Jamie's Rants And Things

A few months ago
I was merrily strolling down the street in Exeter listening to some music when I was stopped by a couple of attractive Asian females. Students at the university was my assumption.

As I divested myself of headphones, they asked me for directions to the Odeon.

Turning round to show the way I sniggered somewhat, and pointing to the building about 50 metres away I said “you see that massive building with Odeon written on it in huge letters?”

They looked mortified. I was amused.
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Take a look out of the window
Year ago, my mate Rich and I were regulars at the Greyhound, where we'd play pool and drink beer. A great boozer – the kind of place where they'd be pouring your pint as soon as they see you at the door if you've been there more than twice. Anyway, one summer evening Rich is beating me hollow at the pool table, as he was wont to do, when a backpacker-looking bloke staggers in, clearly shattered after a long day travelling and lugging all his worldly goods around on his back.

He took a good few minutes to unload his rucksack, sleeping bag, then take off his kagoule, etc. Meanwhile all eight or ten of us in the pub (it was a weeknight) were watching in that friendly way people do when they're regulars and you're not.

It turns out he's American. “Say, you have a notice outside saying you serve food all day?” he drawls.

The barman, who's a bit of a wag, says drily “Take a look out of the window. It's dark.” The kitchen's still open for business, he's just taking the piss.

Backpacker bloke sighs heavily, then starts putting all of his gear back on, one piece at a time, then turns on his heel and staggers off into the night. Serenaded by gales of laughter coming from the pub.

I'm not sure whether the tourist was the ignorant one, or the barman, but man, it was funny!
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Work
I work in Edinburgh on Princes Street. I am worried by the frequency of people in summer (from all over the world) who ask where the castle is.

It's impossibly to explain without making them sound stupid, because the answer is basically 'THERE! FUCKING THERE! THE BIG CASTLE SHAPED OBJECT YOU CAN SEE FOR MILES AROUND THAT STEVIE WONDER IS SITTING POINTING AT AND GOING “HELL YEAH, THAT'S A CASTLE BITCH”. THERE!'

Once I got the reply 'But that doesn't look like a castle,' from an American. They insisted on looking at one of our guidebooks to double check this. They had their own guidebook, but they bought it in Glasgow and they apparently thought that it might be an elaborate hoax. So I showed them the picture of the castle from the same type of guidebook that they had bought in Glasgow, and told them how to get there.

Oh and someone phoned up yesterday who didn't know how to go back a page on his Internet Browser, then thought we disconnected him when we put him on hold, despite my use of the phrase 'We're putting you on hold.'

Thank god for the mad smiling Frenchman yesterday who was so nice he offered to pay for the cost of the phone call we made on his behalf.
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what's the code for…?
Older readers may fondly recall the days when the 01 national dialling code was introduced. While most cities just added 01, Leeds was changed from the old code 0532 to 0113, and Leeds numbers went over to the 4-3-4 format.

There was a common misconception that the new city code was 01132, which was not right, because part of the reason for the change was to allow a whole new set of numbers starting '0113 3xx'.

For most people, that's a fairly geeky and arcane point. But at the time, I was working for a Leeds firm that needed a customer database. The boss wanted an autodialler for the phone numbers in the records, and since most of the phone numbers were Leeds, wanted the area code to automatically fill in the Leeds code.

“OK, so that field will say 0113″
“No, the Leeds code is 01132″
“Actually it's 0113, the 2 is part of the local number now.”
“The Leeds code is 01132.”
“No, you see, eventually there'll be 0113 3 numbers added…”
“THE LEEDS CODE IS 01132!!”

…It was set up as 01132.

It's not the ignorance that was so depressing, but the dogged insistence that she was right.

I hope, I really hope, it caused a lot of trouble when the 0113 3 numbers came in.
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My GF last night came up with a good one
I have a Hamster – aptly named 'Hammy'

We were putting food in its cage but Hammy couldnt find it, I told her he probably couldnt see it, they have poor eyesight because they are nocturnal.

“Shall we turn the lights off then?”

I gave her a minute to realise what she had said…
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Final one from me this week…
My ex-wife, when I asked her if she fancied going to the pub, as my mate had just phoned and said a few people were having a few afternoon pints:

“No, I've got enough friends of my own already that I'm too busy to keep in touch with!”

