Room 101 (part three).

3: The general public
How I hate 'the general public'. They're ugly, depressing and boring. It's important to distinguish here between 'the general public' and 'people'. I like 'people', 'people' are nice and can be capable of the most extraordinary acts of kindness and selflessness. The term 'the general public' is used here as a kind of metaphor for people en-masse and in a particular situation or mood. Stand in the arrivals hall of Gatwick Airport and you'll see 'the general public' at their ugliest. Tonnes of Brits wobbling off the flight from Malaga in shorts and flip-flops, their size-too-small vest barely covering the flab they call a belly. Lobster pink face and milky white pins. Completely oblivious of course to the fact that they've returned to Britain in October when it's chuffin' freezing!
They read the Daily Mail, Heat Magazine and anything with a 30+ neurotic singleton in it who's sexy and kooky, get's pissed and dates rubbish men. They go to Pizza-Hut and Starbucks. They think that chewing gum belongs on the pavement. They think that road-rage is a brilliant idea and that 'The X-Factor is a truly worthwhile tv show. (Sharron Osbourne was recently voted 'Best TV Expert'. Sharron Osbourne for fucks sake! Who the cock thinks she's better than Sir David Attenborough, Simon Schama or Sir Robert Winston!) They put Girls Aloud in the charts and adore people with no discernible talent, especially if they're married to a footballer. They generally are responsible for all the ill and everything that is crass and lifeless in the Britain today.
There, I've said it.

Room 101 (part two).

Gob-smacked. As in, "I was totally gob-smacked I was." Is this a request? It bloody well should be.

Q

How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man?

Room 101 (part one).

I've been thinking about what I'd put into Room 101 (if you've not seen it it's a tv show where famous types try to convince Paul Merton that he should banish the things they hate to the depths of 'Room 101'). It's harder than you'd think, at least I'm finding it harder than I'd thought I would. Maybe I have too sunny a disposition... Ha! Anyhow, I've come up with a few which I'll share with you and I'll add to the list as I go.

1: Toilets in trendy bars.
There's a bar just off Old Street that some designery friends and I used to frequent, I won't mention it by name, that is a prime offender. The problem is that the bar is so trendy Hoxtony that instead of letting you know which bog is which by the ancient and traditional use of a sign on the door (a practice that is recognised across the globe and has stood the test of time I should add) they have liberally applied graffiti to the entire area. It covers the walls and the doors completely. If you are a newcomer you just end up standing there trying to work out where the hell the doors actually are, and when you've conquered that particular problem... which is which.
So many bars do this. They have elaborate grafix on them such as huge male & female logos or, in the case of one Spanish themed pub I once went into, the words "Hombres' & 'Hombras'. Luckily I knew which is which but some wouldn't.
Now this probably sounds like I'm making too much of this but just think about it for a moment. When you're out with friends in a bar,enjoying the company and the pop is flowing you don't always go to the carzy the moment you start to want to, you're having a good chat, you've got something interesting to say so you tend to leave it a bit until you really need to. You stagger off to the little boys/girls room only to be confronted with two doors decorated in some kind of Aztec rune symbolising man or woman. You don't wanna go wobbling off into the ladies' if you're a fella and if you're a chick you sure as hell don't want to see the horror that is a boys toilet. So you stand there scratching you're head, you're bladder becoming ever more insistent waiting for some moment of clarity or for someone to come out and show you the correct path. You're also missing your mates fascinating discourse on the chubby guy at work.
Don't muck us about in our hour of need publicans. Male. Female. Boys. Girls. Ladies. Gents. They're good words and they work.

Just as interesting...

If you were to divide up all the LEGO in the world evenly between us, we'd all have 30 pieces each.

Interesting...

Apparently dogs and cats manufacture their own vitamin C. That's why they always look so smug when you tell one you have a cold.

How true...

Another joke.

Two bishops are in a graveyard when Dracula jumps out and runs at them. The first bishop says to the other bishop, "quick. Show him your cross." So the second bishop says...

.... "FUCK OFF DRACULA!"

Joke.

Man goes to a zoo.
It only has one dog in it.
It was a shitzu.

In defence of...

The gooseberry.
I love gooseberries. I absolutely adore them. In pies or crumbles, as fools or sherberts or just eaten raw straight off the bush the hairy little barstads are fantastic. Everything about them is brilliant, they're so very green with those crazy little stripes and that fine 'hair' that covers them is just crazy and, like all the best berries, the slightly bitter taste that follows the delicious juciness when you bite into one just makes your tongue fizz. Myself I have memories of my childhood home with it's enormous garden that just exploded with berries and fruit from trees and bushes, my favourite of which was our goosberries. My Ma was forever buggering about in the kitchen knocking up fruit pies and berry crumbles whilst Pete & I just pissed around in the garden playing 'Batman & Robin' or 'War' picking the blackberries & gooseberries off the many bushses that grew the whole length of our garden.
So, why do I have to defend them, well I don't recall having seen them for sale this year. The gooseberry season starts in June and I'm pretty certain that I didn't see any in our local Waitrose this year. I also haven't seen many gooseberry related recipes on Jamie Oliver's, Gordon Ramsay's or even Ainsley 'Bloody' Harriot's shows. Are they out of vogue? They may not be as obviously tarty as blackberries, nor do they look as fragrant as a fat juicy strawberry, but believe me they're lovely. They don't have to whore themselves out nor do they need to associate themselves with a major sporting event. Sure they're hairy and yes, green is a pretty unfashionable colour for a berry but these guys rule the roost as far as I'm concerned.