Tag Archives: dumb

Thick and stupid people, uncultured people and the average joe…

10 May

No imagination

How I long to tell 90% of the people I unhappily co-exist with that their presence in my world does nothing but annoy me, and little but bore me poop’less.

Talking behind my back

Just recently while in conversation with a current work colleague who had enjoyed an evening in the company of another truly thick and dimensionless ex work colleague of mine the ‘new’ work colleague proffered an opinion based on information gleaned while drinking cheap beer in a local ‘Social Club’ (for that replace with ‘people with nothing on their minds but where to find the cheapest pint in town Club’) that there was … and I quote ‘no way I could have had enough time to do all the things I ‘claim’ to have done in my life.

What do you do all day?

I have always felt that I have done very little of worth with the time I have spent thus far on our planet; though I have written for and led as the frontman a well received rock band, collected music to the point of being invited to lecture a University course on popular music, danced in one of England’s greatest revival Morris Dancing sides, have got a degree in fine art, had countless jobs of varying descriptions, managed to breed and teach myself how to design websites virtually at the same time. I have toured the UK on one occasion with another band that was signed to top record labels and appeared at Glastonbury a number of times, that Paul McCartney championed.

I had the joy to grow up in an North American city and have met some famous musicians related to the music from that city. I have organised and run a three-day ‘Hippie’ festival. I have suggested songs for inclusion in popular films. I have a friend who won an Oscar only a couple of years ago. My wife worked on some of the top Soaps and long running Dramas in the UK and continues to keep in contact with many of those involved…. the list of incursions into ‘doing stuff’ and ‘being mildly interesting’ goes on.

The thing is…. why does this piss me off so heartily?

They’re thick, dumb, plain, boring and capable of little else but the imagination it takes to watch the Television every night, so why does it piss me off to be so judged by one (or two) of their ilk.

Because…  it takes someone as truly ignorant as they to have the balls and the confidence to make such a statement; that they are so self secure in their knowledge in the world and the truth that it holds (for them) that they can form opinions such as these and spout them out as truths makes me bloody angry.


And what really gets to me is how scared it makes me feel, when I stop to think that it is they that are the majority, the average, the common man and the inheritors of this world’s future!

Ignorance is bliss

Ignorance must truly be bliss, because having the intelligence to know what a bunch of assholes 90% of those I have the misfortune to rub up against in my daily travails are is something even I might trade with ‘mildly entertaining’ for ‘ossifyingly boring and stunningly ignorant’, just in order that I might go through life believing that I am not surrounded by twats. An option to be taken as infinitely preferable should you wish to remain un-irritated by their presence in your life.

God I despair.


Middle Class Chickens It’s Clucking Madness!

15 Oct

While in conversation with a friend recently I was reminded of a subject I’ve been meaning to discuss for sometime now, and that is the Urbanisation of Chickens, as driven by some warped notion by the Middle Classes that they have something to offer the world of Poultry .

Leave The Farming to Farmers!

Why the hell is everyone determined to keep a few Chickens? We don’t live in  Wartime or Austerity Britain and you soppy bastards that keep the things in your gardens won’t actually eat them, because you just can’t stand the site of real . . . blood, and you made the fateful mistake of naming every last one some cute little name, and you just couldn’t chop off Mirabelle’s head, it just wouldn’t be right.

Waitrose’s carefully selected free range pre-packed thighs just aren’t as visually pleasing as having something stupid walking around the Veranda and off into the Ha-Ha, or up into Noah’s treehouse, or out into the lane where twats like me have to avoid running over your prized Bantams.


And it’s eggs eggs eggs eggs eggs all the way, as many eggs as you can possibly bloody eat, the guys at the office can possibly bloody eat and the local *Fox can possibly bloody eat as a side plate to your tasty and expensive Chickens.

(*note) Then again, you won’t find many country people sympathetic to that particular plight, there wouldn’t be so many Foxes in the countryside if muesli eating liberal ‘Urbanites’ hadn’t voted to ban **Fox hunting..

**(not that this author actually agrees with wasting 40 people’s time chasing down a Fox only to rip it to shreds while still alive. Much better to employ one man, one rifle and one 10pence bullet if it’s all really only just about keeping the vermin down and not impressing Sir Lady Stockton Mockton with your hair net and side-saddle and vicious disregard for moral decency) – now trot on.

Why Chickens?

