Radio 4 kicked off with some annoying failures regarding use of the Queen's English. Sarah Montague managed the unforgivable fuck-up regarding 'bacteria' which is of course plural. "Higher than normal levels of a bacteria have been found . . . . . "
A few minutes later, when some or other tit gave us some weather information, I heard that because of fog, the Met Office had issued a 'Yellow Alert'. Yellow? Since when has an amber warning turned fucking yellow? Is this an effort to pander to some nobs in an unnecessary department, and turn everything into nice easily recognised forms, after they became obsessed with the Teletubbies? Whoever decided that yellow was the way forward was probably looking "through the arched window".
I was followed by a Mercedes C250, driven by a twat. I knew he was a twat because it was 8.25am, and no one was using headlights or sidelights. The 'no one' actually included this bloke, because he was using fog lights. Now, despite the Yellow Fucking Alert, there was no fuckin' fog in this area. His use of the lights was for posing purposes only, with the multiple-dot style lights piercing my retinas. [NB: I prefer the 'retinae' as the plural, but it seems that fuckers have already got in with their lazy 's'-adding and both forms are acceptable]
Walking into the town centre, I passed a van which was sign-written (as most are) with the company name. However, these days no one owning or running a company is content with that. A logo and a company name are not enough now, because all companies feel obliged to include a strapline, to serve as an explanation of what the company does. This pathetic practice extends to institutions, and even the police. I have blogged on this before, with all the police force variations of unnecessary one-liners, things like "Wessex Police - Worse than Wet Wipes" or "Brothshire Police - Spoon Serving Communities". Today, the offender was Aquajet GB Ltd. It had, alongside this, the phrase "Intelligent Drainage Solutions". Even if I forgive the solution/liquid pun, there is a real problem here, because a drainage solution cannot be intelligent. It may well be the case that the company employs an intelligent person, and that this boffin comes up with good solutions relating to drainage issues, but that's the only possible link to intelligence.
I finished my McDonald's breakfast (my own one actually, not his) and noticed a church with its notice board at the front. I mused that the perfect example of indecision is a church called "All Saints".
I bought a paper from WH Smith, and was encouraged by the woman on patrol to use the self-serve machine. I say on patrol, because she was loitering in front of the main till and counter, next to a group of three scanners for the customers to do their own checkout work. [I got the impression that this woman would not stay at the kitchen sink or cooker for very long.] For a thirty pence transaction, I decided not to demand she provided personal (proper) service, and I scanned the paper. It was a painless process but it rapidly turned into one that fucked me right off! Why? I was asked on-screen if I'd like to add a chocolate item to my purchase; three little pictures popped up, each showing what was available for a further £1. I resent a cunt of a machine forcing me to comply with an upselling suggestion. I already get this cuntin' shite from nobs on the tills at petrol stations, motorway services and even fuckin' Poundland. Now machine are taking over. We'll be getting automated, computer-generated telesales calls next, to home phone numbers, even when the number is ex-directory. I know! It was a dollop of sarcasm because I've been getting that shit for years!
The question for today's competition on This Morning was hardly very challenging: "Who was the male lead in the films Staying Alive and Grease?" How superbly fucking challenging.
A: John Cleese
B: John Hurt
C: John Travolta
Safari Vet School this evening on ITV1 provided proof that vets do not have to have any English skills and that it's perfectly acceptable to be a narrator without having a basic understanding of what's singular and what's plural, and as a result what form the verb should take. Shouldn't the trainees all be sent to ordinary school first? I was hit with:
"The herd are on their way."
"The team are preparing."
"The herd gallop off."
There were so many more that I prayed for one of tranquiliser darts to be shot at me as well as the poor giraffe. Well, that's about it, other than a final moan about the smallprint at the bottom of adverts for fancy phones. It seems that in line with any smallprint and/or 'terms and conditions', the truth is less appealing than the apparent offer. "Sequences shortened" seems to appear briefly, to say basically that what we've just seen as a quick and marvellous facility is, in real life, a pain-in-the-fucking-arse cuntin' ball-ache of a task that will take ages and your fingers will struggle to tap out what's needed without your piece of technology deciding to hang/freeze or provide something for which it has not been asked. A visual lie is the correct term for this approach.
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