Lucy and I took a depressingly farcical bus journey today, getting on the wrong bus and having to go to Honiton and back instead of our desired destination of Exeter.
When we were in Honiton, the bus was swamped with loads of school chlidren on their way home. After what I said last time, I'm probably not allowed to call them vermin, am I? But they certainly seemed like shrill, sticky, convulsing, oblivious little maggots. I suppose that's what happens when your parents are brother and sister (Westcountry stereotype joke #12)*.
*The first 11 in the list concern deviant acts in custard.
Anyway, it reminded me how much I appreciate not having to go to school anymore. Few things fill me with more pleasure than seeing the shop windows displaying 'back to school' sales at the end of August, and realising that I don't have to go through the ordeal of trying on scratchy school uniform and pretending to be excited by novelty pencil cases (well, ok, those fruit pastille ones were pretty cool).
"Your schooldays are the best time of your life" is something said by sadists and amnesiacs. When I have kids, I'm going to level with them and say "school is the worst time of your life", and give them credit for overcoming the ordeal.
Apart from the obvious horrors like pointless lessons, and power-mad teachers, it should not be forgotten that ninety percent of school children are cunts (if you went to my school, I'm sure you were one of the good ten percent). Relentlessly cruel, they're more concerned with conformity than an anally-retentive Marxist computer. You can't do or say anything unless your sure most of your classmates feel the same. When I innocently asked "does anyone else dress up as Marie Antionette and sing Cole Porter songs?", suddenly I was labelled "the weird one". Unbelievable.
That last thing isn't true.
It was Gilbert and Sullivan.
Anyway, the point is: it's great to be above school age. The best time in your life is University. You have the lack of responsiblity of childhood combined with the coke and whores of adulthood. Brilliant.
***
Seagull update:
They're gone! I don't know where, but it seems they're out on their own. I did see a young seagull out the front of our house. I said hello, but he blanked me. He probably couldn't hear me because he was listening to his iPod. I promised myself I wouldn't cry...
***
Come back next time for my excellent idea for a series of children's books (and no, it's not just pictures of my genitals, you sicko!)
Showing posts with label Seagulls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seagulls. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
Sunday, 8 July 2007
The chicks love me
The seagulls are back! I spoke about them being evicted below, but the seagull chicks have found their way back into our garden. The smallest one seemed to have been attacked in the outside world. Even my dad caved in and gave it some food and drink. They may now become fixtures in the garden. Squawking, defecating fixtures.
This of course raises ethical questions. Should we keep feeding them? We know it's bad, and they need to be exposed to the outside world, but we don't want them do die in the wilderness (especially if they're attacked by the seagull mafia again). It's a tricky situation.
On the same topic, fuck people who call seagulls vermin. These are the same people who say squirrels are vermin. And that punching toddlers in the kidneys builds character.
Seagulls and squirrels and rats and pigeons aren't vermin, they're just trying to survive. We're as much vermin as they are. In fact more so, as we're destroying the planet. And putting on charity concerts to recognise the fact; concerts so depressing I feel like pumping endangered animals with toxic waste and personally destroying the polar ice-caps with a chisel and a cigarette lighter.
***
I'm much more positive about life than the above comments indicate. So to redress the balance, here's a highly amusing video:
***
The seagull saga may continue. If you see me flying through the night sky with a gull strapped to each foot, it's probably me.
Probably.
This of course raises ethical questions. Should we keep feeding them? We know it's bad, and they need to be exposed to the outside world, but we don't want them do die in the wilderness (especially if they're attacked by the seagull mafia again). It's a tricky situation.
On the same topic, fuck people who call seagulls vermin. These are the same people who say squirrels are vermin. And that punching toddlers in the kidneys builds character.
Seagulls and squirrels and rats and pigeons aren't vermin, they're just trying to survive. We're as much vermin as they are. In fact more so, as we're destroying the planet. And putting on charity concerts to recognise the fact; concerts so depressing I feel like pumping endangered animals with toxic waste and personally destroying the polar ice-caps with a chisel and a cigarette lighter.
***
I'm much more positive about life than the above comments indicate. So to redress the balance, here's a highly amusing video:
***
The seagull saga may continue. If you see me flying through the night sky with a gull strapped to each foot, it's probably me.