Fuck knows but Hermione, Rufus and their kids, the twins Joshua and Claire here speak freely about their purchase of two Scots Dumpys, ‘Morag’ and ‘Catriona’, three Orpingtons – ‘Charlotte’, ”Chloe’ and ‘Millie’ and the later addition of ‘Simon’ their American Jersey Giant. Perhaps this candid interview will help to elucidate?

Rufus – ‘When we first moved into our little ‘pied a terre’ in Hackney, we were just up from the rough end of Bethnal Green above the wonderful little City Farm there and we visited every Sunday morning for our Latte, Machiato and Full English, not to mention the wonderful little organic Olives that they had at the Deli there in the cafe at the time, and we just adored the Chickens, just adored them.’

Hermione – ‘Yes and when we finally got our little place in the country for the weekends Rufus said, why don’t we get some Chickens for the kids, something to ground them in the ways of country living and connect them spiritually with the deep history of farming in the area, we all really wanted to connect with the soil that coursed through the veins of our ancestors, yunno, trying to keep a kind of ‘Chickensian’ England alive, whilst enjoying our little countryside retreat’.

Joshua – ‘I liked Chickens in the old days’ (Joshua is 14 going on 22 with an IQ of 34 and a Public School fee that puts three zeros on the end of his IQ’

Jersey Giant Chicks, but watch out they grow quick, and they shit EVERYWHERE!

Hermione – ‘When I talked to my Life Coach about our idea to keep Chickens she said that she thought it would be a good idea for me to explore my inner ‘Nurture Nature’ and Pagan Earth Mother through caring for Poultry. And that was that, decision made and we began to look for a suitable chicken supplier.

So we found this wonderful little place on the Web called Muddle Farm where the Chickens were kept in organically managed fields with a holistic approach to breeding and a lifestyle that seemed positive, and that really suited us.

We decided that we liked two wonderfully cheerful Scots Dumpys, I dont’ know if you know the breed, but they really do look Scottish too, which Rufus thought was wonderfully amusing, didn’t you darling?’

Scots Dumpys a costly mistake?

Rufus – ‘Yes yes my love and so we bought them, at the very reasonable price of £260 each and took them home, realising that we’d forgotten to buy a Coop, any feed, and the manual the man had told us about at Muddle Farm. So off we popped and came back with the most wonderful Coop and the Manual, all for the knockdown price of £975, we were so excited’.

Claire (14) – ‘Yes and then one of the poor Chickens got ill, we had to phone a Vet and the Vet said, that there was nothing he could do, but phone the RSPCA and have the people at Muddle Farm arrested. As a then 5 year old I was  terribly upset of course, but you see the man had told Mummy and Daddy that all Chickens went bald in the Summer and bleeding from the rear end was completely natural’.

Hermione – ‘Anyway that was just the start of our love affair with the Chickens, though I have to say we’ve learnt a lot as we’ve gone along and learnt a lot from attending the inquest too’.

Initially Hermione laughed when the Chickens started visiting the new Shaker designer Kitchen they'd had installed, until one of them shit itself in the Mushroom and Game Terrine.

Rufus – ‘Yes we have dear, we certainly have, and now we know a little bit more, we’ve worked out that it will only take, with the now one solo Scots Dumpy, the three Orpingtons and ‘Simon’, 47 years to re-coup our expenditure by eating the Eggs that they’re laying, though I have to say I’m getting a little bored with Omlettes and Souffle. Of course Hermione is the most wonderful cook.

Hermione – ‘Thank you darling. I do have to admit that it was a little hard at times cooking a Nigella ‘Peanut Butter and Duck Fat Pasta Dish for the Larger Lady’ with a beady eyed Avian staring you out from the darkness of the Pantry.

Later one of our local little ‘Country’ friends, a chappie who has a 2000 acre arable farm just up the lane, suggested we might cut our losses by eating one or two of them, but I know Rufus and I just couldn’t bear having to kill one, though the new man at Muddle farm did say he’d do it for us for the very reasonable sum of £250, so we are considering it, Joshua and Claire have been begging us to kill them for years’

Joshua – ‘They’re just so noisy don’t you know and I want to take their coop off to Glastonbury next year, it’s just so cool, much too good for those fucking Chickens, isn’t it Daddy’.

Rufus – ‘Yep!’

Perfect for Glastonbury Festival the new Chicken Palace from German manufacturers Bundt, comes with handy ashtrays and a sense of well being.

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