Skip to main content

Rampant children will kill us all

Apparently. Knickers being got massively in a twist all over the shop today by the news that Britain's teens and kids are "The worst in Europe." I'm sure you've seen the story so I shan't bother to link it, my laziness is of course due to a breakdown in society and my poor upbringing.

Nothing like a good moral panic to bring the idiots out of the woodwork, my favorite concomitant story has to be Asbos are a badge of honour. The amusing impication being that since asbos appeared on thehorizon things have somehow got worse. I can't help but note that there's no testimony from those kids who, having been asbo'd are having their freedom somewhat curtailed "it's a badge of honour, but a pain in the arse" style of thing (incidentally, check the video link in the corner "British youths caught misbehaving" Oh no! Youths! And they're misbehaving! I'm reminded of the old Bill Hicks skit about the word hooligan not sounding particularly threatening).

So are kids get drunk and fuck more than any of the others in Europe. Of course they do. They're idiots. Their parents are also idiots. The sooner the country as a whole realises that we're mostly a bunch of fat, venal racists, more interested in lovely shiny posessions than anything else then the sooner we can do something about it. Like killing ourselves. Which, in a long haul kind of a way, is exactly what is happening here. Social Darwinism in action again.

The point being lost amidst all this hand-wringing is that if these lot actively want to turn themselves into a bunch of losers, that means all the more opportunity for those of us who aren't. So drink yourselves silly you witless little bastards, at least I know I'll never be competing with any of you for a job.

(N.B. I don't for one second actually believe that teenagers are any worse or better than they ever have been. And I've not had my pocket picked by a Victorian urchin recently, either. It must be a slow news week)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Creepy old men

I note, somewhat wearily, that creepy old men are back in the news, being creepy. Creepy old men, and their apologists and enablers, who argue that their creepiness is somehow the natural order of things. Old men would have you believe that it is difficult to not be a creepy old man. That it is a task of epic proportions. It is not that difficult. It is a matter of intention. As yet more of the grimness of Epstein unfolds, creepy old men are, sadly, a flaccid topic once again. Whether it be pursuing students thirty years their junior, or simply not asking too many questions about the background of the probably legal young woman who you've just been introduced to by your good pal Jeff. To be clear, I am not referring to criminal creepy old men, the ones who actually committed statutory rape, the ones who fucked trafficked hirls. That is not something which is allowed to get away merely with the contempt of the observer.  That deserves prison.  No , I'm referring to the hinterla...

Inedible

"He says it's inedible" said my front of house manager, as she laid the half-eaten fish and chips in front of me, and instantly I relaxed.  Clearly, I observed, it was edible to some degree. I comped it, because I can't be arsed arguing the toss, and I want to make my front of house's lives as simple as possible. The haddock had been delivered that morning. The fryers had been cleaned that morning. The batter had been made that morning (and it's very good batter, ask me nicely and I'll give you the recipe some time). The fish and chips was identical to the other 27 portions I'd sent out on that lunch service, all of which had come back more or less hoovered up, we have have a (justified, if I do say so myself) very good reputation for our chips. But it was, apparently, "inedible". When it comes to complaints, less is more. If you use a hyperbolic word like that, I'll switch off, you've marked yourself as a rube, a chump, I'm not g...

The daftest complaint I ever had

I have written here several times down the years about customer complaints, both justified and idiotic. Working in hospitality they are an ineivitability. No matter how good you are, how consistent, you will get complaints. Very few of them stick in the memory, but some, by virtue of their extreme idiocy, do. And one popped into my mind as I was plating up a dish this lunchtime, and I thought, why not, it's as good a thing to write a blog about as any. It's also an entertaining example of how events can play out in ways you may not expect at the time. It sticks in the mind as it combined stupidity with a petty malice and venality which leaves me with no qualms about taking the piss out of it publicly. I rarely let bad reviews lie, if I feel they're unfair I might demur, if I feel they're reasonable I'll make a point of apologising. If they're stupid I'll take pleasure in replying very politely. This one got ignored. It happened on a Sunday, which is another ...