The origin of species - chavs

I had to take a break from my blog on Monday and take a lie down and do some yoga to calm myself down. Well I would do yoga if I could actually stretch down to reach the tips of my toes but unfortunately my fatty midriff sits as a flabby barrier to my goal. I feared that if I blogged on Monday I would potentially write some angry gibberish because this one has made me livid, yes, livid.

So what could it be that has made me so angry, what could have possibly riled me up so badly that I considered yoga? Chavs, the fake Burberry gold chain hoop earring wearing chavs. For those who are lucky enough to not live in this dump we call England I owe you some background, the rise of the chavs has been meteoric. Overnight they seemed to spring up around the towns of the UK as if an alien being had dropped onto earth, fake Burberry their uniform as they plot the downfall of this country.

What is it in particular that makes me so angry? Well if you have to ask you have obviously had the pleasure of never meeting one. 

They seem to think that the world owes them a favour when they have done nothing in return. They have it too bloody easy in this country. They have grown up in a family where their parents haven't had to work, sponging off the state, and in turn they have complete disregard for society and believe they should be looked after by everyone else whilst offering nothing back. Instead they slouch outside the local fried chicken shop shouting obscenities at everyone who walks by.

If you fight back against one of these disrespectful pricks you may be lucky enough to see them walking. It's not a walk a normal person does, no, instead they somehow manage to keep the slouch and stumble towards you dragging one arm by their side like a monkey who just had a stroke. They may even try and communicate with you, it's not English they speak but their own garbled language of words they somehow seem to all understand but is gibberish to most.

So where do these vile creatures come from? Could they really come from out of space. Alas, sigh, it's not as glamorous than that. Is the chav a result of inbreeding? I would say almost categorically, yes. Its the only explanation for the origin of scum.  I bet Darwin never saw this coming.

Non-Celebrities

England, oh England what the hell are you doing?  What have you done to annoy me this time?  Well the list is long and plentiful but today I am going to discuss your obsession with the non celebrity before the throbbing vein on my forehead bursts with all this pent up rage.  My issue is the sheer number of people you idolise who seem to have no discernible talent.  Every country has celebrities sure but England seems to be obsessed with anyone who appears on TV or somehow gets into the public eye no matter how vile they are or how little talent they actually possess.

Crap magazines filled with gossip about the said non celebrities and their awful crappy lives that England can't seem to get enough of.  I don't care if your latest marriage is falling apart, keep it to yourself.  I don't care if you are getting surgery to make your already disgusting breasts even bigger.  I really don't want to read details about which guy you shagged  in order to get a new story for these degenerate publications.  I really couldn't give a crap and neither should anyone else.  These people make a living selling stories of their awful lives and the British public lap it up quicker than Jordan changes her husbands.  The worst part is these people are actually idolised, people want to be just like them.  Instead of aiming to do something positive and fulfilling with your life people now aim to become a celebrity.   

The rise of celebrity shows only seems to make my blood boil even further  Celebrity love island, throw a celebrity out of a plane, send a celebrity to a jungle and watch them suffer.  For the love of god will you please stop with the madness!  They invade every form of media possible, there is no escape. 

We now even have a celebrity classification system for the importance of the celebrity.  A "Z" list celebrity is someone who has appeared on a reality TV show but has done nothing of note since all the way up to an "A" list celeb who appear in Hollywood films.  

Lets take a look at a couple of case studies.  Jordan, the ultimate non celebrity.  She can't sing, she can't act, she can barely string a comprehensible sentence together yet she got her tits out and now she is a multi millionaire.  Kerry Katona, she was briefly in a crappy girl band and has since done nothing of note except being an atrocious mother and nearly killing herself by shoving bags full of coke up her fat nostrils.  Yet these people remain in the public eye and still make the front page of newspapers and magazines as they sell intimate details of their lives for the public to lap up.  Why do we care?  Why do we read about them?  Why the fuck do we idolise these people?

I can't see how this situation is going to get any better.  I am exhausted from crap celebrity overload.  I'm going to have to sit down, close the curtains and hide for a couple of days and hope Jordan's massive breasts or Kerry Katona's drug ravaged nose don't find me during my non celebrity detox.

Shit, the vein just burst.    

Friends from lower socioeconomic groups - are they worth the trouble?

Well I have decided to take a different approach to this post.  Instead of preaching my angry ways onto you I have decided to leave my point as an open question.  Is it worth having friends from a lower socioeconomic group or are they just too much trouble?

Now don't get me wrong, I am not saying that we shouldn't mix with lower classes in the workplace or in other aspects or our lives but should we choose to have them as friends?  I am by now means rich, far from it, but I don't expect the rich to mingle with me.

