Why is it that whenever I have neighbours, I can never seem to relate to them at all? Only last year, I had next door neighbours who were Irish. Now, before these cretins moved in, I was always against stereotyping groups of people as I had already had my fair share of stereotypical abuse on Habbo Hotel as I was asked time and time again that painful and awkward question due to my Scottish origins. "Your from Scotland? Do you wear a skirt!?" Yes, I do wear a skirt. I also wear high heels, suspenders and Hello Kitty! nipple tassels. Because that's what all of us Scottish people are right? Ginger, alcoholic, cross-dressing trannies... Gok Wan's got nothing on us.
These neighbours of mine though were never far away from calamity. Once for instance, I was heading out when I happened to glance towards my neighbours house to see black smoke billowing out of the living room window. I wasn't very worried however, as I couldn't smell burning leprechaun. It turned out that the woman inside had been cooking a meal and had fallen asleep, letting the food burn. When she realised that her house was full of smoke, the clever cookie decided to open the kitchen window instead of the door. There's that famous Irish common sense for you. I don't think I'm the only person who has issues with neighbours however...
I was up town the other day for the first time in a while and noticed that quite a few new shops had sprang up apart from the usual charity and gambling shops which is all that Dumfries Town Centre seems to consist of. One take-away in particular caught my eye. "Kebab Shop", the sign read in bold, red font. I think that other establishments should take heed of this barefacedness as it could prove to be of some use. For example, it would be a hell of a lot easier to locate the local "massage parlour". However, I then noticed that there was two boarded up shops seperating this take-away and the next take-away which had been called something equally as barefaced. "Kebab and Pizza Shop". If ever there was a game of oneupmanship, this must be it. I bet the owner of the "Kebab Shop" was furious. Coincidentally, the owner of the "Kebab and Pizza Shop" has gone missing and police are calling out for anyone who may have any information regarding the disappearance.
When I think about it, neighbours are just people we're forced together with once we take our place on the property ladder and are people just like me who should be tolerated and respected. Either that, or I should take a leaf out of the "Kebab Shop" owners book and have my neighbours disappear...
Tom
x
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
Monday, 17 May 2010
.1 Ya Bass!
I had one of those mornings this morning, where you wake up half an hour before your meant to, and feel a sense of dread as you curse time, as every second mercilessly slips through your fingers. Typically, most male teenagers feel this emotion every Monday as they dread the episode of Glee which their cursed family will no doubt make them watch once again. However, for me this emotion was triggered by the prospect of two Higher exams which I would have to sit today.
It's not just the actual exam paper which I hate though. I hate the whole process of having to sit in order in a massive hall whilst a bunch of people whom we call 'invigilators', stroll up and down the aisles of the hall, looking at us with a gleam in there eyes which would suggest that they have a thirst for teenage blood. You sit down at your assigned table and attempt to write your name on the paper, only for your table to almost collapse under the weight of your pen. Then to make matters worse, the 'invigilators' run towards you in a manner which would suggest that fixing this table is a matter of life and death, as they desperately stuff paper towels under the legs of the table, as if the towels someone have some magical property which will give it the strength to fight off the evil, crushing power of our pens.
Today as I was given the go ahead to open my paper, which I did in a manic fashion as I realised that every second counts, I realised in horror that I was in many ways snookered, as there were no questions in the paper which I had been hoping for. I wasn't in a dark mood about it however, as someone extremely forththinking and considerate had obviously sat there exam previous to me, and had finished, so confident with getting 100% that they had time to leave a message, for people like me to read. "RIVRSIDE MTHRFKER!" I read. Why? Why would you write that on a table? Just above that someone else had wrote "T.Y.T .1 Ya Bass! 2KAII9!" The first thought to enter my head besides the fact that the capital letters and exclamation marks were unnecessary, was why someone whom I've never met in my life before was calling me a "Bass". ".1"? Of what? Being presumably a group of young toerags with no prospects for the future? Well done lads. Keep it up.
If I'm being completely honest, I think exams are just a way of finding out who can be arsed and who can't. For those chavs who didn't actually manage to find there way to the Standard Grade exams last year. Your just naturally idiotic.
