The World according to Rich - Babies

Cue the female lynch party. Balls to you. Literally. Infact, I titled this wrong, this should be about dumbass parents. Well, no, I'll just cover both in one. You should feel priveledged. Before you start, yes, I reckon I'd be a quite good dad someday, but until that day comes, keep your goddamned noisy, puke covered, crying, stupidly dressed abomination away from me. I don't want to have to deal with that shit until I have to, thank you.

No, it doesnt look beautiful, it doesnt look like Jesus reborn, it's a baby. Its the genetic mix of you and your partner. And its at least 18 years of responsibility. It might seem awesome for a few months, but when you have a few sleepless nights because baby just shat itself, come back and tell me I'm right.

Don't get me wrong; I love the idea of having kids someday, I just wish I could bypass the being-covered-in-custard bit and get straight to the shooting of their first boy/girlfriend. I cant wait to be waiting in the hedge, timing how long it takes my daughter to say goodnight. Longer than 2 minutes, then he gets a machete to the mouth. If a girl breaks my boys heart, then I'll boil her eyes in transmission fluid. But, does this mean I should have to suffer all the other kids? No. Of course not. If people can't control their kids properly, why should everyone else have to suffer the consequences?

Take resteraunts for example. If you try to tell me you have ever been to a resteraunt that "welcomes" children and not been pissed off when the little fuckers are doing laps of the bar or pretending to be Hulk Hogan, then I'm sorry but I don't believe you. How are you supposed to enjoy yourself with that going on? You just can't. You're overwhelmed with a desire to shove them in the deep fat frier and chow down on fried-child.

It's not just resteraunts where children get on my proverbial tits. Museums. I have never understood why parents think it a good idea to drag 4 year old Jack through an exhibition about coal mining in Zambia. He's not arsed, and neither are you. Just go away. I want to touch lumps of coal inappropriately in peace. The reason children are always rowdy in these places is that not enough emphasis is placed on museums, libraries and historical sites. If people would talk to their kids, tell them just what the places mean, then maybe they'd shut their goddamned ice-cream covered mouths and read.

Too many times I've seen women with more children than they can control, smoking like a Welsh power station, and with the intellectual ability of a cowpat. I could honestly punch someone like that. Repeatedly. Probably adding a few hits with whatever blunt object was at hand. IT'S YOUR OWN FUCKING FAULT. WHY SHOULD EVERYONE ELSE PAY FOR YOUR FUCKING KIDS. EH!? It's not our fault your legs are a revolving door for pregnancy and syphillis.

To get back to the point, if your child can't stop running around screaming, it's not their fault, it's yours. It's ruining everyone elses time, and making everyone uncomfortable because everyone wants to shove that child back up whence it came. I beg you, stop having children. I don't want to pay for them. I don't want to have them vomiting in my burger or sandwich, and I don't want them thinking it's funny to throw things at the tall guy who is about to murder them.

The World according to Rich - Holidays Abroad

I know you're expecting me to rant about how insufferable foreign people are when they're visiting Britain and how British people are the international ambassadors for civility.

Sorry, but no. Let me start by outlining the fact that I aknowledge that the vast majority of British tourists are constantly drunk, and throwing furniture at Germans. If not that, our women are orange and are wearing less fabric than an aspirin bottle, and the men wear speedos constructed with fishing wire.

But that doesnt give other countries a get-out-of-jail-free card. No. Each country has their flaws, just as we do. Russians for example, are as white as a BNP supporter and look at you with a ravenous desire to put radioactive things in your scrambled egg. Don't be fooled. He's imagining you in the back of his Lada with no head.

The Dutch are bloody everywhere - even Wales. Now, of all the destinations to choose on your tour of the UK, why pick Ystalyfera and Ystradgynlais? Not exactly casino capital of the world. Sure, there are the Brecon Beacons, but you can get to those from other places. Stop clogging up my roads with your Opel people carriers.