You may think this is just the blabbering of a mad man but consider this.  Recently I met up with a friend who I hadn't seen for many years.  I was hoping she had married into a different social class or undergone a transformation but it wasn't to be.  She was still the same chav I knew all those years ago.  We started off with a trip to the shopping centre where I was dragged around Primark and other god awful shops.  How you can have a good conscious manufacturing a t-shirt for a pound I have no idea?  But I digress; it then came down to where we should eat.  I offered a few suggestions, a nice Japanese I knew of around the corner (reasonably priced, non offensive menu for everyone) but she assured me she knew somewhere to eat; in her words "it's proper nice".

Please tell me when the hell did Nandos become 'proper nice'?  Fucking Nandos.  I had a dry piece of chicken stuffed into a stale pitta bread with some cold chips and spicy rice.  They didn't even come around to my table to take my order, I had to queue up to order with a bunch of other idiots.  I overheard the conversation of two gold hoop earring wearing track suit wearing girls as they checked their shopping receipts:



"Hang on I think I paid too much, whats ten percent off ten pounds?"
"I think its about seven quid"
"Yeah, they charged me too much, nine quid for it."






Well that was it, I had to leave my friend in the queue whilst I wept in the bathroom over the sheer idiocy of the 'restuarants' patrons.

So, what is the answer to my question?  Well fuck it I'm bored of giving a balanced argument (as I have quite clearly demonstrated above).  They are not worth it, stick with people who don't drag you around shops where the goods are produced by slave labour and eat with people who don't think its acceptable to go to a 'proper nice' restaurant and have to queue for your food.  Call me a snob, I don't care, I know what I like so don't drag me down. 

Vegetarians

Well this was bound to happen. I have been biting my lip for too long, I have kept my opinions to myself and now much like the vegetarians themselves I find myself backed up and constipated so it's time to release and raise my middle finger to all the hippy loving meat free eating vegetarians out there.

My hate for vegetarians is deep rooted and based on more than just their anti meat sentiments. It's the hypocrisy of being a vege that really gets on my wick. Now don't get me wrong I do have, believe it or not, some vegetarians friends (although they are in the firing line for my next friends clear out). This is actually where the problem started; we have to agree to meet at certain restaurants that don't have many stairs because their diet simply doesn't give them the energy to ascend stairs. When they do finally get to their seat and slump down in an exhausted heap, we order the food and almost instantly the eye brow is raised as soon as I mention a meat based dish. Of course as soon as there is a slight raise of an eyebrow or a quiet grunt, I immediately go on the offensive. Yes, if you can believe it, I have a short fuse.

Firstly, it is your choice if you don't want to eat delicious meat. It is not my
choice so keep your opinions to yourself.  Secondly, if you are that bloody concerned about animals why are you wearing leather shoes and have a designer leather handbag. Do you not realise you are wearing animal skin on your feet you stupid hypocritical arse?

Now I don't happen to believe in god, I have an education, but if you do happen to believe in god and you are a vege then answer me this: if god didn't want us to eat meat why would he have made it so damn tasty? Now please don't eat get me started on those bean munching vegans! Have you ever seen a healthy looking vegan, no, because they don't exist.

So to sum up, be a vegetarian by all means, that only leaves more meat for me, but for the love of god please don't preach to me about my love of meat. Next time you do you might just get a pork chop slapped across your face.

Valentines day

I have had the whole weekend to rage over this one, no scrap that, all of my adult life.  This could be the big one, the one that finally breaks the camel back and sends my rage spilling out into the streets of England as I uncontrollably rant, insulting the town folk as I rampage through the villages.

My least favourite day of the year just behind Easter.  No not 9/11, Valentines day.  The day where lovers are legally allowed to make everyone else int he world feel crap about being single and lonely.  But this isn't just one day, no, February is named lovers month.  The build up occurs around mid January as shops are flooded with cuddly heart toys, mountains of cheap cards with dumb arse poems and declarations of love.  The price of roses inexplicably rises to take advantage of those who believe that one day a year they have to woo their lover with shitty gifts  that no-one actually wants.  What is going to happen to the love teddy after February 14th?  It goes to the back of the cupboard along with the repressed feelings of disappointment that their partner no longer satisfies them in bed or actually gives a shit about them anymore.

Walking home from work on Valentines day is not recommended for the singles, do yourself a favour and get a cab that night.  Men and woman clutch desperately onto their shitty gifts showing the world that someone actually cares about them and they are not alone.  In the windows of restaurants are the lovers who like to show the world that despite the fact their sex life dried up a couple of years ago, they can still gaze into each others eyes one day a year and hide all those feelings of disappointment and dissatisfaction that they have been harbouring since last February the 14th.  The streets are filled with couples who cling desperately onto each others hands so that the world doesn't think they are alone on Valentines night.   

