Smellmycheese's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘students

The general elections are looming and, as a nation, we appear to have bent over in reluctant submission in preparation for a Tory government, fed up of Labour’s style of loving after thirteen years.

Personally, I’m not overly excited about the prospect of a country run by a man who wants to overturn the ban on fox hunting (good to see where David Cameron’s priorities lie as we struggle out of a global recession) and won’t be voting Tory. I’ll be ‘wasting’ my vote on Lib Dems instead, in the faint hope that maybe they’ll have some influence in the unlikely event that there’s a hung parliament.

I should say at this point, by the way, that my knowledge of politics is ill-informed and limited at best. So, if I’ve got anything wrong here, feel free to let me know. If I don’t like it I’ll just ignore it, obviously.

Really?

On that note, I think I should stop talking about things I know very little about, and move on to what the Smellmycheese Party could offer the country, were it in any way real.

The Manifesto

Public Transport

  • Some kind of force field around train doors that stops passengers slowly edging forward, as if no one else can see what they’re doing, before everyone has got off the train. The force field would have a movement-triggered sensor which, upon activation, would announce “WAIT YOUR TURN!” in Brian Blessed’s voice. Because Brian Blessed is brilliant.
  • A similar system in coach toilets, or any public conveniences, which detects people pissing on seats. Instead of Brian Blessed’s voice, Gok Wan’s, shrieking “It’s all about the confidence!”, will be broadcast around a three mile vicinity, along with a projection of the offender’s image, caught mid-piss.

Health

  • Air conditioning in doctor’s surgeries. Seriously. If you weren’t ill going in there, you’re sure as hell going to be ill after waiting for twenty five minutes in an unvented room reaching temperatures of approximately 40 degrees Celsius, while pensioners and small children hack up their phlegm in your direction.
  • Three year henna tattoos on the foreheads of cheats, reading “I’m diseased, have bad breath and definitely won’t make you come, so I really wouldn’t bother if I were you love”, or words to that effect. On reflection, that’s quite a lot to fit on a forehead. “Twat” will suffice.

Trade

  • Self checkouts that shut. the hell. UP. No, I don’t have a ‘clubcard’, yes I have placed my item in the bag and, yes, I have already inserted cash you cocky little shit, and, in a minute, I’m going to insert an ‘unexpected item’ somewhere else. Like my foot in your stupid smug face. Ha! Face, screen, whatever…
  • A nationwide ban on people wearing pyjamas to the shops, unless you live in a shop or you’re a homeless person with a mental illness. Yes students, I’m talking to you. If you’ve had time to tuck your pjs into your UGG boots, you’ve had time to put a pair of fucking jeans on. Oh how avant-garde you are with your devil-may-care attitude to clothing and your tramp chic, as you drive two metres to the Co-Op in the car Mummy and Daddy bought for you.

Cocks.

Right, I’m bored now and can’t be arsed thinking of any more today so I’ll continue this party political broadcast at a later date (maybe). As it stands I’m pretty sure my maifesto pisses all over Cameron’s anyway.

It's 2010. Where are the flying cars?!

Happy New Year!

I haven’t blogged for some time because I’ve been having a blast in Oz. So, sorry about that, but don’t hate me because you ain’t me. Jealousy’s an ugly thing.

Anyway, what a year it’s been. Obama got elected, the recession officially ended, I bought a new coat and Jedward entered the collective consciousness like long lost twin brothers we wish our mother had aborted. 

In a few short hours we’ll all be having the time of our lives, counting down to the New Year and snogging some gorgeous stranger. Either that or we’ll be necking tequila in a desperate attempt to find someone remotely attractive enough to snog at midnight because we’re nearly 30 and single and if we have to make to do with a peck on the cheek from our best mate we might cut ourselves in a depressive post-party plea for help.

By ‘we’, I mean you, obviously.  

But don’t despair. If you’re too ugly/boring/smelly/short (delete as applicable) to get a snog this New Year, simply follow my fail-safe resolutions to make sure you’re a better person this time next year.

100% money-back guarantee. Send me your card details and I’ll do the rest.

Don’ts:

  • Stop using LOL, ROFL, LMAO, PMSL and so on. Just stop it. It’s not big and it’s not clever and unless used in a witty and ironic manner such as this, you sound like a twat.
  • Don’t be a racist. Racists are rubbish. “England used to be great.. yada, yada, blah blah”. You’re born where you’re born by pure chance, it doesn’t make you any better than anyone else. Get over it.
  • Stop watching football in pubs. It means there are certain days of the year where non-football fans, or ‘intelligent people’ as I like to call them, are unable to enter a public house for a refreshing beverage or two without the experience being completely ruined by some sweaty apes shouting and clapping at a box in the corner of the room showing flickering images. Idiots.
  • Stop updating your Facebook statuses with your views on football*. For example: “Bob thought so and so was fucking terrible, what was the ref thinking, they should never have bought him off Wolverhapmton.” Or something. You’re not a footballer, manager or ref, and you’re never going to be, so stop whingeing, no one wants to hear it. 
  • Do not wear trackie bottoms tucked into UGG boots beyond a 100 yard radius of your home. Yes, students, that means you. And you’re fooling no one with that ‘just got out of bed’  hair. We all know you spent an hour backcombing and hair-spraying it this morning. But hey, at least you all look exactly the same!

 *unless it’s to say how dull people’s obsession with it is. That’s fine.

 Do’s

  • Drink and do drugs more. The NHS won’t be able to take the strain of all us old people in 50 years time and there won’t be enough state pension to go round, so you may as well ruin yourself now and die young. It’s the only sensible conclusion.
  • Watch more reality TV. It’s good for the soul as it allows you to judge other people from the comfort of your own sofa. And you can eat crisps at the same time.
  • Blog more. Everyone wants to hear your views because you are a witty and entertaining person. By ‘you’, I mean me, obviously.

If you stick to these resolutions all year I guarantee you will be a better looking, more likeable and more sexually attractive person this time next year. 

No need to thank me, I know how grateful you must be.

See you in 2010 folks.


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