Nothing better to do
I'm writing this concealed under the coffee table as I've heard there are teams of Daily Mail hacks scouring South Cheshire seeking out examples of class violation with which to edify their dwindling readership.
Not wishing to betray my working class upbringing, albeit in a nice house in the home counties, I will be printing out a poster to pin on the front door listing some valuable class identifiers. Boxes ticked will include the fact that we buy all of our furniture from MFI and that yes, I will be purchasing some car flags for the MPV. I also promise to let my front garden overgrow and to argue out loud at three am in the middle of the street. Dropping litter all over my neighbour's front garden is mandatory as is drinking foul tasting lager straight from the bottle while letting my Staffordshire bull terrier shit in the park. I will dump my guitar based rock albums in favour of some migraine inducing drum 'n' bass crap that can loosen teeth from 50 yards courtesy of the 2000 watt power amp replacing the back seat of my Citroen Saxo. I also promise to buy a 48" television set in order to obscure all natural light through the living room front window.
Perish the thought that the lazy bastards who write the witless shite that passes for news in their paper should have ever spotted me playing croquet with my Mum and Dad on our back lawn when I was a kid. I'll never be able to show my face in the charity shops around here again.
Not wishing to betray my working class upbringing, albeit in a nice house in the home counties, I will be printing out a poster to pin on the front door listing some valuable class identifiers. Boxes ticked will include the fact that we buy all of our furniture from MFI and that yes, I will be purchasing some car flags for the MPV. I also promise to let my front garden overgrow and to argue out loud at three am in the middle of the street. Dropping litter all over my neighbour's front garden is mandatory as is drinking foul tasting lager straight from the bottle while letting my Staffordshire bull terrier shit in the park. I will dump my guitar based rock albums in favour of some migraine inducing drum 'n' bass crap that can loosen teeth from 50 yards courtesy of the 2000 watt power amp replacing the back seat of my Citroen Saxo. I also promise to buy a 48" television set in order to obscure all natural light through the living room front window.
Perish the thought that the lazy bastards who write the witless shite that passes for news in their paper should have ever spotted me playing croquet with my Mum and Dad on our back lawn when I was a kid. I'll never be able to show my face in the charity shops around here again.
posted by Richard at 9:48 pm
6 Vegetable peelings:
My sister had a plastic boule set.
Maybe Prescott should be playing shove ha'penny in a smoke filled room.
Dear Sir,
I read the Daily Mail item and assumed it must have been written as a send up by a journalist who was resentful of having to work over the Bank Holiday.
Then I saw something on this morning's news about calls from within the Labour party for Two Shags to resign because of the game of croquet.
Yours in anger,
A disgusted tax paying curtain twitching middle class Mail reading c*nt
Regardless of the croquet and the Daily Mail, the guys a twat and he should walk now.
To think I voted Labour, oh no actually I did't, thank god for that.
So, the class system is alive and well across the pond?
It is everywhere, Pamela. Look at New Orleans for a rather graphic illustration of it working in your own neck of the woods.
It doesn't matter what social or political ideology you follow, there will always be the haves and the have nots. Even if we were all born millionaires there would be those who would strive and cheat their way to becoming billionaires.
As a sailor's son growing up in Norfolk, Virginia in the 1970's, it was less than a decade after the city had removed the last 'sailors and dogs keep off the grass' signs. I recall quite well that Navy dependents and blacks were considered to be the trashier elements in city schools back then.
Guess that explains my leaning toward civil rights
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