The words that build my life

Pubs selling shit art.

If someone produced good art which they planned to sell at a reasonable price, would they need to display it in a place where people habitually become drunk?

Adult editions of children's books.

If you must follow the adventures of a public school conjuror, even though you are a notionally grown adult, why attempt to conceal the fact behind a different cover, as if fellow passengers will assume after a casual glance that you're actually reading Thomas Mann in the original German?

Adventurers/mountaneers/explorers.

The world being largely explored now, is there really any need for a load of posh blokes to try to reach the South Pole living only on roasted peat and using equipment they bought in the Blacks sale? If they do set out over the Pacific in an 8-foot dinghy, risking almost certain drowining, would it be unreasonable to suggest that when they do capsize, rather than expect a multi-thousand pound rescue operation and media furore, they could at least have the decency just to drown, quietly?
These posh weirdies say things lie, 'If you make a mistake in that situation, you're dead.' Well, don't do it then, you twat! Because it's at least feasible that you'll make a mistake! Also: 'If the weather closes in, you're dead.' Well, forgive me, but isn't that what the weather does in the mountains? 'At that point, the weather started to close in!' Of course it did. You were climbing up a fucking mountain.

Powerpoint.

The Microsoft tool that encourages people to talk like fuckheads.

Expose documentaries which are not.

In recent years, channel 5 has left behind all that wispy-drapes rumpo to become a proper TV channel, fulfilling an urgent public service brief to keep the public informed on today's vital issues: mummies, dictators and how to fly in a Spitfire.
Sometimes, though, they let their rigorous standards slip and put out hack pieces with no new facts or footage but with a sexed-up title and risque trailer promising to blow the lid off all sorts of dark and sultry secrets.
Secrets of the Beatles promised to expose years of the Fab Four secrecy - the build-up looked like it was going to tell how they were all secret lovers in league with the devil. In the event, the programme revealed that they were very popular in the 60's and that Ringo was a fake name.
This is unsatisfactory all round. If you really want to sex it up to get the punters in, why no just completley make the documentaries up? Here's a few to get you started:
*Full Egyptian Sex.
*Mummified D-Day Shag Bandits.
*Hitler, mummified, At It-In colour.
*I'm a nude Dunkirk Tommy - Get me out of here!

Advice Slips.

In what meaningful sense does a reciept from a cash point constitute advice? All it says is: 'You haven't got any money.' That's not advice.
It would only be advice if they said: 'My brother's just won some money on a horse. I expect he'd lend you a couple of quid until you get paid.' Or, 'If you turned up to work on time occasionally, mayber you'd get promoted and we wouldn't have to go through this pathetic charade every month.'


Cafe's that charge excessive amounts for a mug of shit tea.

A pound? A fucking pound? I know what tea costs! I make it all the time!

Cafe's that offer you butter but really give you margerine.

It's the lies i can't stand.

Tits out for Charity.

On occasion, all the diseases and disasters, the billions afflicted worldwide poverty, the endless oceans of distress, the maimed unfortunates desperate for some kind of relief, fill one with need to help in the only way thats appropriate. That's right, folks, it's bikini carwash time!
This is, after all, a fitting way to raise money for Cancer Research UK. How better to highlight the hardships of all those middle-aged women undergoing untensive radiotherapy on their breasts, than to parade some healthy, pert, soaped-up jubblies around a supermarket carpark in Surrey?

Once in a lifetime Charity trips.

Previously, people booked a holiday and paid for themselves. You didn't say to your workmates; 'I fancy two weeks in Ibiza, getting ripped to the tits on Ecstasy tablets and contracting an STD: fancy chippin in?'
Now, though, people are quite happy to say: 'Go on, it's only 50 quid and it's for the disabled kiddies.' But then they mumble: 'Except half of it pays for me to go camel trekking in Mongolia.' And when you ask them to repeat the second bit louder, they show you a picture of a child who's been blown up by a mine.
Other similar gambits might include: 'If you pay for me to go to the pub tonight, i'll put your change in the charity box - go on, it's for the lifeboats you stingy cunt.

The Chuckle Brothers.

Disturbing.

Inane adverts.

Dogs are stupid and will happily run around with bog roll in their mouth, but cats are always 'discerning.' The laws of ad-thropomorphism dictate that cats must always sound upper class and sleepily self-satisfied, like Leslie Phillips drinking fine wines in a jacuzzi. They come on like they own half of Mayfair, when in fact they'd fucking starve if you didn't give them mashed up animal genitals out of a tin. Assholes.

The Daily Mail.

The concentration camps- about which 'gross and reckless accusations have been made' - were just full of dirty Reds. The only people who suffered were a few troublesom 'minorities.' Like, for instance, the Jews.


Il Divo.

Italian for 'The Divs.'

DVD's with adverts you can't skip.

The target group for these ads is quite small - the sort of person who wants to watch the same clip from Only Fucking Fools and Bastard Horses EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY USE THEIR DVD.
The other thing DVD production bastards do is stop you skipping the copyright information - and then put it in 782 different languages, with a running order of seven hours. Just in case you thought it was perfectly legal to burn copies of DVD's but only if you went to Norway and did it.