The French complain about the fact they cant buy toasted snails in Greggs, and when you're in France, look at you like you just kicked their dad in the plums because you aren't fluent in French. The Germans have the humour of a poached oyster, and eat sausage for breakfast, when they aren't busy plotting.

If you ever go to visit Spain expecting to see matadors asking for a bulls horn through their nads, you're rigged for disappointment - the place is choc-a-bloc full of people from Liverpool vomiting over a fruit stand and falling over. Italy is no better; its full of people on scooters going at incredibly high speed to absolutely nowhere - hell, even Venice hasnt thought to call a plumber.

The Americans, oh man. Perfectly polite people, and would give you about £20,000 just for being British, but they always talk to each other like one is still in the United States and can only just hear them it's like they have Caps Lock on for their vocal chords. And they always seem so disappointed that we don't still go around in horse and carriage whilst wearing top hats and a monacle.

There's no point going to the Middle East either, you'll either be shot or toasted whilst a man called Abdul steals your wallet. I can go to Egypt with some builders sand and by turning the central heating up.

In short, why spend your child's kidney flying over to god knows where to get food poisoning, when you can just go to your local kebab shop for £3?

The World according to Rich - The Jobcentre

Eurgh. I'm almost too pissed off to write this entry. Goddamnit. The Jobcentre. The biggest oxymoron in Britain.

I've been using it to try to find work for months; working my ass off applying to dozens of jobs, none of which even have the common courtesy to call back and say I didnt get the job. What kind of help do I get from the Jobcentre, I hear you ask? Help with your CV? Cover letters?

None of the above. They do as little as possible, and treat you as if you've just punched their sainted mother in the face. The picture above isnt even an exaggeration. They really are that fucking huge. I have half a mind to go in next time and begin the conversation with "Oochie-chowabee, Solooo"


They're grotesquely obese, grotesquely stupid, grotesquely rude, and grotesquely incompetent. I would honestly rather eat the asshole of Piers Morgan than have to deal with them.

You walk in, are sat waiting for about 20 minutes whilst they have a gossip and play solitaire; then finally when you are seen, they talk to you like you're a 5 year old who just grazed their knee.

Me: "I'm really having trouble getting to the interview stage"
Them: "Its disheartening isnt it :/"

WELL WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT YOU FUCKING USELESS WELSH ZEPPELIN?! GODFUCKINGDAMNIT.

I had to miss an appointment for personal reasons one Friday, so I went in on Tuesday and filled out the appropriate form, fine. At no point did they say I would have to turn up 3 days later - does that make sense to you? No, me neither. So, instead of calling me on Thursday, just to say "Just reminding you that you need to come in tomorrow aswell" - you know, as a normal person would in a potentially confusing situation, I got fuck all until *I* rang *THEM* - after which I was told to forward my reasons to the

DECISION MAKER OMG!!

Who, whilst the name sounds cool, is just some fat bloke who has to stop as much money being paid as possible. Of course, the only reasonable explanations for absence include being turned inside out, losing both arms, or having no head.

Now, I wont lie to you, yeah, I'm being paid benefits; but unlike so many people my age, I still live with my folks, have no fucking children, and only claim what I need to run my car, which is essential to me looking for work. Yet, I'm treated by these human airships like I'm dogshit on the bottom of their shoe.

I get about £50 a week - now, to put that in perspective, my car insurance costs £180 a month, which is about £50 a week. That's not including petrol, servicing, road tax, and spending £68 to have a chip in the windscreen fixed.

In short, my question is this, if the government is so intent on getting people into work, why the FUCK aren't jobseekers provided with more tools with which to do so? At the moment, all I've been offered is printouts of information I can find online - which coincidentally is "Not their problem" if it's lost after a few weeks. The very least they could do it stop waddling over to each others desks and talking about bullshit whilst everyone else sits and waits for a few decades.

I think I just solved the mystery of why I didnt get that phonecall!

The telephone was probably an appetiser for their main course of a small Toyota.

The World according to Rich - Being Tall

Well, its annoying more times than it's cool, let's be honest. Being tall isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Now, I know those who are at less than average height are going "Pshaw, better than being short", well, no, it isn't. Trust me. It's a hell of alot easier to compensate for a shorter person than it is to compensate for a taller one.

Let's look at the evidence...





CLOTHING:

Is a pain in the ass to find. No two ways about it. When you do finally find the right leg length, the clothes are so ugly you wouldn't dress a giraffe in them. Same with shirts and jackets. Try finding a suit that fits. You'll be hard pressed to find one off the peg, which means you'll have to pay through the ass to have one tailor made. Shoes are exactly the same. You're paying more to cater for something you have absolutely no control over. I can understand if you're so grotesquely fat you have to wear a tarp, but come on, you cant help how tall you are, and I cant exactly take a chunk out of my foot to squeeze into a size 10 or 11 (I'm a 15) can I. Therefore, I'm expected to pay upwards of £60 for a pair of simple shoes, whereas others can get them for about £25-30. Sound fair to you? Fuckers.





CARS -

As I had already alluded to in a previous rant, finding affordable transport when you're north of 6' 3" is a task and a half. Fitting in the car is one thing, but actually having a car you can use for anything other than driving by yourself is difficult. I can fit a max of two when I'm driving (unless someone has no legs, then it's all good, let me know and I'll hack em off for you) and I can only just afford to insure the car I've got now. If you're young and tall, you're fucked automotively, frankly.


THEME PARKS -

Probably one of the most annoying factors. Very rarely have I met a rollercoaster in the UK that has enough legroom for someone who actually possesses legs. Its depressing, because I always feel like I'm missing out. I want to vomit on the 6 year old girls in the car behind just as much as the next man, but cant because whoever makes the rides cant add an extra 5 inches to the front of the seats. I actually almost got my head taken off in America riding one. There was a low wooden sign, and if my girlfriend of the time hadnt grabbed my head, I'd probably be typing this from the morgue in North Carolina. Erk.


PEOPLE -

Yeah. People. Thats the biggest annoyance I have when it comes to this issue. I know I'm tall. I dont need to be reminded every five seconds by you, or anyone else. If there was a PhD in Stating the Fucking Obvious with a Bachelor's in Dumbassery, then the people who stand gawping and saying "Wow, he's tall" would graduate with honours. I also hate it when people come up to me and ask me if I play any generic sport where large people are employed. "Do you play basketball? Do you play rugby? Why not?" - its a bit like asking a midget "Do you get shot out of a cannon? Are you involved in a theatrical version of Snow White?" it's offensive. And I dont play either because they just dont interest me. Sure, I'd probably be okay at basketball, but I'm not going to run and sign up just because I'm 6' 7". But it seems people think that's the only thing I *can* do because of that. Piss off. I'll go play bikini volleyball if I want to.

It really pisses me off too when people whisper to each other and stare at me, instead of striking up a conversation. If you approached me and said "Excuse me, how tall are you?" Fine, I'd smile and tell you, then have a nice chat. But instead, people just whisper and giggle, and make me feel rather uncomfortable.

People who know me well know I'm an incredibly gentle giant. (Hard to believe reading some of these rants, I know, but it's true) That said, it confused me during my school days that people seemed to think it a good idea to single out the biggest guy with the biggest fists to pick on. If I wasn't me, I probably could've seriously hurt someone. I think I've only ever punched someone two or three times in my whole life, and that was when they pushed a little bit too far. Jibes against me I can take, but my friends and family, no. I remember once I was freezing cold after walking to school in the snow, only to be told it was closed; and some fucknut decided to smash a snowball in the side of my face. I turned around, calmly grabbed him by the collar and lamped him so hard he couldnt stand up for a few minutes; then walked home. Funnily enough, the abuse stopped after that.

In conclusion, being tall isnt all it's cracked up to be. Sure there are people bigger than me, but I'm not living their lives. I'm stuck with mine, and frankly, it'd be alot easier if people could just get to know me before thinking I'll eat their child and house.


(Wow, that was quite a timid post, wasn't it.)






Much better.