Friday, 20 December 2013

Annoying `Middle Englanders` part deux

Two posts below tells the tale of my last encounter with a middle England blue-rinser.

The below clip, drawn to my attention by an American buddy (who's just discovered the delights of Ms Tate) actually does a great job in identifying this phenomena. He told me that there is a very clearly identifiable American equivalent. I was sorry to hear that. Seems escaping from religious persecution, a revolution, a civil war and a re-write of democracy still can't compete with human nature!


Wednesday, 4 December 2013

Move along - Nothing to see here

Re the attempted murder of a police officer in Leeds earlier today;

A West Yorkshire police Chief officer is quoted as saying words to the effect that, `thankfully, this sort of crime is rare in Leeds`. I suppose the murder of British police officers in West Yorkshire (which includes the city of Leeds) IS `rare` compared to some countries, so rare in fact that I can remember them:

Inspector Barry John Taylor,Died 1970, aged 30. Shot dead when he confronted a suspect armed with a shotgun.
Sgt Michael Hawcroft,1981,stabbed to death by a suspect he chased and was trying to arrest.
Sergeant John Speed, 1984, shot dead as he confronted a man who had just shot a colleague.
Police Constable Ian Broadhurst Xmas 2003, shot dead in Leeds trying to arrest a suspect who suddenly produced a gun.
Police Constable Sharon Beshenivsky, died 18 November 2005, aged 38, shot dead when confronted by three men on arrival at the scene of a robbery.

So I suppose that chief officer could argue that he was statistically correct in his statement. Now call me a dinosaur but statistics, doubtless spouted as a sad sweetner to reassure the public, would never have left my lips if I was talking about the recent attempted murder of one of MY officers. I read his words and it made most of my bodily fluids boil - and I've been out of the job for 12 years. Judas H Priest, this in the same sentence where he was talking about the attempted murder of one of his officers! Save the bloody stats crap for another time, because this was not the time, not for her family, not for her friends, not for her colleagues and not for the rest of us who will be associated with the police until we cross the clearing into Fiddlers Green. Crass.

I found this letter on line, within 2 minutes of typing this rant. It explains everything.

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Middle Englanders, how they can irritate

So there I was, walking up a cobbled street in our local town, intent on taking a dekko inside the recently refurbished Corn Exchange , now a museum, bric a brac and cafe, at the top of the road. Cars are parked on the right of this short, narrow `One Way` street and a builders van isn't quite as close to the offside kerb as it could be.

I suddenly hear an engine revving, rather hard, behind me. I turn around, gingerly as my neck is still sore from my recent injuries, just in time to see that well known curse of the motorcyclist.... a Volvo Estate driven by a member of the `Blue Rinse Brigade`and, on this occasion, the curse of the innocent pedestrian as well.

Deciding that the gap is too narrow, she decides to mount the kerb and drive past on the pavement, regardless of my presence, and forcing me to step smartly back against the wall of a building so as to avoid a second `blues and two's` run to A&E. (I am currently recovering from a rather nasty head injury - NOT motorcycle related I must stress). To add to getting her knickers in a twist by having her path obstructed by a parked van, she now had a local oik (me) having the temerity to be in her way on the footpath! To be doubly sure she gets my dander up, she gives the car horn a good 2-second blast as she passes me, pressed against the wall.

I shout a well known English attention grabber at her, "Oi"! She stops and down comes her window. I say, "thanks for making me jump twice, once for my life and once because of your totally inappropriate and deafening horn-sounding". In an annoying Thatcheresque grating, accent she says, `Well that car was badly parked and I couldn't get by". To which, said oik replies, "So why make your problem MY problem by driving on the footpath forcing a pedestrian to take avoiding action"? "She glares at me, like I'm a Richard she's just stepped in".

I have a fair command of English and a well stocked armoury of Anglo Saxon terms of abuse and despite a huge list to choose from, somehow my Automatic Tactical Manouevers And Defensive Audio Selection System (AT-MADASS) decided on the following three words: "You HORRID woman".
Judging from the defence suite's Abuse Review Scrutiny System (ARSS), it was a good hit. Two women from the Corn Exchange cafe who had come out onto the steps to find out what the hooting and shouting was about, clapped their hands. I expect the foul bint has reported me to the police, hoping I will be birched.