As we went to enter the pub we noticed the sign “please leave pitchforks in straw bales”, we heartily complied both commenting on the satisfying feeling as we plunged the twin prongs into the yielding straw. Plucking a straw each to chew we pushed open the pub door to reveal many folk with pints in hand, landlord said “the usual?”, and with a nod we felt the bigotry and the sanctity of racist self-righteousness course through our veins.
OK, so I didn’t realise Jo’s piku was ukip backwards. I had learnt a few meanings for piku though.
And it’s a worry that folk now equate having a pint in the pub with the grinning gargoyle. Do we need to reclaim the pint, do we need to ask for pint glasses that have on them ‘I am not a UKIPPER’ ? No, we just continue having pints in the pub with our mates.
What we don’t do though is participate in or condone the latest incarnation of ‘banter’, includes you too Tom. There’s a young man calls himself Dapper Laughs (real name Daniel O’Reilly) who’s made his name through social media producing “banter”. Stephanie Merritt in today’s Observer labels him “the Nigel Farage of modern comedy”, ooh the linkage in this blog. Anyway this is not banter in my understanding of the term, this is a cover for twats like O’Reilly to be extremely misogynist. Sorry, shouldn’t call him a twat, but sadly many of our terms of abuse come from female genitalia so I’ll call him a wanker, or WANKA as they say in Sarf London. Sorry if that’s offensive to anyone but it’s only banter. Under the guise of ‘banter’ Wanka O’Reilly and his ilk tell ‘jokes’ about rape, and reducing “women to a collection of holes to be conquered”, and if you object you just don’t get their ironic banter, and, as in the case of two people who reviewed Wanka O’Reilly’s christmas album, a storm of twitter abuse.
So thinking about abuse my body is feeling pretty abused from all the treatment I’m getting to kill the crabby killer. Cough slightly better today but have developed regime that seems to manage it a little better. I have been feeling quite ill with signs of fever like the cough, sweating, aching but no temperature rise. Felt a little sorry for myself yesterday as I couldn’t have a proper massage, lying on my front is very difficult with the alien piercing, Kate still did a brilliant job and I fell asleep.
Kate is missing me, I’ve changed and she and I want the old Duncan back. No matter what ‘positive spin’ you put on things, the reality is our lives have changed dramatically and it’s hard; it’s hard physically, mentally, emotionally, as individuals, a couple and a family. We both look forward to when the treatment is over and I begin to return to some physical normality and hopefully eradication of the crabby fucker. We’ve already booked next summer’s holiday, neither of us has ever booked a holiday this far in advance.
Off for a cardiac CT scan tomorrow, wonder what they’ll find. When I had the piercing the camera they stick down your gullet found that my stomach had a hiatus hernia. No more midnight feasts for me.
Really enjoyed my pint in the pub yesterday, it was Timothy Taylor’s Landlord, it tasted so good I had another half. Mike and I were too late arriving to get the best seats so I just got 2 seats and we sat hunkered down in front of the telly. I know we pissed a couple of people off but they were too polite to say anything, nor did they offer to ‘budge up’. I was wearing my new beanie hat which someone pulled off half way through the game. While replacing it I said be careful or I’ll get the ‘Crown of Madness’ and that would really piss them off. When we were leaving, after the cheating All Blacks had won, the hat remover came and said sorry, someone had obviously told him about the crab fuck, no hard feelings but it was probably a good thing the pitchforks were left outside the pub.
- referees that don’t get to grips with the dark arts of the All Blacks, their constant sly obstruction being the most egregious example, are not allowed to referee them again.
The crowd’s singing of ‘Swing Low’ completely drowned out the haka, that was good.
Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.
and to keep Tim happy here are some grinning gargoyle images: