1: Martin the Liberal Democrat
There have been some local elections going on. To be honest, I don't tend to follow politics - I'm a student and thus have more pressing things to worry about, such as Why Have All Of My Clothes Shrunk Three Sizes Oh Man Stupid Washing Machine, but this is the sort of thing that you can't really ignore. I don't know who (if I did, then that fucker would be right on this list) but somebody has put me on some sort of list which means that my mail box is clogged up with about seventeen trillion electoral manifests. Usually I carefully read all of these to build up an accurate picture of the pros and cons of each candidate's policies (throw them directly into the bin) and, having thought through the issue, make an informed and well-considered decision as to who to go to vote for (either forget, or only vote to cancel out the vote of somebody voting for an Evil Party, like the BNP or Kilroy). However, one electoral manifest caught my eye, and then proceeded to annoy me so much that I was physically compelled to go out and vote just to be awkward and annoying. It was from this guy called Martin and took the form of a scanned hand-written letter (so it was meant to look like he had written it specifically to me). Martin was exhorting me to vote for his pal Steve who "really does care about students". I didn't know you could now make electoral sheets for your mates but anyway. What tipped me off to the utter cuntworthiness of Martin's letter was really the first line:
"Hiya,
Like me, when you think of May Day you most likely think of all-night drinking, Magdelen College Choir and idiots throwing themselves into the river."
lol u r totally rite! Idiot. Firstly... "Hiya"? This indicates to me that Martin, far from being a "2nd Year Lawyer", is in fact a thirteen year old girl. I bet his room is filled with posters of Orlando Bloom and Troy from High School Musical, and he has those shiny stickers all over his mirror, and he's a girl. Secondly, he definitely doesn't immediately associate May Day with all-night drinking. I mean, I'm a total lad but I don't associate May Day with all night drinking. To be honest, I don't think that Martin's even ever stayed up all night drinking, unless you count that one time he had two Archers-and-Lemonades and then stayed up til 2 in the morning watching a High-School-Musical-Princess-Bride-Mean-Girls MARATHON and eating a whole packet of Haribo Tangfastic (but not the sour rings because the sugar hurts his teeth) and talking about BOYS with his girlfriends Sally and Mischa and then practising kissing on his hand and bogling to Aswad in front of the mirror with a hairbrush as a microphone. Secondly, I really really hope he didn't just try to be my best friend with his little quip about 'idiots throwing themselves into the river' because right now I can think of only one person who should be thrown into a river (that person is Martin).
The other thing he did that annoyed me was he assumed he knew my political stance (lol students all h8 the government) and wrote the damn letter like he was giving me some little confidential tipoff about the political stock market - the final sentence was a little PS about how the Lib Dems and Labour are the only ones with a chance, and so 'Voting Lib Dem is the best way to give Gordon Brown a headache this Thursday'. I don't want to give Gordon Brown a headache. He seems like a Thoroughly Nice Chap:
Anyway, the upshot of this letter is that I actively decided that I was going to put on some clothes, get up and go out to vote for somebody else, just so that I was damaging the Lib Dems as much as possible.
Seriously, he started his letter with 'Hiya', what a complete twat.
The Greedy Hobo
On the way to the voting hall to vote some hobo came up to me and asked for some money. Now usually I don't give money to the homeless, mostly because there's no immediate return on my investment, but for some reason I decided to treat this guy. Perhaps it was because he looked pretty clean and there were no obvious running sores. Perhaps because the prospect of voting had awakened my political saliva glands. Anyway, I dug about in my pocket and gave him 50p. Pretty pretty generous, if you ask me, and I was expecting a little bit of gratitude - I mean the other night I gave a homeless woman 30p and she nearly had an orgasm she was so grateful at my philanthropic nature. 'You, sir, are an angel' she probably said, a tear running down her leathery cheek as she sank deep down on one knee and kissed my offered hand. 'Not at all, peasant, I exist not as a master to take out, but a servant to put in' I proclaimed beneficially, casually waving my silken handkerchief behind me as I minced off amidst a cloud of fine perfume. So I was expecting this hobo to at least humbly take off his flat cap and wring it between his hands in subservient deference to the obvious class distinctions between us, and the huge leap of generosity it had taken for me to jump off my feathery parade horse and bless him with a charitable donation. Instead he looked at the 50p with obvious disgust and said 'Boss, not gonna give me a quid?'.
