Tuesday 19 September 2017

Stating the bleeding obvious

A few weeks ago I wrote a piece about signs stating the bleedingy obvious. As this post was received with mind-numbing apathy I've decided to repeat the process. Also, this type of post is piss easy to put together as the pictures write the story. Being a particularly lazy, but wonderfully put together fella, imbued with idleness and sloth, this sort of post suits my nature. All have to do is add is a few dry, wry, laconic comments and then I can bugger off to the pub for a quart, or two, of refreshing ale with my beer drinking ferret, Shagger.

Read and be amazed.



To be honest it is probably better to throw away the pizza and eat the box as far nutrition and taste is concerned. Have you tried Domino's pizza these days? The advice on the box is clearly aimed at the product demographic: dumb, young and intoxicated. 




Perhaps aimed at the consumer with a lacklustre appreciation of the gravity concept. Though to be fair most folks don't understand that gravity is merely an artefact of mass warping space-time. You know that 'civilisation' is doomed when you start to see this sort of advice. Of course, the folks who don't know which way up to hold a cup are also unlikely to be able to read. 


I've done some stupid stuff when I was a young man. I suppose it's a natural part of growing up. Luckily, most men learn from experience and come out the other side as decent citizens. For some folk, it is a near run thing. And for a sad minority it turns out to be their continuing reality. There is nothing as sad as seeing a middle-aged man acting like an immature teenager. And being drunk is never a valid excuse. From a developmental perspective they have become stuck. The learning process has become bypassed and they are doomed to become a target of ridicule, for ever. When I was 19 and drunk, I might have thought it a good idea to sit on a patient and inert crocodile. Luckily, for the furtherance of mankind, I never had the opportunity.




Now for me, this is sound advice. I'm drawn to fire. It activates and titivates a primeval atavistic desire. As I've aged, I have managed to keep my incendiary proclivities under control. There are those who aver that I burned down my alma mater (Tipton Secondary Modern) the day after I left. Scurrilous rumours, say I. The circumstantial evidence might have been strong, but the rozzers could never pin it on me as they were reliant on a frank confession, which they never got; eat your heart out, Inspector Drysdale.

Anyway, the notice is rather sensible. Don't ever throw your children onto a fire. C'mon, kids are precious little dumplings. However, if they are really naughty you could always expose them to a little, light singeing.  Nuff said.


If you don't know how to check whether your baby has had a shit then I suspect that this parenting thingy is not for you. Just get a ferret, they shit and piss all over the place. No need for a nappy, just put paper down in every corner. For some strange reason ferrets like to shit in corners. I've always thought it wise that prospective parents should undergo some form of IQ test. Those that don't make the grade are then sterilised. It's an observation of mine that those folk least fit to be parents are the ones that have the most kids.


Continuing with the bad parenting theme. Although it has to said that if you wash item with little L'Oriel (pronounced: poor white/black trash) still inside you will be saving on water and energy. And we must take care of the environment or hippy, greeny, whiney types get very upset. 



Not sure what to make about this disturbing image. When would it occur to anyone to stick a fuel nozzle up their arse (arse)? Takes anal probing to a whole new level. "Honestly doctor I slipped in the petrol station forecourt".  

Enough insanity for now. I promise my next post will be quite sensible about sensible stuff, honest.



13 comments:

  1. Brilliant stuff. On par with the previous offerings. Just my sense of humour.

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  2. Some other moronic signs:
    "Slippery when wet" seen at the swimming pool.
    "May contain nuts" on a packet of Brazil nuts (not peanuts of course, as they're legumes).
    But as we're bringing up a brainwashed generation who struggle to read & write, let alone comprehend, soon all warning signs will just be pictures.

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    1. I read a study that in 50 years all the kids will be autistic, so none of this will matter.

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  3. It's mostly down to m'learned friends who have been suing for (and winning, thanks to vacuous hizzonners) humongous sums when some utter moron hurts himself/herself through doing something no right-minded person would ever even imagine, let alone do. This has led to the proliferation of seemingly moronic warning signs by those concerned with thwarting these ungodly legals.

    My own opinion is that we should remove ALL warning signs anklet nature take its course: assisting the Darwin awards thusly would, in the not-too-distant-future, make these ludicrous lawsuits go away.

    Then we could concentrate on examining what sort of cull would be needed in the legal world.

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    1. *and let - not anklet. Sodding autocorrect/autocomplete.

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    2. Sadly, you are dead right. The litigation culture is to blame especially in the US. Don't worry about the typos Ted, I always get the gist.

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  4. And seen on a Breem water boiler, "Caution: May contain hot water"

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    1. I think Ted Tween hit it on the head when he mentioned the litigation culture prevalent in the West and particularly in the States. Thus, companies protect themselves to the hilt with their bizarre caveats.

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  5. My Dearest Father, everyone with but a nonce knows that the theory of gravity is just that - a theory. Just like the theory of evolution, which all should know as patently false, due to God hitting the beers a bit too hard and drunkenly humping the universe into being

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    1. Matt, can you tell your mom to stop pestering me for child support for little Shi-Anne. Isn't it enough that I acknowledge you as my bastard offspring. Not sure whether Shi-Anne is one of mine, although he does look like me. If I paid maintenance for all my illegitimate children I'd be a poor man rather than a wealthy man.

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    2. It's too bad the whole "pass an IQ test to be allowed to procreate" isn't a real thing, then. Knowing the women you woo (i.e. their posteriors are more metabolically active than their craniums), there would be quite a few less little Saxons running around. As it is, it doesn't require much intelligence to stick rude bits together and jiggle them - the intelligence is required either when applying contraceptives beforehand or having the forethought to withdraw before the moment of climax.

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    3. Sex education was never on the curriculum at Tipton Secondary Modern. What I learned in the bike sheds is that if you put your watch around your bollocks an hour before sex so the radium present in the dial paint acts as a temporary sterilant. From bitter experience I learned that this was a lie, together with the use of cling film. Thus I'm burdened with an extended family of bastards. Off all my kids, only one is legit.

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