So just what is it with Superdry t-shirts and their sizing, then? I mean, I know they’ve got that Japanese retro thing going on, but is it really necessary to size clothes so that ‘medium’ equates to about 5ft nothing with waist and chest sizes that would seem more appropriate as collar sizes? No: It’s stupid – and I’ll be glad when the tide of fashion has turned against them and their overpriced, undersized products and normal service has been resumed.
And the same applies to ‘skinny jeans’, which look good on around 10% at most of the people currently wearing them and pretty bloody awful on everyone else. Had I not used it just a couple of weeks ago to illustrate the insanity of women injecting themselves in the arse with bathroom sealant and superglue I’d have dug out my stock photo of Kenny Everett impersonating Rod Stewart to make my point, but as I did I won’t. Instead I’ll just remind all skinny jean wearers that unless you fall precisely within the correct weight-to height-to-build ratio – which has a leeway of about three ounces tops either way, making it highly improbable – you’re more likely to look like Max Wall or a pair of burst skool sossidges from behind than you are to look like Kate Moss or Russell Brand. Continue reading “Trying to Find a Happy Medium…”
…and Madonna, and anyone else who sets us up in song to believe that a (so) nice holiday would be the perfect way to inject some fun and excitement into our dull and humdrum lives. As the parent of a fifteen year old (next week, actually, but to call him fourteen until then seems churlish) I’ve got up almost every day for the past week or so, looked up into the grey skies overhead and muttered ‘bugger’, cursing skool holidays, cursing Sir Cliff and Madge et al and cursing the unrealistic expectation they’ve forced upon me to deliver ‘fun and laughter for a week or two’ without the aid of a double-decker bus, Una Stubbs and the camp little bloke from It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum. I mean, it’s a tall order, ennit?
Adding to that frustration, the skool hols kicked off this time with the totally unexpected gift of blistering sunshine. Reader’s of my blog two weeks ago may remember my vow to ‘make hay while the sun shines’, and the sore arse and shoulder I was suffering as a consequence of a week spent cycling around the local parks and lakes and dragging Ben’s clubs around a variety of local golf courses while he played replace-the-divot and hunt-the-lost-ball. We knew even then it couldn’t last, but we weren’t expecting it to be over quite so quickly. Continue reading “I BLAME CLIFF RICHARD…”
Despite my best intentions the week got away from me AGAIN and I haven’t got a blog written. That’s skool holidays for you…
Out of curiosity I looked back to my very first blog on the OU website to see if my blogging style has developed. The short answer is no. Actually, that’s the long answer too. That said, it’s only been a couple of years, which came as a bit of a shock. If it seems longer for you, dear reader, that’s nowt to how it feels to me…
Anyhoo, here in all its glory my very first blog, from 31st October 2010…
My son and his BFF are downstairs killing zombies and aliens on the X-Box so I’m confined to barracks for the duration. I could, of course, spend the time revising or even just reading the course materials, but that seems far too sensible a way to spend a Sunday morning. Besides, it’s hard to concentrate when you can hear two giggly teenagers farting and belching in the background as they chase school friends dressed in body armour across the surface of some distant planet or slash the throat of a groaning zombie Nazi who’s managed to get too close for even short arm firearms to be effective. Continue reading “Is It Halloween Already?”
Gosh it’s hot. Not that you’ll find me complaining, but gosh, it’s hot. I’m sure it’s not that much hotter than other hot summer days I’ve enjoyed in the past, but the never-ending winter and huge downpours preceding this lovely sunny spell seem to have thrown out my internal barometer. Either that, or I’ve been eating too much tuna and the mercury has got to me. But as I say, you won’t find me complaining, and I’ll be perfectly happy if god/mother nature/whoever decides to keep the stat up to max for the next five or six weeks or so too, because if there is one thing that I and all parents know it is that SKOOL HOLIDAYS AND FOUL WEATHER DO NOT MIX!
But gosh it’s hot… Continue reading “GOSH, IT’S HOT…”
Blimey! Did you read in the paper about those insane women in America who have been injecting their arses with an illegal mixture of silicone and superglue in an effort to achieve rear ends that look like Buster Gonad’s gonads?
Sadly, one of them – a British girl, who flew out with three of her mates to the good ol’ US of A especially for the procedure – has now ironically achieved the five minutes of fame she was undoubtedly hoping to achieve via the surgery by dying under the knife on the operating table just a few hours after receiving treatment. Well I say, ‘knife’ but obviously I mean hyperdeemic nurdle / turkey baster, and when I say ‘operating table’ it’s more likely to have been a grubby towel lain on the bare floor tiles of the hotel bathroom where the procedure took place.
Actually, thinking about it, even that is probably an overstatement – chances are she would have breathed her last bent double over a tatty sofa with her arse sticking out in the breeze like an over-inflated soufflé while some evil bint with the morals of a snake prodded and poked at her from behind with all the care and consideration of a Rentokil operative disposing of a poisoned rat. Continue reading “HEY FATTY BUM BUM, LET ME TELL YOU SUMT’ING…”