18 April, 2008

um-ber-ella...ella...ella...

It's funny.
Being ill makes me lose my normally carefree and easy going approach to city dwelling.
Here are some bad thoughts:

So, what is it about cities, man? We've had cities for a long time…we've had cities for a long time. We've had crowded streets for a long time, we've had busy, busy places for a long time – and I'll tell you what else we've had for a long time and that's UMBRELLAS! Umbrellas. What is with umbrellas? What is with women carrying umbrellas? I'm going to be sexist… I'm making sexist remarks now – but I'm not, I'm talking about my eyes, talking about protecting my eyes…
Women walking down city streets with umbrellas completely oblivious to what's around them, absolutely oblivious.
Taking people out. Blinding innocent people. No spatial awareness whatsoever.
Should be outlawed, man.
Nowhere in town is that far away, I've been caught out in the rain before – everyone has – and it's not that bad! You get there in the end. You get there, you take your coat off and you're still pretty dry. It's not that important to stay completely dry, and even if it is there's lots of other ways to stay dry that don't involve poking my eyes out while you walk down the road.
Get a hat. You like shopping so much, go out and buy a hat.
Should be illegal.
"Oh, but I need to have my umbrella 'cause it protects my haircut."
I beg your pardon? What on earth are you talking about? No one's haircut is that good – London is a terrible place to get a haircut. I mean, I'm a mildly well travelled person…I've been to a lot of places, all the places you've been to, all the places where other privileged white people that buy Coldplay albums and who "wouldn't have the car if it wasn't for the baby" hang out…and by far the worst place for hair is London. Look around you. No offence but your haircut is rubbish. They all are. The next time you're out look around you – a sea of terrible, boring, drab haircuts. English hairdressers are the worst hairdressers in the world. In the world. Barbers? Hmm, they're ok, but hairdressers?
So…no one's hair in London is that good. No one's haircut is that important, is that stylee that it deserves preserving at the expense of my eyes, or other people's eyes.
Oh, and being punched in the balls as well, what's that about? We've had city streets, we've had overcrowding, we've had high population densities for hundreds of years, thousands of years. We've had metropolitanisation for thousands of years and still you get these women walking around completely oblivious, in their own little bubble, swinging their arms around. The number of times I've been walking along the pavement minding my own business and I get walloped in the nuts by some girl with no spatial awareness.
Now, my balls are nothing special – well I think that they're pretty damn special, in fact they're amazing, they're the best balls that there are, they're truly astounding balls – but they're not big, they're not a liability, they're not going to get in anyone's way, they're just a normal pair of balls tucked in discretely underneath my penis, in between my legs, wrapped up in some nice stretchy, clingy, slightly more expensive than george at asda…black…shiny…boxer…shorts…but I digress…yes, you know…I've had trouble finding them myself in the past, sometimes when you're having a little rummage they're not always where you expect them to be, are they? Nevertheless, these complete strangers, complete strangers who aren't even looking seem to just…whack, five knuckles right in the…unbelievable.
Unbelievable.
Control yourselves.
Think.
Be aware.
There's always someone – no matter how important you are, no matter how much of a great day you're having, no matter how pleased you are with yourself as you go off to meet some "friend" for "coffee" – there's someone more important than you coming up behind you in a hurry and they're going to be overtaking you and they really don't need to have their bollocks crushed by you and your selfish attitude to life.
Grow up.
Stop pretending to be that self obsessed horse-faced cow off of "Sex in the City" with your big umbrella and your loud voice and your swinging arm and look around you.
Be a part of the world around you.
Engage.
Live.
Enjoy.


And get out of my way.



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2 comments:

Danny Fontaine said...

I can tell that it's you in that photo.

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