My ex-wife, when were splitting up:

“I don't know any of your mates…”

The first one qualifies on its own, I reckon; the second one though… words really do fail me O_o
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Actually, this one was me
Boarding an Easyjet flight to Amsterdam, I unexpectedly saw a friend of mine taking her seat a few rows back.

“Blimey, Mia, what a surprise seeing you here? Where are you off to?”

“Amsterdam…”

About five rows of people simultaneously muttered the word “twat” under their breath. They had a point…
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a friend of mine (fellow physics student)
has several quite frankly idiotic theories.

1. there is a counter-earth on the other side of the sun in the same orbit as us. why can't we detect it? it has an “antimatter shield.”

2. light can get tired. this pretty much speaks for itself.

3. in 2012 the aforementioned counter-earth will declare war on us.

4. the hubble space telescope isn't real, and all images from it are photoshopped.

personally, I think I should begin to mine his stupidity and sell it to B-movie writers.
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I spent a long time trying to explain to my ex mother in-law that
the moon didn't generate light of its own and her repeated use of the phrase “it's all pigs and troughs” didn't quite make sense, (this is rural Kent)

However, the worst case of terrible ignorance I've ever come across occurred in the late 80s. Although I was at primary school at the time, we had already learned about the oppressive apartheid regime in South Africa and I like to think I was aware of it, albeit a tad naively at the time. I overheard this in a supermarket fruit & veg aisle… two middle aged women…

Woman 1: “ere, you don't wanna go buying that South African fruit!”

(I assumed, for a millisecond that this was a conscientious attempt to support the ANC in boycotting South African exports, as most of the UK was at the time)

Woman 2: “yeah, you're right, think of those horrible black hands all over them”

She put down the grapefruit she was holding and continued shopping…

Clearly they both assumed that the UK was sanctioning and boycotting South African imports and exports because we were just as racist, if not more so.
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Many moons ago
I went for a job interview at a small company run by a middle-aged Indian man (I ended up working for him for nigh-on ten years, but that's by the by). That evening I was recounting the course the interview took to my then better half:

Me: “So when I went in, his wife offered me a cup of tea, and…”
BH: “Tea? I didn't know they drank tea!”
Me: “So… where d'you think tea comes from then?”
BH: “…”
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Coming into land on a Caribbean island, at night…
My sister: 'oooh the island isn't as big as I thought'
Me: 'it's dark, you can't tell'
Sister: 'but I can see the lights on the roads and buildings'
Me: 'what about the bits of the island which are just countryside?'
Sister: 'but you can see how big the island is by the lights…'

and so on. I don't think even now she can grasp the concept
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Doof doof doof!
This one is about a good mate of mine, real audiophile and heavily into his car stereos.

He had spent a good deal of time and money (equal to the GDP of a small country) on car audio equipment.
Being the meticulous bugger that he is, it took him several weeks to install, tune, and have his investment up and running to his liking.

One day he calls me on the mobile, voice quivering with excitement.

“Mate, I've finished it! I've bloody finished it! It sounds absolutely f'ing unbelievable! Listen!”

He then points his mobile phone in the general direction of his car, which is loaded with several 15 inch subs, about 4,000 watts of power and I'm sure is pumping out at least 150dB…none of which, I'm sorry to say, are able to make their way down the phone…at least not in a way which would do it any justice…

“Mate, *sob* isn't it amazing?!”
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Finishing with a late run….
I worked in a pub. There was food served at lunchtimes. We were famed (among other things) for our chicken curry, served with rice, chips and all the trimmings, classy joint this was. I was setting up before opening for lunch one warm and sunny Friday when the 'phone rang. The following happened..

“Good Morning, Frog and Nightgown*”
“Hello. Are you serving lunches today?”
“We certainly are madam, 12 'til 3pm”
“Are you serving the chicken curry at all? Only we did wonder, what with the weather being warm out, whether you would?”
“….Erm… yes, we're serving the full menu”
“Are you sure? I mean it's forecast to be another hot day today”
“Oh yes, definately got chicken curry, and all the other favourites on..You know that chicken curry's sort of from a hot country?”
“Is it? oh.. right. See you in a while then”
“Look forward to it, goodbye”

Bless…

*May not be the pub's real name….
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A former colleague of mine does archive research for a large broadcaster..
.. she was once asked for 'footage of the Titanic sailing into New York harbour'
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I used to work in The accomodation blocks for Birmingham University during my uni summer holidays, doing maintenance work to get the rooms ready for the new students to start.

