Colsy28

It is 2013. We are in the the deepest recession in peacetime. Everyone is bankrupt, the banks are being bailed and not even Mr Bingley can get a mortgage.

This is because you can’t actually buy anything anymore. Internet shopping is a maze of stupid forms and pointless security questions. I have 35,000 variations of the same password for everything because each website you have to have at least one letter/number/symbol in it. I will never understand why a company needs to know that my mother’s maiden name is Stevenson before I can buy a t-shirt.

I mean, I tend to shop in supermarkets a lot and that’s great. You scoop up your packet sandwich and bag of crisps, give them to a fat lady who breathes through her mouth, she waves them at a laser, give her some money and go. Petrol stations are the same. Run in, throw a twenty pound note and the Indian man behind the counter, and run out. Easy. The mistake is when you assume buying something with a plug on it will be equally as simple.

A few months ago, I went with my girlfriend to buy a tablet (not because she was pregnant, an electronic tablet!), she had narrowed the endless library of options to just two. The Amazon Kindle and the Google Nexus 7. We went to our local Curry’s and, with a greased credit card, started looking at the two examples chained to the wall. After twelve seconds a man with a facial disease appeared and asked us if we needed any help. Of course, because my girlfriend is female, she told him she did. The man with the face fungus proceeded to say a lot of words i’m sure did not exist, and, as a result of which, my girlfriend decided to buy the Samsung Tab 2. Great. Here’s £160 bye. No. He walked us over to the other end of the shop and passed us to his friend who had lots of teeth and solid hair. Upon hearing we wanted to buy something, he turned to a computer and started writing a novel. After a week of him madly typing I did a sort of cough. He explained to us that he had to update the company’s data base in Middlesborough that he was in the process of selling a tablet. Once he had finished he started asking my girlfriend a lot of silly questions; her address, date of birth, dental records, iris scans… Presumably they do this so they can sell your details to a spammer that will ask my girlfriend if she wants a bigger penis or any PPI claimings? My girlfriend almost made him cry when she told him her current address wasn’t the same as her billing address. He had to re-program the entire company’s mainframe! Eventually he stuck the credit card into the machine and gave us a receipt.

We walked outside in a similar fashion to that of the release of the Chilean Miners. 

As, man-of-the-people, George Osbourne continues to look for ways to dig the country out of the dark hole in which we have found ourselves, it seems our Armed Forces are one of the many sectors of life to have the purse-string tightened. The British Army only has 3 machine guns as it is. The RAF have 2, barely working, helicopters. The navy have 1 submarine and 4 pedalos (and we have to share those with France).

So what i am suggesting is that we sell off advertising space. When a beautiful and powerful Bomber or Transport plane flies overhead everyone stares at the sky in awe. So why not have an Apple logo stuck to the inside of the wing? In wartime you would have to cover up the “Just Do It” posters, i’m not suggesting our soldiers fight the Taliban looking like a F1 Racing Driver, but in peacetime why not? Aston Martin Tanks, HMS Persil, Corporal Dave Smith is brought to you by Robinson’s Squash. Don’t tell me it would undermine the dignity of the greatest armed forces in history. Where’s the dignity in having helicopters so old that they can be grounded by Afgan children with stones? Where’s the dignity in our soldiers only being allowed one meal a day? Where’s the dignity in sharing our aircraft carrier with the French? 

We shouldn’t just stop with the Army here either, since it was released this week that A&E patients have to wait a month to be seen it is a perfect opportunity to make money for the NHS too. “Time your onset of MRSA with Rolex”, “This Ear, Nose & Throat Ward is sponsored by Kleenex”. It sounds ridiculous but think about it for a second. If it helps put this country where it should be for the sake of three stripes down the leg of a uniform then it’s worth it?

If not that then it’s a cunning way for these big companies to actually pay a form of tax.

One of the reasons why I am not signed up to a doctors in this country is because even if you are, you can never get to see one anyway. The dying victim has to play a telephone lottery similar to a This Morning competition and ring at sometime between 09’00 and 09’01 to potentially get an appointment. You get to the surgery on time, discuss your personal problems as loud as possible with the receptionist, then go and sit in a waiting room that is hotter than the centre of the earth with your other lucky competition winners and wait for another three hours. 

