I’ve always been the youngest in my family, so I’ve never had to interact with kids all that much; but after four years living with my girlfriend and not far from her family, of whom she is the eldest in her generation, I’m forced to interact with young kids an awful lot.

Now here’s the thing. I’m occasionally roped into ‘helping out’ when it comes to entertaining them; and I’m fine with that, honestly, it’s cool. However, every now and then, this will evolve into more than looking at a drawing or throwing them up in the air, and I’ll perhaps be forced to play a board game with them… And therein lies the problem.
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I was strolling through town a couple of days ago, pretending I wasn’t late for work, when I came across an unusual sight. There was a young lady who looked no older than maybe twelve or thirteen. She had giant sunglasses and a backwards cap, a ‘top’ that was barely more than a bra (I think it’s called a ‘boob tube’ or something)’ and a pair of shorts that she had fashioned by cutting the legs of some jeans. Now the thing that struck me about the jean-shorts was that the desperate girl had cut them so short that her pocket linings were clearly hanging down her thighs.

This isn’t a rant about how twelve year olds shouldn’t be forced into the mindset of having to dress provocatively at their age; I’ve done that shtick before (see here), this is just about how badly I can’t reconcile what I consider to look acceptable, with what other people wear…

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This article has the added bonus of containing a back story!

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FELIX: We should have a chat again sometime, Ian. About, uhh… I don’t know, anything. The Egyptian revolution.


IAN: Fuck’s sake. Not all that. Sphinx an’ Pyramids an’ shit. What came first, the sand or the stone?


FELIX: Yup, that’ll do. That’s the Egyptian revolution covered.


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I was serving a kindly old man at the bar today. He had come for lunch, as he has often done since his wife died recently. He’s probably near 90 and, despite his frailty, is always very nice and polite and funny. Today when he came, there was a little boy screaming and shouting in […]

The year is 2012. The ancient Mayans famously predicted that the world would end. I’ll never know what I was going to be when I got older. They said that on the 21st of December, we would all die. It’s sad, but it’s true. Everyone, this is the last year we have to live our […]

After I wrote a joke on my Twitter involving the word ‘aeroplane‘, I received a response from one of my followers, politely informing me that it was in fact correctly spelled ‘airplane‘. Obviously I was very cordial in then informing them that ‘airplane‘ was the Americanised spelling of the word, and they conceded that “there is an exception if you are British.”, although frankly, that should certainly be the other way around!

Anyway, I bring this up not to have a go at someone misguidedly trying to correct my spelling, but rather at what it made me think about afterwards. I hate to admit it, especially since most of my followers are American, but there is and has always been in Britain, this ever-present stereotype that Americans are stupid; just as American television suggests that Americans hold a stereotype that British people are pompous wimps with bad teeth; it’s fine, those with an opinion that actually matter are usually smart enough to understand the fallacy in negative stereotypes.

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