“Take the phone – I just cannot talk to this idiot any longer.”
This is a phrase I screamed yesterday, and I’m sure is one you have also exclaimed at some point.
Many things irk me (as I’m sure you can tell, based on my previous blogs), but none more so than stupidity. Being totally, hideously clueless is just about acceptable if all you do is exclude yourself from society in order to preserve the happiness of others.
However, when this outrageous idiocy comes into direct contact with any human with even a slice of social know-how, there can only be one outcome: sheer anger.
How can a cab driver not know a local landmark? How can a food delivery man not know a popular student halls of residence? IT’S THEIR BLOODY JOB TO KNOW!!!
When on the phone to the latter form of ignoramus last night, he proceeded to tell me no less than five times that he was outside the “tall building”. Forgive me for getting confused when he said it is the height of an “average building”, as if expecting me to know what on earth this completely nonsensical observation meant.
“Enter my postcode in your Sat Nav.” This couldn’t possibly go wrong. “I don’t have one. It broke and I forgot to ask for a new one.” Obviously.
At one point I even thought of going outside and shouting in the faint hope this complete moron would hear me and be able to figure out his way to my flat. But I figured this complex geographical mapping technique would be above him.
That’s when I gave up. His stupidity had beaten me. I could take it no more. So I passed the phone to my friend and went for a lie down. Five minutes later our food arrived. Cold. I faced my idiotic tormentor for the first time. Yup, he even looked like an imbecile.
After confronting him about his sheer lack of any sort of brain, it turned out he was within a two minute walk of my flat the whole time. Idiot.
Sitting here listening to Disclosure (as I am contractually obliged to, considering my demographic), something crossed my mind:
Is there anything in this world worse than variants of plain, still water? I’d wager no.
Flavoured water, fizzy water, water with ‘hints’ of stuff…all utterly abysmal. No one who is remotely sane could possibly like them.
This obsession with ‘anything but water’ has got to stop. Still, flavourless water is good for you. On the other hand, flavoured water isn’t (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1358999/The-healthy-flavoured-water-sugar-doughnuts.html). After all, it is *the* original drink. It’s impossible to actively like or dislike it, which means it must be neutral; the ‘safe’ choice.
What is this pressing need for a flavoured variety of water? Elderflower, Drench Orange and Passionfruit, and Robinsons Squash are all vile. Do yourself a favour and buy the truly orgasmic alternative: fresh fruit juice. Nothing beats that.
Another thing water-related that really gets up in my grill is this obsession by all waiters to insist on ruining a perfectly good glass of water with slices of lemon. What is this custom? Who thought it’d be a good idea? Lemon and water simply do not go together. Neither do slices of orange and water. But, at least you could eat the orange if you really wanted to.
Furthermore, is there really a need for so many pieces of ice to be stuffed into one glass? I think it is widely accepted that most drinks are kept in a fridge/cooled environment and so they should already be at the optimum serving temperature. Plus, as everyone knows, having ice in the drink means you get less of the actual drink, and ice takes the fizz away.
On second thoughts, maybe ice is a good thing – it will turn vile sparkling water into exuberant still water.
P.S. I was in a bit of a bad mood, as you can probably tell.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Daniel Nicholas Walters and I’m 19 years old, studying English Language at the University of Birmingham. My social security number is 9945673403138. Oh, and I’m quite often a bit bored.
It was at 11:02 last night that a glistening light bulb appeared above my head. I was bored. Very bored. I started to think what I could possibly do to pass the incessant, seemingly never-ending hours that faced me. Revise? Too much effort. Get a job? Too much effort. Socialise (no Google, not with a ‘Z’)? Too much effort. Then it hit me: rather than suffer boredom alone, I could drag you all down with me by making you read this – my musings on life.
You may be (probably not) wondering why I was so bored. The reasons are twofold; firstly, whereas all my friends were revising for their numerous upcoming exams, I only have one and it is not for five weeks, and, secondly, there are only so many games of FIFA one can play in a single day without becoming numb and unresponsive.
So, this blog is my new brainchild. Now go and have some fun until my next post.