horns of wilmington's cow

By anth

Squirrelbucks

Overheard at the table next to us having dinner before going to Taiko drumming week 2, a group of 20-something loud southern lads who clearly thought they were hilarious:

So like, yeah, bring it on.

Yeah, I went to see Paul the other day, and he was, like, watching the football match. And I asked, because, y'know, I was interested, who was playing and he, like, said it was Manchester United and Wigan, and, like, I said, that's not Manchester United against Wigan it's Brazil against Spain against Poland.

Oh my god, that's so funny.

I know, and like Caroline was literally laughing her head off. And I said that it's because there isn't anyone on the pitch from Manchester or Wigan so how can it be Manchester United against Wigan. That's how I see it, so I said that.

So what did he say?

He just, like, watched the football, but, y'know, Caroline was totally going for it.

I saw her the other night I was like totally fucking wasted.

Yeah, I can drink like loads.

Yeah, like, so can I, I'd had, like 4 pints.

Oh my god, that's just like literally insane.

I know it was like sooooo funny.

So anyway, there was this time in London yeah....


The grammaticide was painful; the subject matter self-reverential; the language generally uncalled for in a public place that wasn't a hive of scum and villainy; and the aggrandisement somewhat uncalled for. And the great big jessies that they were thought the food was a little too spicy.

Leaving the well-known purveyor of (amongst other things) noodley delights a group of four young affluent student types were coming in. Three lads and one girl. Chivalry, ladies and gentlemen, is dead. It is an ex-chivalry. Chivalry has kicked the bucket; gone to meet its maker; shuffled off this mortal coil. Either that or she was a militant feminist, but it just looked like the lads were happy to mooch into the warmth with her opening the door for all three. Perhaps I'm a dying breed; perhaps it's outdated, maybe even offensive and a perpetuation of sexual stereotypes... But I open doors for women; I walk on the road side of the pavement; I give up seats on buses (when I can stand being on the bus); I'll fetch something off a high shelf in the supermarket; and every time it seems to be met with a gratefulness bordering on surprise. Which is sad.

Oh, and speaking of work (what do you mean I wasn't speaking of work? I just mentioned it at the start of this sentence, so I was speaking of work - do please keep up) - remember that 6 month extension I got? Well the HR department clearly don't. Came home to a letter stating that my final payslip and P45 would be in the post shortly with my contract having come to an end on December 31st. This has me more than a little concerned with payday a mere 4 days away. I texted my boss, whose immediate response was one of supportive crude language.

(the blip continues my squirrel theme - see last week for the Saltire and Golf Sale Squirrels, and the week before for the Teddy Squirrel - I'm too lazy to put the links in - I can't do everything around here y'know...)

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