message was simple enough to be understood by anyone who has mastered the skill of tying their own shoelaces, but clearly I was mistaken, instead The Prat seemed to have heard:

"Yes please, I would like you to invade my personal space by walking so close to me that you're tripping on my heels and hovering over my shoulder, and please make comments about every product I so much as even glance at."

Oh joy.

Not wanting to wind myself up and end up in a shitty mood, which I am wont to do in situations like this, I waited a few minutes and then plastered a smile on my face and said:

"Would you mind leaving me to browse on my own, honestly if I need anything at all I'll call you straight away"

Translated into Prat speak this clearly sounded like:

"Please pay no attention to me whatsoever and continue to piss me off as much as you would like" as he nodded, said "of course" and didn't move an inch. OK then.

I was left with three possible choices:

1. Allow The Prat to continue to hover until I can bear it no more and exit (not bloody likely)
2. Leave without saying anything and hope he doesn't follow me out (Ahh, the high road)
3. Turn around carefully to avoid actual contact, tell him to bugger off and calmly stroll out of the shop (there, that feels better)

Prat.

This is news? Are you sure?

I never cease to be amazed by what makes it into my news feed of a morning. I use Firefox as my browser, which comes with a handy menu of the BBC's latest headlines (propaganda at it's best methinks, and I don't even live in the UK, but that's a whole other post), so I have decided to share what I consider to be the two most ridiculous headlines in my news feed daily; gems from today include:

Sarah Palin's daughter gives birth really? Do we care? Even the Palin's have refused to comment, and yet this ranks in the top 10 of 30 odd headlines, amazing. And then we have:

Thatcher sidelilned over suffage in 1978 a tale of backstabbing politicians 30 years ago and labour's "dislike" hmm for Thatcher; now that is news.

Honestly, it's beyond ridiculous (and I refuse to post a link to the story of a man writing Mills and Boons books, even I have my limits FFS), and to be honest pickings today have been slim due to the bloodbath that is occuring in Gaza.

Twats.

The First Ramble

You know what, I think we all have one, an evil twin that is. It's that side of you that thinks and wants to say the things that you, being the well brought up person that you are, would never dare say.

The one that when confronted with bloody idiots would really like to turn around and say, "look, you're an twat, just bugger off, I really don't want to waste another precious second of my life on you", but never does. Can you imagine how fewer ulcers and heart attack there would be if we all did this? Admittedly it wouldn't make the idiots happy, but do you really care?

So in brief, that is the reason I have started this blog, to find an outlet (other than the wall) within which to express the sheer rage I feel at least once a day (I'm full of the joys, me) and by so doing hopefully extend my life, and if not, at least I'll have some fun ranting about the collective idiots of the world!