This is because the majority of doctors appointments daily are taken by “Medical Checks”. You have to have one now for mortgages, HGV licences, jobs, insurance…Right now as you are reading this, doctors surgeries up and down the land are full of middle-aged, perfectly healthy people being scraped, poked and tickled while they piss into plastic vials. I think I was the last of the generations where all doctors ever did was checked your blood pressure with an inflatable bag and tapped your knee with a rounders bat and said “that will be all Mr Collins”. Now doctors ask you if you’ve got AIDS before you’ve even sat down. Then, when you say no, they ask if you’ve ever had a bit of same-sex heroin. You have to swear you’re not a smacked up rent boy with a girlfriend that’s an East-African prostitute and the only needle i’ve ever seen is when my Nan is knitting Christmas decorations. Then you are asked the entire medical history of all your family dating back to the caveman. It’s all pointless. At some point the GP, who has no faith in his own abilities, will send you for further investigation. This means a trip to hospital where you will get lost.

Which is why any health problems I have fall into two categories. Paracetamol or Paramedic.

Throughout history there has always been war. The politics is dealt with upstairs, but, for you, its you against them. You and your territory against another. War nowadays is widely frowned upon and national service is for Daily Mail readers. We do now however, have sport. Its very much the same. People are defined by their team in competition with another. It isn’t the fighting so much as the pride. There is still local rivalries, as well as the historical ones. The team you support becomes your army. Each player a soldier, playing for and representing his people. The people will support these soldiers, willing them to succeed. When the army lose. When the team lose. The people lose too. I have walked around work today like a hollow man. I have followed my team all my life. Today I was working. Over 150miles away I was at that ground. I was on that pitch. I was fighting that battle too. When they lost, I lost. There will be another day and there will be another battle, but today i’m grieving the death of the hearts and souls of not just the soldiers in battle itself, but the thousands of hopeful dreamers who lost the battle with them. Fair play to Watford, they were the better team, but I still feel like i lost to the French in a shootout.

This film contains flashing lights, strong language, mild violence, semi-nudity and scenes that viewers may find distressing…and we cannot guarantee it was made in a nut-free studio…not suitable for vegetarians. These are sentences my Nan does not understand. In her day, if you didn’t like something, you simply turned it off or didn’t buy it. Nowadays we have these sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, snotty little people who see, hear or buy something and want to stop us seeing, hearing or buying it because it wasn’t quite to their taste. They take it really seriously. They get up. Put their anorak on. Walk to the Post Office. Buy a stamp (presumably after queuing for an age). Go back home and write a letter. It wouldn’t be so bad if they merely wished to register their disapproval, but after going to all this effort, they expect “action to be taken”.

Let’s just imagine that we lived in a world where a handful of people could have something banned by sending a letter. I could get all American tourists banned. Dogs would have to go, put them all in a sack and hit them with a cricket bat. But if Cricket has been banned by someone then I can’t do that? I’m sure I won’t be able to use a leg of lamb? Nut cutlet? No, nuts make people swell up. I cannot think of anything that doesn’t cause offence to someone. Condoms, Christianity, Cars. Everything would have to go, maybe even David Attenborough? This is where, and I never thought i’d say this, I hold respect of Tony Blair. Literally millions of people didn’t want to go to war with Iraq. Didn’t bother him in the slightest.

I have taken to walking to work. Well the weather is getting better, it only takes me an hour and it’s the only real exercise I get. Plug myself into my ipod and get a march on. I walk through the City Centre, I don’t think it’s the quickest way but it’s the most entertaining. Yesterday afternoon the sun was shining and the garden next to the City Hall was full of people chilling and enjoying themselves. Until the Morris Dancers arrived. Obviously Morris Dancing is our biggest national embarrassment, but it’s quite fascinating. I stopped to watch for a couple of minutes and it amazed me that fully grown adults would do this in public, and to what was, a quite large audience. There were ribbons, bells and braces attached to these humans that bounced and jangled as they skipped gayly around each other in the middle of the afternoon. Sheffield isn’t a massive tourist destination but there is a broad spread of race and nationality and i hoped none of them saw it. We did so well last summer re-building our international reputation from what it was to the awe of the olympics and this all threatened to ruin it. I hurried on before i was caught at the scene. These maniacs are nothing though. Just tame. Compared to the American retard. Like everything else in this world, the American’s have to be bigger and better. Their passion for lunacy surpasses that of the Italians. Their obsession with religion (a fashion we’re starting to get bored of) and a desperation for status has propelled Yanks to the moronic image they have today. Notably shooting people and blowing shit up. I genuinely believe most Americans were disappointed when it was found the Boston Bombers weren’t wearing turbans with beards. 