One day I was in the office and took a call from the well-spoken parent of a soon-to-be student. It went something like this:

me: Hello?

parent: Ah hello there, my daughter moves into your accommodation shortly, but we were wondering, how long is Fresher's Week?

me: Erm, it lasts about a week, madam.

parent: Oh, err, ok! Bye!
*click*

Superb.
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Before departing for Glastonbury one year
my friend gave his bank card to his mum. It was before the days you would be able to get a cash machine there and he didn't want it in his wallet in case he lost it.

“Put that somewhere safe for me, until I get back please,” he said.

So she stuck it to the fridge with a magnet for the weekend.
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In a Tesco Metro…
I heard a teenage girl shout across the shop: 'what do potatoes look like?'
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A friend of mine used to see a girl
who was a walking stereotype. Blond, Air Hostess, about as intelligent as a bowl of Weetabix. I would feel bad for making fun of her, but she was an unpleasant bitch as well.

She displayed her ignorance many times, but the one that really got me was a conversation that went…

“So where have you been flying this week?”

“Oh – just back and forward to Italy”

“Where abouts in Italy?”

“Amsterdam”

I feel sorry for the passengers if she is ever responsible for evacuating her plane.
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Foreign Dosh
One weekend, not so long ago one of my chums and I traveled up to Scotland for a wedding. It also happened to be the first time said friend had been to this particular corner of Britain.
Once we'd arrived at our hotel we wandered to a nearby petrol station to stock up on pot noodles. After paying for my provisions I look round for my friend who it would seem was reluctant to approach the counter, and was looking decidedly nervous.
Me: “What are you doing? Come on!”
Friend: *looks sheepish*
Me: “Well? What are you waiting for?????”
Friend: “I'm confused… can you use normal money here?”

Uhhh…?!
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Daft:
My 26 year old other half currently believes that Gherkins are pickled Sea-Cucumbers. My sister, until the age of 18, believed that Haggis were small furry animals, who lived in the branches of trees in the Highlands, and that they could only be shot during the 'Haggis Open Season', which began on Burns Night! I despair…
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Checkout excellence
…occurred on Saturday in M&S. The belt wasn't moving, so the industrious trainee reached and stretched progressively further along it to retrieve the assorted groceries. I reached across and moved the plastic that was obstructing the beam that switches the belt on and off.

She smiled, I think in gratitude, although her ability to utter the phrase 'thank you' was I fancy disabled by her belief that she looked upon a sort of god…
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Cheddar Gorge
I was once in a moderately unsuccessful band. Our moment in the sun came when we were invited to be the opening act for the Michael Jackson experience, an event taking place in Exeter City FC stadium. Anyway, we had to drive from Hatfield to Exeter, passing signs for the famous (in the UK) “Cheddar Gorge” on the M5. Pointing out the sign, we manage to convince our 22 year old singer that “this is where all Cheddar Cheese was mined”. “Where did you think it came from?” we laughed at him, “from a cow?”. He believed cheese was mined at Cheddar Gorge for about a week.
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Merkins again
Tourist came into the local one day taling loudly to his mate.

“I've just been to the bar next door, they're selling some goddam awful fake Czech Budweiser, they can't even spell it properly”.
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Eddie Izwho?
BBC3 is just showing Eddie Iz Running, the program about Eddie Izzard running 43 marathons

My (idiot) son has just said “I swear his name is Eddie Izzard not Eddie Izrunning”

I swear that nothing in this country is going to work when the next generations are in charge of it…..
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Today at work
I was at the printer talking to a colleague of mine who is a lovely man and not generally prone to acts of rampant stupidity. He told me he had just stood holding a door open for a wheelchair-bound colleague and got quite miffed when he refused to go through it. Apparently it had taken him a good 30 seconds or so to click that the door he was holding led to (and only to) the stairwell.
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Ignorance of celebrity
is something I wholeheartedly approve of.

My dad just cheered me right up a few minutes ago whilst watching a documentary about Judas Priest on TV.

“Listen to his voice. He sounds just like Jamie Lee Curtis” he said.

“Eh?” He didn't sound anything like her.

“No, no, I mean Tommy Lee Jones.”

Again, I stared blankly.

“Him that does Oops TV.”

