Author Archives: Antikrish

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About Antikrish

For answers to all the questions you didn't know you had! www.antikrish.com

Lucky number seven

I sit writing this particular entry in my newly decorated room (Gallery with images will appear on the site tomorrow sometime), it’s all rather glam I have to say.

Today is my Dad’s birthday, and it’s something of a tradition for me to enjoy the very simple things in life that my old man taught me were so important. I started the day having a longer lie in bed, listened to the blackbirds singing out in our back garden for a bit and then eventually got up, had a bacon sandwich…..actually, I had two but who’s counting? When I read that back it reminds me of lyrics to a Karen “I’ll show them I’m fat!!!” Carpenter song?

I had hoped to get out and head to the coast on the bike this morning, however Jack Frost and bike wheels aren’t the best of friends so I gave that a miss. In all honesty I still have so much stuff to put back into my room after decorating and need to get all that back in here; the contents of my bedroom have been languishing in the spare room since my little project began just over a week ago.

So right now I have all of my DVDs and games strewn out over my double bed; in true Antikrish O.C.D. stylee I have to evaluate them into rarely used, occasionally used and frequently used before I stick them up on the shelves. Having spoken to a few chums today I think I might actually be a bit odd doing this? I actually feel a bit reluctant putting all the stuff back in here; I no longer want all the crap cluttering things up. Plus, there are less expensive/cluttered ways of acquiring games and films these days??!?! Yoink, yoink, yoink.

Now I have popped the F.A. Cup footy on………I have a feeling that it’s going to be a day of happy procrastination………

Hope you all enjoy your Sunday, whatever you’re doing.

Happy birthday Dad 🙂 x

Don’t leave that mate or I’ll nick it!

Having endured a non-selective standard high school education, I’m rather partial to using cockney colloquialisms; especially around my South London born chum Ray.

Ray, or Brick Top as I like to call him, is absolutely riddled with Camberwell clichè; my Dad was from the area and used the same expressions. Oddly comforting.

One term I’ve not heard in AGES is to ‘Chor’ something. Chor is a cheeky cockney word for stealing, ch as is cheese and or as in board. You heard it a lot around my school, especially outside the local cornershop at lunchtime!

“Where d’ya get them custard creams Wes?!?”

“I chored ’em off the Paki’s didni!!!”

Ah, how I look back fondly on my school years, the acorn fights, the stealing, the truancy. Sorry, I digress.

What I didn’t expect was Hitesh, my Hindu speaking colleague, to explain that Chor is in fact an Indian word with the same meaning.

The irony, whities stole the Hindu word for steal?!?? Ha ha ha ha!!!

I’m no longer surprised when I learn that something I had considered a localism in fact then turns out to have colonial origins; it’s pretty funky? Whatever next….

LEGAL DISCLAIMER

The use of the word ‘Paki’ in this thread, and the name ‘Wes’ are both for theatrical and artistic purposes only.

Any similarity to a racist South Londoner called Wesley Bain is purely coincidental.

Selfish prick on my bus

I’m sitting on a bus waiting to go home after a 10 hour overtime shift; unfortunately for me, a complete prick is holding us all up over a row with the driver.

The oiks argument is that he wishes to pay the £2 fare using a £20 note. The bus driver asked him to get change and hop on the next bus due in 8 minutes.

Even more unfortunate for the bus driver is that the inconsiderate prat is refusing to be considerate of the 40 or so passengers on here. Refusing to comply, off goes the engine and lights; an argument ensues and now I’m starting to get annoyed.

The simpleton is clearly using a tried method of producing a £20 note knowing the driver has no float having just left the garage; and everyone else uses the oyster card scheme these days.

As I consider this, my annoyance ebbes away; I am happy to wait whilst the driver takes his stand…..and……hooray…..in a flurry of Sarf Lundun (South London) taboo, the miscreant disembarks.

I smile at him as we pull away.

Cunt.

(Twat in the White top).

Rear entrance

Access to my office’s main reception will be restricted over the next couple of days due to some construction work that’s currently going on.

Being a considerate chap; I thought I’d ask the ladies next to me if they minded using the rear entrance and I got looked at like I was Gary Glitter.

Some people eh?!?

Slippery when wet

Two ‘wet floor’ signs have brought some much needed amusement to my otherwise run of the mill Monday morning; I have always found the illustrations on such signs genuinely funny, especially the ‘death by electricity’ types’.   These two offerings have clearly been purchased from the local pound shop.

EXHIBIT A

This one looks like a flash git doing tricks on a bouncy castle at a childs birthday party. There’s always a twat like this isn’t there?!?

EXHIBIT B

The other appears to be a temptress who is in the middle of crossing her leg over in a dubious fashion; obviously having just given the man on the picnic blanket near her a glimpse of her beaver, all whilst his brassy wife sips a glass of old fasioned lemonade.

The slut!

NHS physio, day 1

I’ve arrived a little early for my appointment at St Helier hospital today to begin the NHS physiotherapy treatment; gone are the beautiful White halls of private healthcare, hello stinky 1970’s decor.

Of course, the NHS is a ‘luxury’ that most people around the world do not have. My simple answer to that is stop having military coups, refrain from shooting each other and build some hospitals!?!!

My cynical mood isn’t helped by the fact that I have an extremely annoying elderly Asian couple sitting across from me in the waiting room.

The old woman is loudly conversing in her native tongue and ocassionally making strange teeth kissing noises (which sounds like a cricket with piles) to seemingly add emphasis to whatever shit she’s going on about!!!

Her male companion is just staring into space, presumably hoping that he will die soon and escape the monotone nagging. I especially love his hat; he reminds me of Grandad from ‘Only Fools And Horses’.

“Hello Delhi Boy!!!”.

I have now found myself guessing which of them needs physio. It’s rather like the awful involuntary thought which makes you consider what disability someone has in the Paralympics; and why someone with no legs can fairly be matched against a runner with one full leg and a prosthetic?

I genuinely will laugh if I see either of them use the trampoline. One thing I’d REALLY like to do is adjust her scarf, it annoys me profusely.

And I thought I’d escaped such OCD’s…..oh well, he we go more tip toe exercises in front of a mirror!!

P.s. Pic attached of said couple.