Probably.
Thursday, 5 July 2007
Brain Gravel
Lucy and I have been working on combining all the different proverbs relating to Rome. Something like "When in Rome, all roads lead to Nero fiddling in a day". I think it merits future thought.
***
We had two baby seagulls trapped in our back garden that had evidently fallen from their nest. We were worried they might die, so we put out water and bits of bread. My dad ushered them out the back gate, though, so they're gone. I hope they're still alive, and don't resent being ousted. Maybe they are able to live life to the full now, getting in with the cool seagull crowd. I just hope that, years from now, if they see us passing below, they'll remember our kindness and not shit on our heads. That would be nice.
***
I'm compiling a list of people that should be killed, blatantly ripping off of George Carlin. His list included people who say 'sounds like a plan!', which I found curiously amusing.
I would add the following:
- people who have been to 'the university of life'
- people who, when you say 'I'll try', respond by saying 'Don't try. Just do it'.
***
If you're ever particularly bored, particularly at work if you can only visit certain sites (ie. no porn), it's always good to go to the BBC website's Have Your Say section (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/talking_point/default.stm) and revel in the bigotry and ignorance of the British people. It really is quite entertaining, especially on issues such as smoking, imigration or gender inequality. I used to read these in a combination of anger and amusement, astonished by the world.
***
I've realised that Americans don't like sports. They like the atmosphere of sports and the athleticism; the merchandise and the extra-curicular nonsense, but they don't really care about the action. That's why in baseball and American football (which I enjoy, by the way), the actual play lasts for a fraction of the time, and everything else takes ages. It's also why they don't like football (there must be a reason). I think it's something to do with a lack of attention span.
This is also why they're so good at athletics. It's the drama and beauty of a sport broken down into its constituent parts, short and isolated. They also probably like poetry better than prose for this reason. Of course, i have no reason to think this, and no evidence. Also, I HATE generalisations based on nationality.
I should have given this more thought.
***
I'm sorry for rambling. Next time I'll be more consistent. Maybe I'll write a mini murder-mystery play based around the 'Live Earth' concerts. James Blunt can be killed. Tune in next time to find out. (Tune?)
***
We had two baby seagulls trapped in our back garden that had evidently fallen from their nest. We were worried they might die, so we put out water and bits of bread. My dad ushered them out the back gate, though, so they're gone. I hope they're still alive, and don't resent being ousted. Maybe they are able to live life to the full now, getting in with the cool seagull crowd. I just hope that, years from now, if they see us passing below, they'll remember our kindness and not shit on our heads. That would be nice.
***
I'm compiling a list of people that should be killed, blatantly ripping off of George Carlin. His list included people who say 'sounds like a plan!', which I found curiously amusing.
I would add the following:
- people who have been to 'the university of life'
- people who, when you say 'I'll try', respond by saying 'Don't try. Just do it'.
***
If you're ever particularly bored, particularly at work if you can only visit certain sites (ie. no porn), it's always good to go to the BBC website's Have Your Say section (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/talking_point/default.stm) and revel in the bigotry and ignorance of the British people. It really is quite entertaining, especially on issues such as smoking, imigration or gender inequality. I used to read these in a combination of anger and amusement, astonished by the world.
***
I've realised that Americans don't like sports. They like the atmosphere of sports and the athleticism; the merchandise and the extra-curicular nonsense, but they don't really care about the action. That's why in baseball and American football (which I enjoy, by the way), the actual play lasts for a fraction of the time, and everything else takes ages. It's also why they don't like football (there must be a reason). I think it's something to do with a lack of attention span.
This is also why they're so good at athletics. It's the drama and beauty of a sport broken down into its constituent parts, short and isolated. They also probably like poetry better than prose for this reason. Of course, i have no reason to think this, and no evidence. Also, I HATE generalisations based on nationality.
I should have given this more thought.
***
I'm sorry for rambling. Next time I'll be more consistent. Maybe I'll write a mini murder-mystery play based around the 'Live Earth' concerts. James Blunt can be killed. Tune in next time to find out. (Tune?)
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