That'll be Justin Lee Collins, then.
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Rubber trees…
Not mine but told to me by a Malaysian van driver on the way from Penang to Teman Negara rainforest.
He had been taking an American tour party on a similar trip when they drove past a rubber plantation (Imagine neat rows of thin trees tapped for their resin).

“Wow, your forests here are so well organiZed” commented a woman from the tour party.

“Oh no, those are rubber trees” the tour guide replied

“Rubber trees? They sure look real to me” said the woman as my tour guide applied hand to face…

That's how stereotypes begin.
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I asked my sister
what she would like to do if she won the lottery.
She said “I'd like to become a property typhoon”
Then when I was finished laughing, “What? I think i'd be good at it!”
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Chesterfield Man
I used to work in a photographic store. Bear in mind the shop was laid out with numerous display cabinets filled with cameras, lenses, photographic paper etc. Basically, it looked like a camera shop cos that's what it was!

One Friday evening about ten to five and we're getting ready to close the shop. Some random bloke bursts through the doors with a pair of trousers over his arm, stops, looks around at all the equipment and says “Are you a tailors?”. Awesome!

(Quint had his own name for this brand of customer, he called it Chesterfield Man, in reference to the caveman like stupidity and the unfortunate abundance of this type of customer in my home town.)
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0-idiot in 30 seconds…
When I was at college a classmate asked me what car I had.

“An Astra” I replied

“How big is the engine?” he asked

“Ooh, about, this big I suppose” says me, holding my hands about 3 feet apart….
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Words of Wisdom – Bush classics
“The vast majority of our imports come from outside the country.”
“If we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure.”
“One word sums up probably the responsibility of any Governor, and that one word is 'to be prepared'.”
“I have made good judgements in the past. I have made good judgements in the future.”
“The future will be better tomorrow.”
“We're going to have the best educated American people in the world.”
“I stand by all the misstatements that I've made.”
“We have a firm commitment to NATO, we are a part of NATO. We have a firm commitment to Europe, We are a part of Europe.”
“I have my own, strong opinions – but I don't always agree with them.”
“We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur.”
“For NASA, space is still a high priority.”
“Quite frankly, teachers are the only profession that teach our children.”
“It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it.”
“Public speaking is very easy.”
“Americans ARE sacrificing – i mean, we're paying a lot of taxes”
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A young lady by the name of Gemma
I told her I was going to my brother's New Year's Eve party.

“Ooh. When's he having that?”

Face. Palm.
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I might sue her for making my head hit the desk at that speed…
I'm friends at Uni with a girl whom I shall respectfully nickname 'C'.

Now, C is a 22 year old, third-year law student who successfully managed to live and work in a South American country for a year when she was 18, and who will be going to do a (part time) postgraduate law course in that London in September. She has a good part-time job working in the legal department of a bank, and has been headhunted to manage a team in a bank when she's in London. When she is qualified, she plans to go work on Death Row appeals in America.

She asked me how many thirds were in a whole last week.
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It's all done wiv magnets, innit?
We were talking one night about the Earth's magnetic field, and how it periodically reverses polarity. One lad was strugling to keep up. As we wondered if the field decreases to nothing as it flips, he saw his chance to make a contribution.

“I hope not, otherwise we'd all fly off into space!!”

We looked at him, gave ha-yeah-good-joke kind of nods. He looked back blankly. He was serious. He really did think, bless him, that we, and everything else on Earth, was held in place by magnetism.
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And another one.
I see some daft things at work, one of my favorites;
Young lad came in to the shop to ask if we had anything that would take scratches out of his (motorcycle) helmet. Upon seeing the helmet some more explaination was needed.
“How did you scratch it this bad- all over?”
“I washed it. In a washing machine.”
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Finally- I remembered this one.
This was in a G.C.S.E. exam (geography). My friend M and I were not really 'into' school, particularly when it came to geography.
One of the questions was “Name one of the principal uses of iceburgs.”

His answer, in all seriousness, was….

Ice cubes.
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Merkins
A few years ago I was on holiday off the coast of Florida. My kids befriended a 15 year oldish American lad, from quite a well-to-do family. After discovering we were from England he said to me, “speak some England to me.”
“What do you think we're speaking now?” I said.
“English” he replied.
“Well where do you think English comes from then?” I asked.
His reply?
“Well, I'm from California and that's where English is spoken.”
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Stereotype?
Was working on a building site and had to move some manhole covers. An old Irish bloke was helping me lift them into a van.
“It's not the weight of them – it's just that they're so damn heavy” he said in all seriousness.