Who came up with this concept in the first place?  The greetings cards and gift companies who spotted a dip in their profits margins between Christmas and Easter.  This day isn't about love, its all about money and I say well done to those companies who charge you a disproportionate amount of money for the crappy gifts they import from a sweatshop in China.  Yep, that's real love right there, your £9.99 teddy they bought for 20p from a child who worked 20 hour days just to get your shitty gift ready in time.


So this Valentines day join me in my crusade.  Don't buy any gifts this year, don't give a shitty card that gets binned immediately, don't book at a restaurant who double their prices for one day a year.  Instead this year stick two fingers up to this pointless day.  You have 14 days left to comply or face the full force of my anger.

New year resolutions

Well I'm sure by the time you read this all the fatties won't have lost any weight and gone back to the pie eating ways but this point still needs to be made.  New year resolutions, what is the fucking point?  Every year a bunch of unhappy losers make promises to themselves that they have no chance of keeping:
"I will get thin" 
"I will go to the gym four times a week" 
"I will give up smoking."
Why not make a resolution to stop being a lying twat?

But how does this affect me I hear you ask?  Despite the fact I have to listen to the fat lady Maureen that sits next to me at work jabbering on about how she feels so much better after a week of healthy eating (despite the fact I saw her in Starbucks tucking into a muffin a couple of days ago and so fact there are no signs of weight loss or a decrease in the number of chins that prop up her fat face), they seem to encroach in every part of my life.

I'm not saying I am any Brad Pitt or whoever the  kids are into nowadays but I am smart enough to know that if you eat a balanced healthy diet, don't drink all the time and occasionally drag your tubby lard arse down to the gym, you can maintain a decent weight.  Sit at home watching Jeremy Kyle and eating cheeseburgers and you will soon look like one of his guests.  Instead of following these simple rules it would seem that as soon as the clock strikes twelve on news years, people decide they want to be someone different.  Why this specific change of time seems to have this affect on people I have no clue, perhaps the realisation that the last year of their life has been as dull as every other year of their miserable existence?  Well here is some news for you, nothing is going to change.  You will still be fat, you will still smoke, you will still be dull.

So the problems start when I go to get lunch.  The local McDonald's is suddenly clear of people allowing the excess of fat to seep out into surrounding air.  Instead I find the grease monkeys queued up in my local salad bar, staring at cucumber and tomatoes like they are foreign objects that used to only exist between a burger and a bun.  For most of January my local salad bar is inundated until the fatties get bored and slowly start to wobble back to their local grease hole to get their chubby fill.

Then there is  the small problem of my gym.  Suddenly there is an influx of people deciding that this year they will get fit and healthy.  Sure, fill up my gym for a week, take out a years membership, then f-off by the end of the month and be stuck with a horrendous monthly bill for something you have no intention of using again.  Going to the gym once a month does not give you a reason to eat anything that is put near your greedy lips.

So why not just do us all a favour and skip the resolutions.  If you can't stick to them for more than a couple of weeks don't bother at all, leave me in peace and stop ruining January for me every frigging year.  Know your role in life and fill up the burger joints fatties.  

Political correctness

Well this is odd, I feel clam today and I am nearly running out of things to write about that make me angry. Ha ha as if, that's about as close I get to a joke.   There are so many bloody things that are making me furious today but I barely know where to start?


So whats the most pressing matter on my mind today, oh of course, that sexist moron Andy Gray. Now I know a lot of you might not know what this is about, basically some retired footballer who commented on Sky Sports was sacked for a number of sexist remarks he made about a female linesman...line woman? Who cares, all that matters is that she is a woman doing a mans job (Andy Grays opinion). Did he deserve to be fired for making this remark?  Of course not, as much as I dislike the Scottish, this is political correctness gone mad yet again.

"Why can't woman drive?
Because there is no road between the kitchen and the bedroom."
Andy Gray doesn't make any friends as he speaks at a woman's rights conference.












Does it really matter what some washed up old codger actually thinks about woman linesmen, lines woman, ok I'm going with lines person. Of course it doesn't, just ignore this dinosaur and he might go away but fired from your job, really? How many people can honestly say they haven't made a remark at work that could have got them sacked. Who hasn't called that slag who works in HR the office bike? Who hasn't called their boss an arse licking back stabber?

Lets put an end to this argument, can you look at this photo and not have a good laugh?  Even you feminists might release a little bit of pee as you try your best not to giggle?  Right?  Ok maybe not but most balanced minded people can look at these situations and laugh them off.  Just lighten up people and get on with your boring lives and let the rest of us have a laugh. 

Well as much as I hate political correctness gone mad, one good thing to come out of this is that I don't have to see the overly opinionated Scottish twat on my television every time I want to watch football on my overly expensive Sky TV subscription.  Anyway he can't have been paid much right for what he did.  1.7 million a year you say?  Holy shit on a stick I think I just had a hernia.