Introduction
I shall start this Entry with an apology, and then move on
to a raft of excuses and reasons which will hopefully absolve me of any
negative feedback.
My humblest and deepest apologies for not having posted for
a little while. I am sure without the rejuvenating rain of my words the parched
farmland of your life as cracked and dried. The succulent corn of your joy is
no doubt sagging limply on its stalk…. But FEAR NOT! Like a rain dance your
silent plea’s for The Gentleman’s candour has brought me back to soak you with
a monsoon of eloquence.
With regards to the excuses, well… here we go. Believe it or
not I have actually been working on a couple of items for the blog. Firstly I
am wrist deep in a section about a board game I am creating. I realize this
section won’t be for everyone, the proverbial marmite on the toast platter of
my blog… but I believe for the people who ARE interested it will prove very
entertaining. It’s also a great way for me to safely vent some of my
overflowing geekery in a controlled manner…. We all know that when left
unchecked the need to be geeky can rapidly get out of hand… even descending
into… LARPing.
Excuse my French.
I am also working on a piece about the recent Beer Festival
in Plymouth. I selflessly force myself to go there and quaff large quantities
of alcohol, purely so I could write a review for this blog. Even more horrific
was the mumbled and tuneless singing of Mr Geldof… but you will have to wait
for this rant as well, a large section of what I plan to write about requires
me to distil some information from a Dictaphone that was taken to the event…
and as you can probably appreciate…the bits I need are obscured somewhat by the
drunken, slurred tomfoolery.
My next and main excuse is that I have recently got a new
job and had a lot of other things going on in my life. These have served to get
in the way of me writing blog entries. Of course I could probably have written
something instead of playing all those video games… but a life without an
adequate amount of escapism is a life full of misery and drudgery.
Now I have got all that out the way… TO THE MEAT OF THE
BLOG!
The Gentleman’s Handbook
As with every week I have a pearl of wisdom for all you
aspiring gentlemen out there. Rule 3 follows and its words should be read and
digested by any self-respecting male hoping to successfully woo a lady.
Rule 3: You
should never ask a lady her age. With the growth of social media it’s easy
enough to find this out without asking her directly, and let’s be honest, as
long as her age is relatively close to yours it doesn’t really matter.
Motivation: If you ask a lady her age there are a number of
possible outcomes, none of which are good.
1)
The Lady could lie to you. Whilst this is
probably the best possible outcome there are a number of situations in which
this is definitely not good. For example if the lady is much younger than she
claims.
2)
The Lady could tell you the truth. This may seem
like a good thing, but ladies are NEVER happy about their age and admitting to
it is most likely to upset them. Remember, you should never make a lady sad.
3)
The Lady could refuse to tell you. This is much
like number 2, but it may also result in the lady getting angry which is
arguably even worse than if she was sad.
This all comes down to making sure the lady is happy, and
remember! A happy lady is a horny lady!
Tales from the Life of a Gentleman
Last week I talked about my new abode and the unpleasant fellow
who happened to live there with me and Wool Girl. Needless to say, my
description of him was accurate, but not necessarily…friendly. As part of this
section I ran a small vote on what should be used as his nickname.
As you can imagine thousands of votes were cast, and my
Platoon of PA’s have spent the past week counting them and re-counting. At one
point we constructed a giant vote counting robot, which inevitably went insane
and could only be stopped by my patented FIST OF GENTLEMANLY FURY. After all
this we finally got the result… and it was…..
……………….
…….
….
*Drum Roll*
…….
………..
………………..
TWINX.
Ok so that build up was probably excessive but, there we go…
I’ve done it now and the delete key is for quitters.
So Twinx has been named and continues to be unpleasant.
Recently he hasn’t been actually saying anything specific, to the extent that I
believe he may have continued to devolve to the point where he has actually
lost the power of human communication. These days all he does is hide whilst I’m
around, and come up and huff and puff like a storybook wolf when Wool Girl
ventures to the kitchen by herself.
Another moment of frustration occurred a few days ago when
we had to pass through his dark domain on the way to the Pub. The whole floor
of the building was filled with music from “Da Streetz” (My apologies if this
is not the correct term… I must admit my knowledge of the sort of vernacular
used to describe… terrible… music is somewhat limited). This music, associated
with over-populated and under-funded sections of society seemed slightly alien amongst
the middle class setting of the house in which I live… but still it was there
and it was loud. Whilst this was unpleasant it wasn’t this that drew the most
offence from me and Wool Girl. The focus of our ire was that it was coming from
the living room (which is communal) and Twinx had felt it appropriate to place
a tie on the door handle. Now as I’m sure, in addition to being the third most
formal kind of neckwear, ties also serve to convey a very specific meaning when
attached to door handles…. They mean that the room is currently occupied by one
or more people engaged in some kind of erotic activity.
This series of events caused me frustration for a number of
reasons:
1)
The Grotto (edit: sorry Ghetto) music was
terrible… just… awful.
2)
That is a communal living area and should not be
commandeered by someone like that. The only exception to that being if there
was a specific event occurring which we had been made aware of and had agreed to….
this was no such event.
3)
Twinx is,
to be blunt, incredibly unattractive. The sexual activity denoted by the
door-tie couldn’t be indicating lovemaking with a nice, consenting woman…which
means he is either
a.
Lying via the medium of neckware
b.
Having sex with someone who accepts cash. Whilst
I am not adverse to prostitutes in the global sense… if he was really that hard
done by he has a perfectly serviceable bedroom he could take the street walker into.
c.
Having sex with himself. Again he has a
perfectly serviceable bedroom for that… and any mess made as a result of self-pleasuring
is not something I want on any part of a communal living space….. urgh.
As I’m sure you can imagine this whole situation was very unpleasant…
and I was wondering what you, my faithful readers, suggest I should do about
this blaggard…Should I confront him directly about it? contact the landlord? Ignore
him like the ignoble scum he is? or something else…
Answers on a postcard!
Farewell, for now…
That brings us to the end of today’s entry. Like I said I am
working on a number of things to upload to this blog so expect the next few
entries to be larger or at least more frequent, and remember…
Only a ginger can call another ginger ginger.
Good Day to you, The Gentleman.