Amazing displays of ignorance

Sandettie Light Vessel Automatic tells us: “My dad's friend told us there's no such thing as gravity – it's just the weight of air holding us down”. Tell us of times you've been floored by abject stupidity. “Whenever I read the Daily Express” is not a valid answer.
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It's probably more innocence than ignorance
But when I was still at the age when I needed to be accompanied to public lavatories by my dad rather than going about my business on my own, I went to wash my hands then asked my dad if I could have a sweetie from the vending machine on the wall.

Dad: Err, those aren't sweets, son.
Me: So why are they strawberry flavoured?

A voice from a cubicle piped up with “Good luck explaining that one, mate!”
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All alone in the big bad London
and I was getting my first fridge delivered. Charged by my Dad's advice of not letting anyone in without I.D. I asked the delivery man if he had any.

“Yes” replied he “your fucking fridge”
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The broken lens
Many of the stories here are about stupidity rather than ignorance, so I'll follow suit and post a story I've been waiting a long time to share.

Back in the 90s my mate Pete worked for a company which provided coatings for various types of lenses. One of his workmates, named Gavin, was renowned for doing stupid things, so he spent most of his time working in the mailroom where he couldn't do much damage.

One day he was wrapping up a coated lens which had to be sent to Germany. Said lens was worth several hundreds of pounds, or at least it was before Gavin dropped it and it broke into four identical pieces. Fearful that this really would mean the sack this time, Gavin asked Pete and some of the others how he could get out of this. Simple, they said, just send it anyway and when the German company complains, claim it must have got broken in transit. A very grateful Gavin thanked them for saving his bacon and went off to complete the task.

A few days later Gavin was called into the boss's office. The conversation went something like this:

Boss: Gavin, our German client's just been on the phone. That lens you sent was broken into four pieces.
Gavin (smugly): Really? Must have got broken in transit then. Some of those delivery companies can be very careless and…
Boss: Gavin, if it really did get broken in transit, will you kindly explain to me why when it arrived, each of the four broken pieces was wrapped individually?
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Morningwood Bellend! Peppers! Blushing Colleagues! Subject style stolen from disasterprone!
Ah, Smiler. More commonly known as Manni, but I called him Smiler because he always had a smile on his face. Whatever the circumstances. The phone would ring, he'd smile. Kick him in the balls, he'd smile. Shag his Mum, he'd probably keep smiling. Manni was a top guy, but Christ he could be naive sometimes. Of course, naivety to some means that they need putting right about a few things. To me, it means playtime. Yes, I'm a git.

One day, he asked out of the blue what the name of the hottest pepper known to mankind was. Now, some would say the Nag Jalapia or something along those lines. To be honest, I don't really know. Nor care, to be honest. But as I usually end up doing, I'm getting off the point.

Poor Manni. He didn't stand a chance as I happily spoonfed him the utter bullshit that the hottest pepper known to mankind was in fact the Morningwood Bellend pepper. I even furnished him with a physical description- about 6 to 8 inches long, girth variable, pinkish in colour with a purple tip, and if handled correctly would produce about a teaspoonful of seeds. And I told him they sold it in the Morrison's round the corner.

And off he toddled. And then returned, about half an hour later, blushing, and loudly calling me a bastard to all who would listen.

In my defence, I didn't actually think he'd be that stupid…
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Checkout Touche
I was at Tesco buying a couple of things and for once paid with a tenner instead of my card. In my usual trace I said to the checkout girl: “Can I have some cash back please?”

Without a moment's thought she said
“Yes sir, it's called change”.

Titters from people in queue behind as I “Um, er, ah yes, very good, ahem” my way out of the store.
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Some of you may know that my real name is Kerry. As it mentions in my profile, many people have commented that they thought that was a girl’s name. Back in my sales job in London (many years ago) I was talking to a customer on the phone and arranged to give her a call back once I’d found out some information for her. She was being quite abrupt and told me that she’d be calling me back if I hadn’t got back to her shortly. She then asked my name, and the conversation went something like this:

“What’s your name?”
“I’m Kerry”
“Kerry? That’s a girl’s name”
*sighs*
“Well, no. It can be, but it’s a bloke’s name too”
“No, it’s a girl’s name”
“It’s really not, it’s unisex, like Lindsay or Lesley”
“Well, I’ve never heard of a bloke called Kerry. I’m sorry, but you’ve got a girl’s name”
“… Well, I’m a bloke, and I’m called Kerry – so now you DO know someone called Kerry who’s not a girl”
“Nope. You’ve got a girl’s name”
“Right, okay. Well I’ll get the information and call you back. I’ve got your number, what’s your name?”
“Chris”

At this point I really tried to restrain myself, honestly I did. Sadly, I couldn’t help myself and blurted out “THAT’S A BLOKE’S NAME!”