Now I appreciate him calling me 'Boss' but frankly I wanted to ask for my 50p back. Nobody seems to get that people give to the homeless in order to see the looks of shocked gratitude on their dirty little faces. That's the return on the investment. This guy wasn't playing by the rules. Greedy. And because he wasn't satisfied I'm going to take the £3 I was going to donate to a homeless charity and instead spend it on a novelty salt cellar. HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT. Fucker.
Facebook Status Girl
I think maybe two or three blogs ago I mentioned how I detest people who have COMEDY FACEBOOK STATUSES that are all themed. Especially people who use the theme to whinge about something. And people who talk incessantly about their gap years. Anyway, this is the shit that I've had to put up with for the past three weeks from this girl:
Katharine watched sunset whilst chainsawing down trees in the Aus outback,and needs her fella. 9:18am
Yesterday
Katharine can now drive a tractor and wants her fella. 10:06am
April 28
Katharine is on a ranch and wants her fella. 11:30am
April 27
Katharine sunburnt and wants her fella. 10:36am
April 26
Katharine went to Steve Irwins zoo and wants her fella. 11:49am
April 24
Katharine is in Brisbane and wants to be with her fella. 1:28pm
Firstly it's spelt 'fellow': "Katharine is in Brisbane and wants to be with her fellow". Secondly fuck off.
The Hugging Couple in the Dining Hall a few nights ago
I know that the title said that there were only five people who could fuck off, and this one features a couple which is technically two people, but seriously, these two operated so successfully as one entity that I'm fairly sure that there must be some biological symbiosis going on, at least at a molecular level. Anyway I was waiting in the queue in the dining hall and these two knobheads rolled in. Now you all know me, I am a respectful person who understands and will fight to the death to defend the love of two third year students, but at the same time, there's a line to be drawn in the sand. And these two crossed it so many times. Firstly, they were hugging - AND WALKING ALONG - like this:
The man's arm seems remarkably long and bendy in that picture but it gets the idea across: the guy was like embracing the woman from behind, holding one hand clutched to her crotch, while she held his other hand tight to his side, allowing them to whisper sweet nothings into each others' ears at will. I'm as big a fan of public displays of affection as the next guy but I won't pull my punches here, they looked like a fucken crab, sidling along the hall with that horrendously smug 'Look at us, we are in a fucking RELATIONSHIP' look that drives sane people into fits of apoplectic shrieking rage. Honestly, unless he was blind and she was his seeing-eye girlfriend (which I, to be honest, find unlikely) there was no need to walk along like that. What was especially annoying was that they ended up standing directly behind me in the queue. it seemed that the guy hadn't quite sorted out his 'girlfriend steering depth perception' because they were squished right up against me so I could hear all of their inane whisperings which were by the way IN FRENCH. At this bit I was furious and starting to take out my impotent anger on all and sundry around me.
For whatever reason, the hall happened to be filled with random asian people, including the chap who is known far and wide amongst me and one of my friends as 'Slow Asian Man'. The queue is designed so one person gets served at a time, and for some reason this guy in a little bobble hat takes absolutely hours to do anything: select his meal, choose a desert, pour custard on his sauce, pay for his meal (WHICH HE ALWAYS DOES IN CASH FFS JUST GET A LUNCH CARD) and everybody else has to just sit patiently waiting for him to sort his life out. Anyway I was behind him (that's right, slowy mcbobble hat on one side, the crab couple on the other) and so by the time we got to the custard I was fuming with barely compressed rage. I mean, the crab couple ordered exactly the same thing and shared both of their food ON THE SAME PLATE AND TRAY jesus christ. Anyway the chinese guy was taking roughly fifteen hours to pour custard on his pudding. Ahead of him everybody else paid and left and stuff started to bottleneck. Unfortunately, that's how the queue is built and it only works if you accept that the retard will always hold you up. So I was waiting patiently for him to sort his life out, when THE CRAB COUPLE SKIPPED AHEAD OF ME. That's right, they left the queue and rejoined on the other side of the chinese guy, paid (in change, naturally) and left to eat their food.
I was so angry I shat myself.
Hitler
Seriously. The Holocaust? You complete knob.
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