Thursday, March 24, 2011
I'm not premenstrual or anything, but seriously, some people can be a right bunch of dicks.
The sun is shining, and yet people are still dickier than a bag of cocks.
I've found myself wondering - and a lot recently - the same thing: "Who are you and why do you think that what you doing is ok?"
My examples just over the last 48 hours include:
Peas: "I'm afraid we can't say that there are yellow cars, because this project is about red cars. Please change it and send me the changes by end of day."
Peas: "Hi again. Please can you send me the changes we spoke about. Once again, there are no yellow cars, so we can't pretend that there are."
Peas: "I trust the changes have been made regarding our conversation about the non-existent yellow cars."
Lady: "I haven't made the changes because I don't think we should. I think we should inlcude the yellow cars, even though they aren't red.
Peas: "Are you colour blind?"
The dick who locks the front door - both locks - when we are still in the house.
Hands up if you can guess who the dick is.
I can hear it's still in the house, so it should be able to hear that we are still in the house. Instead, it locks us in. So that I have to grapple with the keys (it's an impossible door to open from the inside), wake the Brit up, get him to open it using his manly force, before I can leave in the mornings.
Why does it need to lock the door while we are still clearly inside?
Because it's a dick.
The lounge. See above. The ONE night we decide to sit in the lounge to watch a, frankly, intelligent and exciting forensics show on TV, it sulks and says something like, "But you never sit here, and now I can't watch Glee."
Watch it on your laptop like we do for a change. And PS: This is war.
Peas: Is this the replacement bus to Putney?
Bus driver: You'll have to ask [points] that man in the yellow bib.
Peas: But you're the bus driver.
Bus driver: I don't answer these questions.
Peas: OK, but surely you can say whether this bus stops in Putney or not.
Bus driver: I could, but that's not my job. Ask him, it's his job.
Peas: In the time we've had this conversation, you could've just said yes or no.
Bus driver: Fine, yes.
Turning away after asking a question.
Girl: So, Brit, you bought a house! Awesome, tell me about it.
Brit: It's in Wandsworth, overlooking a park, second floor...
Girl: [Turns away and stares at ceiling, not listening] So, I'm involved in this amazing project that helps Afghan refugees eat more carrots...
Girl: How's work going?
Brit: It's cool thanks, I got a new computer last week!
Girl :[Turns away and stares at ceiling, not listening] Yeah, so I met Kofi Annan yesterday, here's his business card.
Repeat and rinse.
Why are you asking questions when you clearly don't give a fuck? And the only important thing is what YOU'RE doing anyway?
Everyone can be a bit self-absorbed sometimes. But at least pretend to be listening. Jesus.
Nothing. I'm too fed up to continue this Scenario List any further.