I'll keep this very brief because it's 10:46pm and, quite frankly, I'd much rather be in bed right now. Maybe this should be called "Females = Different: Pt.1" because there are likely to be many more entries on this theme. And before anyone sets fire to a bra and throws it at me, different doesn't necessarily mean bad. Simple observations. I'll leave it up to you to decide the rights and wrongs in this case...
Anyway, the single event that prompted this entry occurred tonight. Quite simply, I handed a ladywoman (who, for the purpose of this blog and factual correctness, will be referred to as my 'girlfriend') a small chunk of chocolate. At this point a male would've said something like, "Cheers mate," before scoffing it without a second thought.
Interestingly, however, the lady in question could only make basic noises as she strolled away to find a comfy chair. I've thought long and hard for a way to accurately put the noise she made into text, and this is the only way I could describe it...
Imagine you're saying something to a small child who is yet to master the art of speech. In fact, "dada" is about the pinnacle of their spoken word so far. OK, now imagine that same, speechless small child agreeing with something you've just said through the power of guttural noises. Now that is the exact noise this chocolate chomping, fully grown adult lady blurted out as she wandered off.
Fascinating. Clearly I'm not exactly breaking any new ground here, but I thought I'd share it with you nonetheless. Just cup your ear next time you see a female ladyperson grabbing some chocco. Truly fascinating.
Tuesday 23 March 2010
Wednesday 17 March 2010
Just some stuff
Think my train hit a bird this morning on the way into Waterloo. Either that or a pillow. With jam in it. Not sure which is more likely.
Saw a guy with so much toothpaste around his mouth that he looked more like a fully made-up clown who had missed a bit.
Waterloo stunk of faeces this morning. I thought you weren’t supposed to flush the toilets whilst the train is in a station? I don’t make the rules. Who poos on a train anyway?
I’m noticing that many of my posts are train-related. Given the amount of time I spend on them I guess it’s understandable. Doesn’t make it right though. You don’t see Wayne Rooney blogging about lawns.
I’ve been listening to the Ricky Gervais podcasts quite a lot lately. It’s made me want to team up with a very tall Bristolian and write an award-winning TV series. I’ll settle for the West Country though if Bristol is too specific. If you’re out there, get in touch.
There is currently a small group of ladybirds (correct collective noun for a group of ladybirds, anyone?) squatting in my bathroom. When I say squatting, I mean they’re living there without permission. They’re not crouching in unison. Anyway, whilst I initially found this quite charming, it has now become something of an annoyance. Nobody needs a small, spotty beetle flying around their head when they’re trying to put a contact lens in their eye. I might kick them all in the teeth.
Saw a guy with so much toothpaste around his mouth that he looked more like a fully made-up clown who had missed a bit.
Waterloo stunk of faeces this morning. I thought you weren’t supposed to flush the toilets whilst the train is in a station? I don’t make the rules. Who poos on a train anyway?
I’m noticing that many of my posts are train-related. Given the amount of time I spend on them I guess it’s understandable. Doesn’t make it right though. You don’t see Wayne Rooney blogging about lawns.
I’ve been listening to the Ricky Gervais podcasts quite a lot lately. It’s made me want to team up with a very tall Bristolian and write an award-winning TV series. I’ll settle for the West Country though if Bristol is too specific. If you’re out there, get in touch.
There is currently a small group of ladybirds (correct collective noun for a group of ladybirds, anyone?) squatting in my bathroom. When I say squatting, I mean they’re living there without permission. They’re not crouching in unison. Anyway, whilst I initially found this quite charming, it has now become something of an annoyance. Nobody needs a small, spotty beetle flying around their head when they’re trying to put a contact lens in their eye. I might kick them all in the teeth.
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