Tom
x
It's not just the actual exam paper which I hate though. I hate the whole process of having to sit in order in a massive hall whilst a bunch of people whom we call 'invigilators', stroll up and down the aisles of the hall, looking at us with a gleam in there eyes which would suggest that they have a thirst for teenage blood. You sit down at your assigned table and attempt to write your name on the paper, only for your table to almost collapse under the weight of your pen. Then to make matters worse, the 'invigilators' run towards you in a manner which would suggest that fixing this table is a matter of life and death, as they desperately stuff paper towels under the legs of the table, as if the towels someone have some magical property which will give it the strength to fight off the evil, crushing power of our pens.
Today as I was given the go ahead to open my paper, which I did in a manic fashion as I realised that every second counts, I realised in horror that I was in many ways snookered, as there were no questions in the paper which I had been hoping for. I wasn't in a dark mood about it however, as someone extremely forththinking and considerate had obviously sat there exam previous to me, and had finished, so confident with getting 100% that they had time to leave a message, for people like me to read. "RIVRSIDE MTHRFKER!" I read. Why? Why would you write that on a table? Just above that someone else had wrote "T.Y.T .1 Ya Bass! 2KAII9!" The first thought to enter my head besides the fact that the capital letters and exclamation marks were unnecessary, was why someone whom I've never met in my life before was calling me a "Bass". ".1"? Of what? Being presumably a group of young toerags with no prospects for the future? Well done lads. Keep it up.
If I'm being completely honest, I think exams are just a way of finding out who can be arsed and who can't. For those chavs who didn't actually manage to find there way to the Standard Grade exams last year. Your just naturally idiotic.
Tom
x
Sunday, 16 May 2010
Hait Eee's
"Thanks to the generosity of our donors, we have raised £4.3 million for our Haiti earthquake appeal. This vital support is allowing us to feed and provide basic relief items to those who lost everything. So far we have reached approximately 150,000 people."
I have a confession to make. I've never properly understood charity. That excerpt was from the Christian Aid website, regarding the Haiti appeal. An absolute tragedy in which many people were either killed, injured or left homeless. Definitely a worthwhile cause. What I don't understand, and what I'm sure many others don't understand however is how £4.3 million has not at least made sure that everyone has a roof over there heads, and proper medical attention. The question people may be asking is "What has happened with all of our money?" Well I believe that I have the answers, and it is relatively simple...
* Haiti don't deal in Pound Sterling.
If Haiti don't deal in Pound Sterling, how are they supposed to spend the money we give them? Where are they meant to go, to get it changed into they're own currency? The local postie? Think about it...
* Even if the people of Haiti were to somehow get the money exchanged into they're own currency, where would they spend it?
In case we have forgotten, the majority of people in Haiti don't even have a place to sleep at night. With this in mind, why do we seem to think that the people of Haiti have a local Tescos that they can spend our money in?
If you will allow me to be completely frank, the people of Haiti will probably be wondering why we keep sending them sacks upon sacks of silly, crisp paper with an old woman on, and will most likely be burning the money in order to keep themselves warm. And we wonder why we're in a recession when things like this are going on?
In conclusion, the recession is down to foreigners burning all of our money. Not Gordon Brown.
Tom
x
I have a confession to make. I've never properly understood charity. That excerpt was from the Christian Aid website, regarding the Haiti appeal. An absolute tragedy in which many people were either killed, injured or left homeless. Definitely a worthwhile cause. What I don't understand, and what I'm sure many others don't understand however is how £4.3 million has not at least made sure that everyone has a roof over there heads, and proper medical attention. The question people may be asking is "What has happened with all of our money?" Well I believe that I have the answers, and it is relatively simple...
* Haiti don't deal in Pound Sterling.
If Haiti don't deal in Pound Sterling, how are they supposed to spend the money we give them? Where are they meant to go, to get it changed into they're own currency? The local postie? Think about it...
* Even if the people of Haiti were to somehow get the money exchanged into they're own currency, where would they spend it?
In case we have forgotten, the majority of people in Haiti don't even have a place to sleep at night. With this in mind, why do we seem to think that the people of Haiti have a local Tescos that they can spend our money in?
If you will allow me to be completely frank, the people of Haiti will probably be wondering why we keep sending them sacks upon sacks of silly, crisp paper with an old woman on, and will most likely be burning the money in order to keep themselves warm. And we wonder why we're in a recession when things like this are going on?
In conclusion, the recession is down to foreigners burning all of our money. Not Gordon Brown.
Tom
x
Skeptical Looks
I hate formalities. However, I think it would be quite rude to give strangers a chance to perv me without introducing myself. So I'm Tom. There we are. Glad to get that out of the way.
Several months ago, I came up with the bright idea of starting a blog. This was met by slightly skeptical looks, as one smart alec said to me, "Okay Tom. Will you be making this blog before or after the YouTube Channel, Podcast and television show which you were also supposed to be making?" That comment was the cause of a slap around the lug for the other lad, and amid all of the excitement I completely forgot about making a blog... Until now.
You wouldn't believe how long I spent trying to come up for a name for this blog. It's been said that you should never judge a book by it's cover. Nothing has been said yet about a blog and it's title though, and in fear of being ridiculed and judged harshly, I sat for approximately 183 seconds and decided on 'Tom Foolery' as opposed to 'Peeping Tom' as 'Peeping Tom' made me sound too much like a 58 year old paedophile from Ipswich. I couldn't have this as I'm not 58 and certaintly not a paedophile. In fact, I actually searched for the definition of 'Tom' on Urban Dictionary and this is what it said.
"A sexy beast. 'Toms' are known to be genius' and to be extremely skilled and gifted in the field of literature. Commonly seen without a shirt due to their exemplary physique. 'Toms' also are known to have great moral values and being very sensitive to a womans needs."
Who am I to argue with Urban Dictionary?
I'm not quite sure exactly what I'm going to do with this blog. I'll most probably post my ideas, and give a rant every now and then, which will consist of things which will most commonly be incomprehensible or just plain uninteresting. However, I'll allow you, the lovely people of the Internet to decide, as it isn't my job to judge, but be a stereotypical blog owner who believes that the world revolves around him. Also, don't be afraid to get in touch. I love talking to new people. So long as they're not 58 and from Ipswich. In that case, I tend to have a minor distrust and prejudice for them...
Tom
x
Several months ago, I came up with the bright idea of starting a blog. This was met by slightly skeptical looks, as one smart alec said to me, "Okay Tom. Will you be making this blog before or after the YouTube Channel, Podcast and television show which you were also supposed to be making?" That comment was the cause of a slap around the lug for the other lad, and amid all of the excitement I completely forgot about making a blog... Until now.
You wouldn't believe how long I spent trying to come up for a name for this blog. It's been said that you should never judge a book by it's cover. Nothing has been said yet about a blog and it's title though, and in fear of being ridiculed and judged harshly, I sat for approximately 183 seconds and decided on 'Tom Foolery' as opposed to 'Peeping Tom' as 'Peeping Tom' made me sound too much like a 58 year old paedophile from Ipswich. I couldn't have this as I'm not 58 and certaintly not a paedophile. In fact, I actually searched for the definition of 'Tom' on Urban Dictionary and this is what it said.
"A sexy beast. 'Toms' are known to be genius' and to be extremely skilled and gifted in the field of literature. Commonly seen without a shirt due to their exemplary physique. 'Toms' also are known to have great moral values and being very sensitive to a womans needs."
Who am I to argue with Urban Dictionary?
I'm not quite sure exactly what I'm going to do with this blog. I'll most probably post my ideas, and give a rant every now and then, which will consist of things which will most commonly be incomprehensible or just plain uninteresting. However, I'll allow you, the lovely people of the Internet to decide, as it isn't my job to judge, but be a stereotypical blog owner who believes that the world revolves around him. Also, don't be afraid to get in touch. I love talking to new people. So long as they're not 58 and from Ipswich. In that case, I tend to have a minor distrust and prejudice for them...
Tom
x
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