I’d love to travel and see the wonders of the world but I just can’t afford it. If I had my way air miles would be proportional to how nice you were in day to day life rather than how much you’d just been ripped off in John Lewis. My air miles system would work like this. Really nice people would make it around the world and because they were so nice have a much bigger appreciation for it all. They’d see the wonders of the world first hand and say very nice things about them. Quite nice people would only make it as far as mainland Europe, Spain for example. The barrel scrapers of the planet, drunks, drugies, the cranially challenged, people from Scotland and kids with ASBO’s would only make it as far as places like Blackpool…
…but that would never happen.
The only wonder of the world I’ve seen is the Grand Canyon,…. it was shit. If I’d have known it was just an endless trench visible from space I would have saved my money, stayed at home and watched the gas board dig up the main road, again. Seriously, forget Stonehenge and Roman aqueducts, the exposed pipe work currently on display at the end of our street is positively Jurassic. Pot Noodle containers found at the bottom have been carbon dated back to the when gas was affordable by OAPs!! The shopping trolleys that were uncovered date back to before the pedestrianisation period and possibly life itself. It was from this and other similar discoveries that we get the saying “On a busy high street with a trench no one can hear you drop your trolleys”.
The biggest wonder of the world is the mystery behind footballers salaries. How is it a spotty teenager can rack up millions in just a few years for kicking a ball around competitively for 90mins every Saturday?
I’m not jealous. Actually, I am jealous, jealous that they have ‘a skill’.
Everyone has one special skill, one talent that they can do better than any other mortal. It might be kicking a football, it might be changing nappies in the dark, it might be watching an entire “Someone’s got talent” type show on the Sky planner without once reaching for the fast forward button.
My special skill is being phenomenally good at being slightly above average at everything I do. Take this blog/ramble/collection of words you’re reading/skimming through. By the time you get to the end I can guarantee you, you’ll be having thoughts like, ‘it was alright’, ‘I’ve read better’, ‘what’s for tea tonight?’.
If you enjoyed the start then I’m sorry, you’re going to be hideously disappointed by the end. The end has to be crap to even out any goodness which may have accidentally crept in to the earlier stuff, and thus creating a flimsy pamphlet of offerings only slightly above average quality.
At this point though you might be thinking what a moaning mini, why doesn’t he cheer up? If this tosh doesn’t get better in the next few lines I’m off for a pooh.
You’re right of course, but then you’re the sort of person that probably spotted this was all a poor excuse for a winge a long time ago. You already know that if this were a book you’d only find it in the “Everything’s a quid” bin at Michael Wood services on the M6 (southbound). There’s no way you would have paid full whack for this, not even in paperback. You’re the sort of crazy renegade maverick that makes me look only slightly above average.
I hate you.
It’s not your fault you’re so awesome, not when there’s muppets like me around. I once spent two hours crying over some biscuits because it said ‘tear here’.