AAAARRRGH!

I just published a holding message here saying I was taking a break from blogging because of real life intervening, which is just a posh way of saying I could not be arsed with it for a while and my last few posts annoyed me. Anyway, I was about to take a break and then I saw this:


For fuck's sake! It's the Sun saying Wayne Rooney is going posh because he's taking two GCSEs. Two sodding GCSEs and that's meant to be posh. What's gone fucking wrong with this country?

Who says toff outside the pages of a 1950s edition of the Dandy? Who? I want to know so I can go round their house and headbutt them in the belly so they go, 'OOF!'

I said this before in 'Super soaraway ARSEPAPER!' Posh people don't even dress like that. This is what posh people dress like:


Got it?

This is what annoys me about this paper. Slag it off and you'll get called a snob, but it's edited by someone who boasts about studying at the Sorbonne and is likely staffed with hacks with journalism degrees that they piss all over every day they go to work, and they decide their readers think having GCSEs makes you posh. Who's the patronising snob here, eh?

It's this attitude that made me stay out of university until I was 28 bloody years old. Well, that or almost terminal laziness. I haven't decided yet. It's that that kept me in an arse achingly boring set of government jobs until I was ready to climb up Big Ben with a sniper rifle. It's this attitude that made me have to go through three years of people going, 'English? What you studying that for? What job you gonna get with that?' Either that or, 'but you already speak it like a native!' Wankers!

Without the Sun, would I have had to go through so many explanations about how I didn't want to sleep with any of the women there because people in their early twenties are almost all uniformly dribblingly dull and up themselves and make you willing to chew your way through metal doors to get away? I kept the bit about how nineteen-twenty year olds think that if you're not married with kids by the time you're 28 then you're a failure - especially if you get all pissed up and make an arse of yourself in front of them all - to myself. But be fair, you would have, too.

The most annoying thing is that the whole, 'what job you gonna get,' attitude is rooted in truth a bit. I have got a better job now.

But you know what? Because I've got a degree, it's fucking boring now. I find myself wondering about Jane Austen in meetings and that. Alright, not Jane Austen, Batman. But the principle's the same.

And I'm still not posh yet. Bastards.