Twenty two days without a post? Blimey. Anyone who thought the recent summer glory would have mellowed me, sorry, but I return with a resounding fanfare of two words. Stop it.
Here's a quick list of those involved so far- Jenson Button, Harvester, a 118 radio ad, that stupid dog training TV show after extensive research, it is called A Different Breed- I'm not sure if that's in reference to the dogs, the team behind it or the owners), and Cuprinol's 'Wood Preservation society'. Also, the "For dogs who BLANK a lot" dog foog ad- Oh, Philip Glenister, how could you?
Monday 25 April 2011
Sunday 3 April 2011
'500,000 on sick are fit to work'
Oh, dear god.
If this is true, as one minister suggests, then every single one of these 500,000 people need to get going. Or move abroad so we don't have to deal with them sitting around and cheating everyone else out of what they could be doing.
I'd like to turn to a recent piece I wrote to be published in my college magazine, The Bowland Lady. If you're ever in the North West of England, seek it out. The piece was entitled
and I think it's a bit relevent here. It reads as follows:
If this is true, as one minister suggests, then every single one of these 500,000 people need to get going. Or move abroad so we don't have to deal with them sitting around and cheating everyone else out of what they could be doing.
I'd like to turn to a recent piece I wrote to be published in my college magazine, The Bowland Lady. If you're ever in the North West of England, seek it out. The piece was entitled
Grit your teeth and get on with it- that ridiculous sense of entitlement in the job market
and I think it's a bit relevent here. It reads as follows:
If I wanted to take part in a scrum I'd have gone to a midnight rugby game.
This is a shout out to all the shitheads out there who love to make queueing at the bar a physical war. I do not want to go to a nightclub to get my upper body workout, or any sort of exercise for that matter, aside from occasional "dancing" which may cause other people on nights out to question both my sanity and whether or not I've got some sort of permanent problem with my nervous system. I want to drink copiously, bellow along to songs which should have been left in the past and generally have a good night.
Having to take part in the ebb and flow of people that becomes a gigantic, braced scrummage with dozens of individual three and four man teams all heading in the same direction and, apparently, attempting to widen the club twenty metres by pushing the bar and back wall away is not my idea of a great way to spend twenty minutes.
And the upshot of it all?
Having to take part in the ebb and flow of people that becomes a gigantic, braced scrummage with dozens of individual three and four man teams all heading in the same direction and, apparently, attempting to widen the club twenty metres by pushing the bar and back wall away is not my idea of a great way to spend twenty minutes.
And the upshot of it all?
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