Trampolines
There is a completely disproportionate number of trampolines in the UK. Gardens everywhere are blighted by these fucking great circles with high sides to keep bouncers in a silo. Not content with eating up half the garden with a conservatory, the typical householder now sees it as essential to allocate another 30% to a monstrosity that simply kills grass and provides a sore for any eye.
Enjoyment
I resent people telling me to 'enjoy' something, especially when just the single fucking word is used. Twice yesterday I was advised/ordered to 'enjoy'. The first tome was at around 3pm when I was served some chips. In presenting the box of chips, the fat serving woman with less personality than leftover batter used the word so inappropriately; anyone would think she had served me with some fantastic creation. No, it was a mediocre portion of chips. As I was with Junior, I'd ordered a large portion for us to share. Seeing as I am in 'chip mode', I may as well express my dissatisfaction with the presentation. The establishment had chips available in sizes small, medium and large. I ordered a large, and watched puffer fish spoon the chips into a box. There were two sizes of empty boxes on the side counter, but evidently the larger of the two was reserved for orders of fish and chip. As I'd asked for chips, she selected the smaller box. This was adequate to cater for a small portion only; the medium portion would have rendered the box unclosable. The large portion rendered it unclosable and fucking useless as a chocolate fireguard, or indeed, a fucking chip container! I am sure they were designed for 6" pizzas. The fact that the larger box would have been perfect was what made me even more annoyed. Russell's Fish & Chip Restaurant - Chips = 7/10 Presentation = 3/10.
The second time I was expected to 'enjoy' something was at the behest of the fucking weather forecaster! Yes, that's right, the closing instruction from the stupid woman who'd bored the arse off me for two minutes and wound me up with her illiteracy and complete nonsense was the simply word 'enjoy', after she'd said temperatures could be as high as 22or 23 degrees. The fact that this was expected for Sunday in the London area, and that where I am was scheduled for 15 degrees meant her cuntish directive was a piss-take. I wish the fucking weather presenters would stick to telling us what the weather will be , and NOT to 'take care', 'enjoy', 'wrap up warm' or 'drive carefully'. Telling me to 'allow extra time' is a cheek - how do the cunts know how fast I drive?
In summary, then, I WILL DECIDE whether or not to enjoy something, and I will NOT be influenced by some twat telling me to enjoy anything. I think the next time someone dictates I'm to 'enjoy', I will dictate that they 'fall over' or 'die'.
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