Everything has gone awfully political lately. Apologies if I’m starting to seem like a broken record. Today let’s talk about something else! I think I previously mentioned that I’ve started walking to work lately. Well if I haven’t let me elaborate…
I’ve started walking to work lately.
Good, glad we’ve got that cleared up. This morning I got myself stuck in the school rush, now this is a common complaint for people who drive to work, there are certain roads and certain times that one tries to avoid around 7:30am to 8:30am when commuting. I was fucking walking!
I got stuck behind some chavvy princess who was angrily escorting her horde of future job seeker claimants to school in a blocking formation that would put the New Zealand All Blacks to shame. Now this wasn’t a 2 minute delay on a narrow school adjacent street. My journey to work involves a 25 minute walk alongside one of Leicester’s major A roads before I get to turn off onto the quaint city back streets. The road is about 6 people wide which although ample room for multiple pedestrians and cyclists to use simultaneously was no match for Chantel and her clown car of a vagina. Six kids. Six whole kids, all of school age (or maybe she just couldn’t find a sitter and didn’t want to miss Geography). I spent 15 fucking minutes trying to find a way round this advert for child protection services. If they hadn’t turned off to enter some knife riddled state school when they did, I’m pretty sure I would have punted baby Georgia into a fucking truck.
I just can’t fathom being that oblivious of one’s surroundings, or caring that little about obstructing others trying to go about their daily lives. For that reason I enter ‘slow walkers’ as the first entry of today’s ‘Things Farrell Hates’ list, what an intro right?
Things Farrell Hates Part 1
1. Slow Walkers – You probably don’t think I’m including the elderly or partially disabled in this category after all that would be callous and cruel. When I talk about slow walkers it’s probably just the ignorant and purposefully annoying. WRONG. Don’t assume I’m less of an asshole than I am. If you’re on a zimmer frame or hobbling down to the emergency room to find out why your left arm has gone numb then don’t let me stop you… Just get the fuck out of my way, I have to get home so I can sit on the toilet for an hour.
2. People who say ‘Banter’ – A few years ago banter was a relatively sophisticated term, I’m not sure what reality tv show we have to blame for its popularisation but I’m going to go ahead and blame those cunts from Essex. It’s not just the word itself, or the aids inducing shorthand ‘bants’. Nobody should ever have to explain to you that something is ‘just banter’ because in saying that you automatically become a penis, regardless of the situation. I’m not a statistician but I would imagine in 99% of cases where the phrase ‘chill it’s just banter m8’ have been used it has in fact not been just ‘banter’ it has in fact been an infusion of low brow humour and varying levels of cuntyness.
3. Russians – Wow this got serious real quick… Now I don’t mean all Russians, just all the ones i’ve ever spoken too. That’s not much better is it… I’ll elaborate, myself and Rene play a lot of online competitive games together. Literally every Russian we’ve ever played with has become an immediate sex pest as soon as they realise there’s a woman in the group. I’m not talking 4 or 5, easily in the hundreds and with a perfect score! Does it mean I think all Russians are sex pests? Of course not. If I met a Russian tomorrow would I assume he’s a sex pest? No… But it’s getting there…
4. Parodies of comedies – This never used to be a thing, but with the internet being the internet everything is a thing. Some people just don’t seem to understand that if something is funny already parodying it or editing it for comic effect doesn’t double down on the funny. It just feels forced and unnatural like Steve-O as a stand up comedian.
5. Anyone who has ever deleted their Facebook – If you have deleted your Facebook and still have no intention of ever going back then you’re in the clear… for now. If you have a Facebook account whilst reading this but at one point in time deleted that account due to an argument, uh-oh… You’re a penis. Deleting your Facebook account is the grown up equivalent of running away from home because you can’t have ice cream before supper. We both know you just want attention and you’re obviously coming back, where else can you play scrabble with strangers and judge others for deleting their accounts for attention.
Tomorrow I shall continue my list! I fear we are only just beginning to scratch the surface of things I hate. I’d get professional help but I’m pretty sure therapists are going to be on the list somewhere.