She hung up on me…
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Popped into my local for a pint. Bought said pint with a £20 note from the barmaid I'd never seen before and received… £2.70 in change.
“Sorry, but you haven't given me enough change.”
“It says £2.70 on the till.”
“That's how much it COST.”
“It says £2.70 on the till.”
Nice Mr Landlord hustles over to sort it out – his face indicates this is not her first mathematical screw up today – I get my change. As I wander away to drink my pint I hear:
“Enough's enough love, I'll pay you for 2 hours but you're out. I thought you were at Uni – how did you even get there?!”
“I take the bus mostly.”
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At one company I worked at there was a huge, high-profile, project that involved employing dozens of programmers from an out-sourcing company. Well, I say programmers but I actually mean people-pulled-off-the-street-and-poured-into-suits. To my jaundiced eye these “programmers” seemed to have very little programming skills and a breath-taking lack of knowledge of IT in general. So it was up to me to educate them.

“Hey Legless” squeaked one of the masses “What does TCP/IP actually stand for?”

Bear in mind that this was a web project they were working on. A web programmer didn't know what the very bones of the Internet stood for.

“That'll be Transmission Control Protocol/Internet Pixies” I lied smoothly.

He looked suspicious.

“Internet Pixies” he asked looking puzzeled

“Yup. You see the fathers of the Internet were a bunch of hippies so would name things out of Tolkien or from Dungeons And Dragons. I mean, you've heard of Unix Daemons? – Systems processes on Unix boxes? Well the Pixies carry the messages to the Daemons. It all makes a kind of weird sense when you think about it”

I was warming to my theme now.

“Then there's a bunch of other Pixies on the internet. Your dial up modem uses PPP doesn't it?”

He nodded.

“Well that's Pixie to Pixie Protocol. Then there's your mail – POP3. That's Post Office Pixie. I could go on but that's the meat of it. Pixies run the Internet.”

He was nodding now and smiling.

“You know, it does all make sense. Can't wait to tell the other guys about this. We've been wondering about it for a while.” says Mr Gullible.

And off he trotted.

Cheers
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Great conversations of our time.
*Ring ring. Ring ring*

Them: “Hallo, company X”
Me: “Hi. I'm wondering if you could help me. Could you tell me if Bob Jones still works there, please?”
Them: “I'm sorry, I can't give out any details of our staff.”
Me: “I don't want any details. I'm just wanting to know if he still works there.”
Them: “I'm very sorry, I can't give out any staff details at all.”
Me: “Not even whether or not someone is still there?”
Them: “I'm not allowed to give out any staff details.”
Me: “Okay, let's try this another way. Can you put me through to Bob Jones, please?”
Them: “He's not at his desk at the moment.”
Me: “So he does still work there then? Thanks. That's all I needed to know.”

*click*
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Playing trivial pursuits. The question was, “what was the first craft in space?”

The answer my nan gave?

“Knitting”
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ok I'll give it a go
My ex wife once bought a Beatles calender
I asked her *why* she'd bought a Beatle's calender-seeing as she'd never ever expressed any interest in the 60's Liverpudlian beat combo..she replied that she'd always liked the Beatles and THATS why she'd bought the calender..interested in this seemingly new found admiration for Lennon, McCartney & co I asked her to name her favourite Beatles song

“Hey Hey we're the monkees” was her reply
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Who's that?
A couple of years ago I was visiting Venice. Venice in ITALY. I really wanted to visit the famous CHURCH, St Mark's Basillica, I'm not religious but I thought it'd be cool to have a look around such a famous CHURCH and soak up a bit of culture.

