Category Archives: Editorials

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.

Wiffy

I find myself in an inherently negative mood this afternoon; and feel sufficiently angry about my ‘cup half empty’ mood to pour my soul out forthwith.

My morning kicked off to the tune of physiotherapy; a steady Bebop in 3/4 time, which upon reflection, was most definitely missing some serious horn factor.

Being pulled about and having various contraptions fitted to ones limbs is an altogether odd experience which you tend to just get on with, even if it involves standing on tip toes in front of a mirror.

What has annoyed me more is that I began the day feeling chuffed because I would be starting my treatment; I very much want to get back to ‘normal’ and rediscover the many simple freedoms that my life is without at the moment. Swimming being one of them.

An odd thing happened when I got back to my desk around lunchtime; our facilities department were searching around trying to find the source of a lingering bad odour somewhere around my department. A smell which can only be described as mutated cat sick.

Floor carpet tiles have been replaced, ceiling tiles lifted, air con vents inspected; so you can imagine my absolute HORROR when I found my cup hidden underneath my shelf which had a vast culture of bacteria in it….

The search party looked at me with the sharpest daggers and the offending ‘chunky monkey’ cup was promptly removed by a very disgruntled colleague.

Everyone around me laughed and I honestly felt like dying as the office environment descended into something akin to a medieval lynch mob who were itching to throw their rotten tomatoes.

In a brief second, I transcended from ‘Office Prankster Public Enemy No1’ to ‘that dirty bastard with the mug’. As someone who takes their personal cleanliness to OCD levels I quickly lost my cool, got uppity with people who took the piss which isn’t really ‘me’ at all.

I feel so embarassed; it’s a moment when you want the ground to open and swallow you up?

Now that I’ve vented a little I feel more of a prat than anything, I GENUINELY do not know how or when the mug found it’s way under the shelf, but I do know that I should have reacted a little generously, especially with it being my fault.

Oh to wind back the clocks.

If I care to be very honest, this day marks the fifth anniversary of my fathers passing, it is something I swore that I shall not observe because I think such things hold someone back.

Compared to that and all the other crap people put up with; well, it just made me feel a silly sod for reacting so immaturely; I eventually reasoned that I’ll just stick two fingers up at it all and get on with it as is normally my custom.

V <———Two fingered salute.

Poppas got a brand new peg

Just back from hospital; the consultant type chap says that I will make a full recovery after a course of physiotherapy lasting approximately 3 months. Very relieved to say the least.

My only slight gripe today was the delivery of the specialists diagnosis. Seriously now, how long can it take a medical practioner to tell you if things will be ok; or if you’ve screwed the pooch? Get to the point man!!!

Seems simple to me, compassionate simplicity first, sciency bit second and recovery plan third. Why do intellectuals struggle with basic people skills?

Still, things turned out nice again!?! Won’t be long before I’m back on the road; firmly on my bike rather than my arse!!!!