Marcus: Who’d have thought there was a bus operating in Knowl Hill! I’m genuinely taking the bus to Maidenhead right now! Me: My phone accidentally deleted all my numbers, but I’ll assume that this is Marcus, the only person uninteresting enough to text me things about bus routes. Does this mean that your morning commute […]
There are a lot of reasons why I should hate them, I’ll be honest. Like their neighbours in the land of rock-that-clearly-isn’t-actually-rock music, Coldplay, the Chili Peppers are one of those bands so devoid of personality, that it takes a not-unsubstantial portion of my energy just to hear someone say their name. It’s one of those easy-answer ‘favourite bands’ that are loved by people who aren’t so much fans of the music, but rather just fans of not having to sit in terrifying silence. The spider-feet guitar sounds mixed with the odd clunking bass and the nasal dross that makes up the vocals all congeal into a thick grey paste of oozing weariness that… I’ve just remembered that this wasn’t what this post was supposed to be about. Continue reading
Me: Yes, mother?
Mum: I didn’t text you, so what does ‘yes, mother’ mean? Mind you, it’s always nice to hear from you.
Me: I had a missed call from you earlier. Was that not you? My phone says it was you, and my phone never lies, mother.
Mum: I didn’t call, and I certainly didn’t call early in the morning. I must have sat on my phone or something.
Me: Have you been murdered? Am I now speaking to the person who killed you after you tried calling me for help? Admit it. You have to tell me if that’s true. Come on, man; don’t be a dick.
Mum: I can’t be a dick, I’m a girl; and also, I’m fairly sure that I’m alive. Maybe it was a call from a parallel world.
Me: But why would they have called me? On purpose, you think; or maybe it was solar interference scrambling the satellite signals. Maybe you were calling me from the future. You can’t disprove that.
Mum: Okay, whatever. I’m busy internet shopping. Don’t make me think, it’s scary.
Me: Yeah, the thought of you thinking does chill me to the bone. Tell your knock-off handbags I said hi.
Mum: Handbags are cheaper than psychiatrists.
Me: In your case, however, they clearly aren’t as effective.
Mum: That’s only because I haven’t found the right one.
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Manager (female): I’ve put the new girl on the bar with you tonight, so no distracting her. Me: What do you mean ‘distracting’? Manager: You just… have a way of distracting the female staff. Me: Do I? Manager: You do. Me: How? Manager: You just… do. So don’t. Me: Well, how can I not do […]
I’m super sick, you guys. All flu-ey and shit. Anyway, I emerged from my bed/hovel to get some food, knowing that I’m not well enough to leave the house to buy any (even though I still have to go to work in a couple of hours), and managed to find three eggs. That’s all. Literally, […]
I know, right? Sounds weird? It’s true. I think it’s the hair and the necklaces or whatever, but at least once a shift when I’m working on the bar, someone will say ‘Hey, man! Are you in a band? You look like you’re in band! I bet you’re in a band!’, and I have to […]
A few handy hints for the on-the-go traveller who is far too busy (being an important, big shot man/woman-about-town, no doubt) to make time for the dreary underling, the tedious former associate, or the slightly mental, and (as you’ve just remembered) weirdly clingy ex-partner. Continue reading
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