Why do some women think that a curled gnarly nail painted in garish colours and topped off with some glitter blobs is acceptable in civilised society because it isn’t. These nails are usually attached to fat fingers on fat hands on a body like jabba the hut. The time wasted on their grotesque talons would be better spent learning the calorific values of their favourite foods and making friends with Mr Lettuce and Mrs Cucumber.
Just who do apples think they are? I am completely fed up with them acting like they are the king of the fruits when the only thing they are king of is the boring fruits. It is a science fact that most apples are sour, this is why there is a jelly bean called sour apple. If apples were sweet then there would be a jelly bean called sweet apple but there isn’t because they aren’t. When you eat apples you end up with bits of skin stuck between your teeth but if this happens you are getting off lightly because if you accidently swallow an apple pip you are almost certain to be killed by the apple tree that will start growing out of your belly button. Apples would be better if they tasted completely different and came in small bite sized portions like grapes. They could be called grapples or they could just be banned altogether and then people would be forced to enjoy proper fruits like pineapples, satsumas and doughnut peaches.
Who invented fascinators? They look completely ridiculous. If you are going to a wedding and feel the need to look like a twat then go ahead, wear a fascinator. However, if you would rather look formal and stylish then get a proper hat or just get a nice hair do. When I see people wearing fascinators, I want to rip them off their stupid heads because fascinators are just hair clips with shit on and people who wear them are stupid.
Why do taps, showers and plughole covers have to be so complicated in fancy hotels? I need an instruction manual in order to work out how to use these devices which should be intuitive but because they aren’t I end up feeling and looking like a complete dunderhead. What is wrong with simple turning tap and plugs that are lumps with chains on? And I don’t like taps that have one spout and one turny thing for the hot AND the cold, these things blow my mind and don’t get me started on showers. If I find myself in a hotel that doesn’t have a bath, that only has a dreaded shower then I simply don’t wash. It is just too dangerous.
I don’t believe those sand sculptures that you see tramps making in the street are real. They are always of the same lying down dog with floppy ears. I believe that they are made of plastic with a few grains of sand stuck on them to fool the general public but they don’t fool me and whenever I see one of these fraudsters I take a photo and text it to 999.
Rule One: Leggings should not be manufactured in sizes greater than a UK size 10. If this was made law then this rant would not exist.
Rule Two: If you are larger than a UK size 10 don’t wear leggings.
Rule Three: If you are larger than a UK size 10 and you must wear leggings then make sure your top is long enough to completely cover your back bum slit and your front bum slit even when you bend over. Especially when you bend over.
Rule Four: If you are larger than a UK size 10 and wear leggings and a top that does not fully cover your back and front bum slits then please refrain from doing your shopping in my tesco between 4:30 and 5:30 pm on a Thursday. If I have to endure the sight of you waddling up and down the aisles slouched over your trolley like a hunchback Mr Blobby once more then I won’t be responsible for my actions.
Why do Post Office counter women think they are your best friend when you become a ‘regular’ because you have to post your ebay packages at their counter once a week? When the woman starts asking me personal questions like, ‘how are you?’ I know it is time to move on to a new post office because there are plenty more post offices in the sea except that there aren’t. Soon, my only option will be to grimace through these interrogation sessions whilst biting the inside of my cheek very hard or expand my catchment area to fifty miles. I know old people love this chatting shit and I am sure that post office workers are providing a wonderful service for our brave OAPs but I wish they would leave me the fuck alone.
Why do people not understand the etiquette of till leftovers? You join the queue at the supermarket and you start putting your shit on the conveyor belt when you notice some items piled up on the shelf bit at the end that aren’t on the conveyor belt and don’t seem to belong to anybody. They don’t seem to belong to anybody because they don’t belong to anybody so don’t say ‘are these yours?’ to the person ahead of you because if they were theirs then they’d be with the rest of their stuff wouldn’t they and they wouldn’t be on the shelf at the end. All normal people know this, you ignore the till leftovers, you glance at them and then you forget about them. The next person who asks me if ‘these are yours’ is going to get the till leftovers shoved up their pongpipe.
Why do people keep trying to have a mobile phone conversation when they are on a train that keeps going through tunnels? I was sitting next to some student twat the other day who was wearing a duffle coat and had a Scooby Doo bag and he was wittering on on his mobile phone but he kept getting cut off and the stupid bastard kept ringing back only to get cut off again and again and it was doing my head in so much that I fantasised about grabbing his phone and throwing it out of the window. I bet he fails all his exams because he doesn’t have the intelligence to know when a text message would be a more appropriate form of communication. I bet he says movie instead of film.
How about a car sticker that goes in the back of cars in front of shit car stickers warning you not to read the shit one? Even worse than ‘powered by fairy dust’ is the one that I had the misfortune to see today: ‘only one more shopping day till tomorrow’. As well as being hideously shallow, it portrays a stereotype of women as zombies trolling around shopping centres drooling over shoes and bags when what they should really be doing is drooling over a dictionary on the page with ‘til’ on it.