Once I got inside the CHURCH, I joined a queue of people making their way around, looking at the paintings and figures on the walls and ceiling. Painted on the ceiling of the dome of this famous CHURCH was a bearded chap with a rather beatific look and a circle of light behind his head. Seated around this back-lit guy on the ceiling of this CHURCH in ITALY, were painted 12 other similarly bearded gents. It looked as if the twelve guys were some sort of followers of the first, disciples, if you will.

Now, such an image painted on the ceiling of a FAMOUS CHURCH in ITALY must have some significance. I obviously wasn't the only one with an enquiring mind: the large American woman in front of me turned to her husband, who was also transfixed by the mysterious chap on the ceiling, as said: “Gee, do you think that's King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table?”…

You know, I think it could have been.
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A friend of mine…
… had honestly never heard of how you can press Alt+F4 to make your web browser prioritise the current website you're looking at – therefore speeding up your download speed.

She had been surfing for years – the slow way – waiting for the computer to execute all its other processes! Imagine not knowing about Alt+F4!
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I'm afraid I have to admit to my own ignorance….
In Spetember last year I flew to Australia for the first time heading for Sydney…

I flew via Singapore and as the plane crossed the coast of Oz over Darwin, the chap next to me who was looking out of the window said “look, there's Darwin, we're over Australia”.

So I popped my bookmark into my book, packed my Ipod away, put my shoes back on and sat waiting for our descent.

Five and a half hours later, we actually landed.
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Art students are idiots
I'm an engineer. I'm at an engineering university party. Said engineering university also does a couple of arts papers but is primarily known as my country's best engineering school. Arty boy in skinny jeans and a fucking top hat is trying to chat me up.

ABISJAAFTH: Hey, so what's your degree?
Me: B.Eng. No need to tell me what you study…
ABISJAAFTH(floundering slightly): Oh wow… Don't you have to be a boy to do that?
Me: Apparently not.
ABISJAAFTH: So you can, like, open your own garage once you finish!

Fuck off back to management and psychology, people in skinny jeans and top hats.
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I love her dearly but…
We were watching TV the other day and MrsScars turns to me and says “Hasn't Julian Clary aged badly?”

“Er, I think that's Jo Brand”
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One of my Sisters isn't too experienced in the world, which doesn't stop her having some very strong opinions of right and wrong,
I've been everywhere and done everything and bought the T-Shirt and burnt it and so on many times over, I lived a stones throw from Amsterdam for a few years just to give you an idea, she has yet to leave the same town she was born in, so me and her don't generally get along.

She believes in ghosts because she watches those ghost chaser programs on SKY and suchlike, she believes these to be empirical evidence of their existence, or she would if she knew that word, which she doesn't.

She votes right wing at every opportunity and thinks this makes the most sense, she agrees with 90% of what the BNP says and wants them to get in and sort the country out but she's lesbian, she doesn't see any problem with this, the BNP would apparently love her cos she's a right wing paki hating bastard just like them. Honest.

She hates forrins, I mean she REALLY hates forrins. Mainly she hates that they don't talk english, and assumes every forrin talking forrin language within her ear range must surely be talking about her and plotting to overthrow her. Why can't they learn to speak her language the ignorant forrin bastards. Of course every year she holidays in Spain, and she doesn't speak a word of Spanish and has no intention to ever learn, why should she, they all speak English over there anyway so no need, and rightly so, and who wants to talk to the durty forrin bastards anyway.

She absolutely and resolutely believes all the propaganda about terrorists and really does think they're evil and only blow us up out of evilness and jealousy for our better way of life, I've tried many times to explain the reality of it but she simply will not listen, I am a lefty terrorist sympathiser and that's that, end of.

She doesn't like filthy forrin muck, I once tried to encourage her to try some generic snack style 'sushi' but she wouldn't touch it 'cos it's raw fish and it kills you if they cut the wrong bits out. I think she got that off The Simpsons. She does however love a curry, but only if it's made 'properly' by white people (like in Wetherspoons). We once drove about 20 miles looking for a fast food chain that didn't have any 'coloured people' working in it 'cos they'll only spit in her food, then she settled on a pizza.

She doesn't understand why the moon 'follows her'. I did say 'because it's very big and very far away' but apparently that's beyond her comprehension, the moon is the best evidence of magic there is, it's right there, how can I explain that eh!? I can't! I can't, can I!? To her…

I don't have to worry about her reading this, the internet is evil, the tabloids say so, so it must be true. She doesn't give a flying crap about all this propaganda about cheaper car insurance and stuff, she ain't getting her bank account raped by nigerian paedophile viruses for nobody!

