Friday 20 April 2012

Watch Jew Looking At?

Prepare to feel really sorry for me.

I am a white, heterosexual man with no real physical disabilities (ugliness and mild obesity are still, criminally, overlooked, as full disabilities). I’m from a working class background but haven’t let this force me into a life of being unhappily married at 22, with 4 kids I don’t really want. I’m educated to a degree level – I have a degree. I earn above the national average wage and am in full-time employment.

Why should you feel sorry for me? Having met me is not an answer here: I am specifically referring to the information given in the previous paragraph. The reason you should feel sorry for me is I am part of no of minority in society; and certainly not one described by offensive epithets. And I really, really want to be able to take some offensive phrase  and make it how I refer to myself, taking ownership. So, yes: you should definitely feel sorry for me as I don’t get to to do this.

At the moment I would proper love to be Jewish and owning the shit out of the word ‘hebe’ in light of Mel Gibson’s latest dabble with being mental and racist. Apart from liking the reclaiming of words from racists, hebe just sounds good: it is phonetically pleasing to my ears and mouth. But I am stuck not being able to say it: where is the justice in this world? Jews have no idea how lucky they are.

Old Man Cheetham’s Place

I was back in Stalybridge for the night, to see my folks and then to go out with my mate, Old Man Cheetham.

The best thing about going out in Stalybridge with Old Man Cheetham is that I will generally crash in his spare room rather than get the train home. The best thing about Old Man Cheetham’s spare room (and existence) is the bed spread he has on his spare bed. As you can see from the below picture it’s a Manchester United themed bed spread that you might expect to find on a 7-year old’s bed. Indeed I had the very style of bedspread until I was about ten (14). Of course I realised I was a bit of a loser having a bedspread with a football badge all over it. What about the women I would be taking to bed (in another 15 years)? So I upgraded from the childish pattern you see below to one that was a double-sided effort; one side was Steve Bruce and Bryan Robson celebrating with the inaugural Premier League trophy on one side and a picture of Ryan Giggs in full flow on the other side. I have tried to find a picture of it on the internet but can’t. Not so fucking clever when I need a picture of a bedspread sold about 20 years ago are you internet?

I also had the lamp that Old Man Cheetham (pointlessly) keeps shadeless and bulb-less on the window sill of his room. I always loved that lamp. One of my favourite things about it was the little picture of a football on the back. Sure, it was a really nice little picture of a football  – but it was on the back of the lamp base so no-one would ever see it. Also the base of the lamp is a glass likeness of a football so it is a football on a football: mental.

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