Category Archives: 3RANT

A little politics

Largely I am political with a small p rather than having any particular party line affiliation but I do feel the need to blog about the impossible stream of vileness that is coming out of Manchester at the moment. In fact I can’t even blog about it I am so cross, luckily Tom Reynolds has.

Sadly there is an air of inevitability that these wretched people will be running the country next year.


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3RANT – 31st March

1. And the point of trainers with high heels is? Okay, I have and understand trainers – they’re vile with little aesthetic purpose but (rather like Jennifer Patterson’s pronouncements on yogurt for poorly tummies) I get the purpose. But with heels? You can’t run in the damn things and they look ridiculous. No, it is wrong.

2. Going out on a social occasion for a work-related event on a Monday? Wrong. Invented by sad people. Added to which if you’re going to have a pub quiz don’t have four questions on ths year’s BRITS and all the questions on music and film. I never thought I’d be in a situation where I wanted to be asked to identify a flag or what are the smallest bones in the body.

3. Realising when the alarm goes off that you don’t need to be up until two hours later. Grrr.

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3RANT – 1st February

1. This really annoys me. It might sound pathetic in the grand scheme of things but it really annoys me when people treat language as unimportant. It’s just laziness. Apostrophes (and grammar in general) are remarkably easy to master if you just put the effort in. For goodness sake I managed to teach the basic premise of an apostrophe to my lovely African ladies and I am no teacher and they were hardly (with all due respect) the creme de la creme of students (excuse me whilst I come over all Miss Brodie).

2. The general craziness of Terminal 3 last night. It took 25 minutes to get through the tunnel at Heathrow and past the car park barriers (even then we crawled up the ramps, clutch control was required big time). I have  no idea if there should be a third runway at Heathrow (on the plus side it would stop them building it elsewhere and let’s face it, it probably has to be built; on the down side, the planes will fall out of the sky one day because there isn’t enough oil), but what I do know is that as a national airport is a disgrace and I feel slightly ashamed that it’s many people’s first impression of our country. (My parents are home safe and sound after two months though so this is a good thing).

3. Giving up smoking is bloody difficult. It’s not the nicotine, it’s the habit and when things go awry (as they have done big time this week), my (un)natural reaction is to have a fag. Grrr…this is annoying.

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3BT – 1st January 2009

I know I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions but I am quite determined to me master (or mistress depending on if we have to be gender appropriate) of my own destiny this year…

1. Dancing with The Beloved and remembering how much fun it is.

2. Realising that beetroot is actually rather nice (although still have to grips with the fact it turns everything purple which, despite being my favourite colour, is not necessarily a good look for all food).

3. Having a fantastic night and waking up absolutely hangover free this morning. Good lord am I turning into a grown up.

4. Having three new years thanks to some geographical diversity.

and a RANT (just the one):

A Cream Egg ad – it’s 1st January for heaven’s sake!

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3RANT – 9th October

1. A civilised drink with my friend being totally distracted by the loud, full of himself person at the table next door – turns out it was Malcolm McLaren who I guess – by very definition – is loud and full of himself.

2. People who spit especially in public especially leaving pavements a minefield. It’s disgusting and unhygienic and has got really bad in the past couple of weeks. Not sure if it’s a London thing but I’m fairly sure it’s worse here than anywhere else.

3. The media’s constant doom-mongering. Yes things are not great at the moment but I’m sure the media is fuelling half of it.

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And introducing…

I’ve been mulling this idea over for a few weeks and it’s a bastardisation of the lovely Clare Grant’s 3BT– for which I apologise but I am afraid I live in London and I’m cynical so I would like to introduce the 3 Really ANnoying Things or 3RANT. I will try my hardest to make 3BT more regular than 3RANT but there are times I just need to vent. I will attempt to stick at three but this has been brewing for a while…

1. I have revisited the joys of peak time public transport this week. Now on the whole public transport is a jolly excellent idea and I enjoy being able to go around London on my Oyster card (even though London public transport is the most expensive). But try to get anywhere in peak hours on time without leaving hours in advance…pah! Actually it’s the buses I have issue with at the moment rather than the tube.

But then you get on to the tube and you die in the heat (even in September). So hurrah they’ve announced air con. But will it be available on the tube lines that actually need it? Oh no, it’s those poxy not really underground lines which spend so much time overground you get a breeze anyway. In an age where scientific advances are so amazing you would think that keeping cool on proper underground lines was not beyond the wit of an intelligent man (an intelligent man you note not the numpties in charge of TfL).

2. Deliveries. Argh the postman! He regularly delivers stuff for other people to our house. But perhaps worse, he delivers our stuff to other people’s houses. Luckily there is a sort of neighbourhood network of sorting this out which means that (by and large) The Beloved’s DVDs do eventually arrive. The problem is you are disiinclined to complain because who knows what he’ll do to the mail if you’ve moaned.

But all of this pales into insignificance compared to my joyful DHL experience today. So I arrive home to a parcel which has been left (and I quote) “behind bin – front door”. Look behind bin (all excited) and no parcel. Now we may have a thieving element in my neighbourhood (this is London remember) or we may have an unscrupulous delivery bod but either which way the ****ing parcel is not there. So I phone DHL. The phone system is beyond the comprehension of the most telephonically savvy human being (especially when your “code” doesn’t work). By the time I got through to a human being the human beings I needed to speak to had gone home. Argh!

3. Rude questions. So there is a question which many people might (and obviously do) feel completely justified in asking me. “Do you have children?” Now there are certain people I don’t mind me asking that question: medical professionals and (surprisingly although illegal) employers. But it’s amazing how many random people feel this is an appropriate avenue of questioning. I wonder how they would react if I actually fronted up and told them why I don’t have children.

4. Which in a way brings me on to the next subject (and I know I’m over three but this is my first one and – as I mentioned – I have been brooding…). So a couple of months ago I was told (with absolutely no explanation) that I needed to change my Pill. Now at this point you need to bear in mind that I started to take the Pill way before I became sexually active because of vile hormone issues. So I started taking Micronor. Six weeks of hell ensued. No period, huge weight gain (about 8 kgs- which is over a stone – okay so I’m not a gym bunny but that was the only thing that changed in my life), breasts of extraordinary soreness and a general mood of bleurgh. Went back to my GP, eventually got an explanation that I shouldn’t really take the normal Pill because of a risk of breast cancer – fair enough – but she didn’t know what to do so off to the Family Planning Clinic. Met a lovely dr who said I probably could go back to the proper Pill if my moods were hideously murderous but first we have to go through the ‘trying other options’. So I’m now on Cerazette. So two weeks in…a permanent period, even more weight gain (about 2 kg but on top of the rest…well it’s a lot) and still the shitty mood. Fuck knows what will happen next. I am not happy. 

5. Being last. Ah yes, being last. Behind the job, behind the random friend commitments. Scant interest in issue 4. Oh it’s going so well. Shouldn’t really be a RANT as far too depressing and largely my own fault (I should be braver).

6. Okay double the number probably not acceptable but can you imagine how hard it is to support Southampton at the moment?

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