I don't visit her very much…
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My dad used to run a pub…
Mark, one of the regulars was chatting to my dad, and asked him for some advice. He'd just started going out with a black girl, and the relationship was moving towards the point where they wanted to spend some time alone in private.

“The trouble is” he told my dad “My dad will go MAD if I take a black girl home, he's funny like that” (Mark and his dad, as you may realise, were white)

“Well go to her house then” suggested my dad.

Mark spluttered over his pint and exclaimed “I can't do that, coon's houses stink!!”

Classy…
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Logo confusion
Was asked the other day how long Audi have sponsered the Olympics for…
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Summer 2001
And a young Kroney is in the States on a six week jaunt through the South. As a trip it was something of an eye-opener to a middle-class boy from Surrey. It was the first time I truly appreciated just how safe and comfortable my life was.

I had left the trip until I was 21 for obvious reasons. There's no point going to a different country if you're not going to be old enough to do everything you might want to do, after all.

On this occasion, I was sitting in Miami airport having caught a Greyhound from Fort Lauderdale. I was heading back up to Tampa and, having done the journey down on a Greyhound, I had no intention of repeating the experience on the way back up. I elected instead to fly all of 45 minutes. There was a bit of a wait before my flight, so I decided that I'd like a nice beer. Thus began one of the biggest episodes of fuck-wittery I have experienced to date.

“Hi there, I'd like a bottle of Budweiser, please.” I said, to the big, fat, thick-looking mouthbreather behind the bar. She looked at me with obvious contempt.

“ID,” she said.

I sighed and produced my passport. I was four weeks into the trip at this point and the novelty of having to produce my passport every time was wearing thin. She all but snatched it off me and stared at it with knitted brows.

“I can't serve you, you're underage,” she said, hanging onto the passport.

“Yes you can, I'm 21, it says so right there!” I said, pointing at the relevant section.

“You're not 21, it's the law here.”

“Yes, I am. I was 21 this year, in May. I've been 21 for several months now.” I was getting a little annoyed at this point and it may have come out in my tone.

“I'll get my manager.”

So the manager comes out, looks at my passport and says:

“You're underage, we can't serve you.”

“For God's sake. It says my date of birth right here,” I take my passport back and point to the bit that says 'Date of Birth: 31-May/Mai-1980'. I hold it there for a bit. “See? Can I have my beer now, please?”

I get my beer. I pay and go to sit down. Whilst I'm passing the time, I try to figure out what the hell just happened. The date of my birth is clear and bold next to my photo. After staring at it for a bit, I start to laugh. At the top of the page is the passport number, followed by the only other date on the passport, the date of issue.

My passport was issued on 31st-Oct-1997.

That would have made me three.
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Working as a waiter…
Customer: “How big is the ten-inch pizza?”
Me: “About ten inches.”
*cue laughter from the rest of the table, hopefully at him*
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My friend
thought “disgruntled” meant having your pig stolen.
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Putting the world to rights
Victoria line train from Brixton one morning. Two shellsuits and lager are having a discussion about the state of the nation. Sat next to them is a City bloke straight from central casting – Financial Times, pinstripe suit etc. He's reading the paper but is clearly also fascinated by the debate that's taking place. The discussion goes as follows:

Shellsuit 1: “You know what this Europe thing is all about, don't you? It's the fucking Germans wanting to control everything.”

Shellsuit 2: “Yeh.”

Shellsuit 1: “I'll give you an example. Where is the capital of the European Parliament? It's in Brussels…Germany.”

Shellsuit 2. “Here, hang on. Brussels is in Belgium.”

Shellsuit 1. “Is it? I did not know that [long pause]. Anyway, Blair can stick it up his fucking arse.”

Man in pinstripe suit looks on in amazement, shakes his head and goes back to reading his paper.
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Overheard conversation makes for a year of laughter
Strolling to the pub, chatting away with a friend, another mate of ours gets a phone call from someone already in the pub.

“yeah, we're en croute now”

I almost died with laughter at the thought
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A friend of mine once told his housemates about a hilarious story he'd seen on the internet
Craig: 'Guys did you see that thing about that bloke that was caught looking as scampily clad women at work?'

Housemate: 'Were they dressed as prawns then Craig?'

Craig: 'NO! Scampily clad'