Because it’s frowned upon to just cull people nowadays we have to live alongside them. The idea is to push them down underground so they don’t make too much noise (North Korea have accidentally let one get in charge, and they will pay the price). So I wish to show gratitude to the bearded Morris Dancer. Thank you. Thank you for being the most harmless of the worlds retards.  

“Health and Safety” is the cancer of today’s world. Look back at our parents television, most of that wouldn’t be allowed today. We now live in a world where army training courses are fitted with hand rails. Baby walkers are banned in case the child falls into the fire. Jesus would be sued for washing the feet of the public because he used the same towel and passed on athlete’s foot, and you’re pissing in the wind Mr Christ if you think you’re gonna walk on water. Yes new legislation does stop children being rammed up chimneys, but there is now a sense that being safe is better than being happy. If you think Mr Scargill was killed by Maggie, he wasn’t. Over time he’s just been replaced by a hard-hat and a fluorescent jacket. I work in the hotel industry. I am no longer allowed to perform the very humane act of heating baby’s milk! I am allowed however to provide boiling water for the parent to dip the bottle into to heat themselves. It is embarrassing. The money spent on this clipboard box-ticking is outrageous. Not just in man-hours of training people not to fall over but also the equipment. Just where I work we have heat-proof gloves for carrying plates, chefs have non-slip shoes, there are 30 different colours of chopping boards, rubber cable covers….The human cost of the holocaust was incalculable, I fell up the stairs yesterday and it cost nothing.

This is all because of the blame culture. Because nobody lost at sports day everyone now thinks they are a winner, and therefore always right. So try telling them it’s their fault that they didn’t see that that floor was wet. I once spent an evening at the pleasure of Leicester Royal Infirmary because I managed to splash beer-line cleaner into my eye. Yes there were no goggles provided by my employer but it was MY fault I was dicking about with a corrosive liquid. Do you think i could be sued for not suing?

In 2003 a NATO led assault of the country of Iraq removed the President Saddam Hussein. His regime threatened to create anthrax, nerve gas and nuclear weapons to use against the West. He inflicted mass genocide against the Kurdish race and he bullied and tortured everyone that got in his way. After his fall in 2003 the Iraqi people celebrated jubilantly. Margaret Thatcher fought to bring democracy to countries such as this and received the same reaction upon her demise. You can’t improve a system without upsetting people. Get over it. Remember she was voted into power THREE times. I suppose if the 1980’s had twitter things would be different because then everyone would adopt someone else’s view like we do now.

Pre-watershed, nipples are not allowed to be shown on British television because they are deemed “unsuitable for children”…

So many things we take for granted now were major events in history. Jesus for example. The story regarding his birth is a problem every single day for Jeremy Kyle’s lie-detector, but Easter is my favourite. The man books a table at the local restaurant. Invites a bloke called “Judas”! (I mean Judas! A name like that is always gonna stitch you up innit!) It all kicks off a bit because Jesus votes that everybody should split the bill, but Judas says he hasn’t had a starter and Peter ordered the beef, which was more expensive than anything else on the menu. Jesus wants to cover it up a bit because he knows he’s had more red wine than anyone else and because of that he can’t really remember who else had what anyway. Judas pays his fair share and storms out. The night goes on and the wine carries on flowing, they all end up in a night club called Meth-lehem. Chips and cheese then home. Next morning Jesus feels shit. Spends the day in bed, turns his phone off and watches a boxset. Sunday he feels better so meets the boys to watch the football, tells Paul he feels like he’s come back from the dead, and it all gets taken out of hand. Journalism was taken more seriously then. 

Only when your internet is shit, and the miserable purple revolving circle continuously appears, do you realise how much of the television we watch in precisely in the middle of the screen.