The Lazy Ramblings Of A Lazy Man (On Babies)

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I was recently introduced to the Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow by Jerome K Jerome. The book consists of 14 essays on 14 topics

  1. ON BEING IDLE.
  2. ON BEING IN LOVE.
  3. ON BEING IN THE BLUES.
  4. ON BEING HARD UP.
  5. ON VANITY AND VANITIES.
  6. ON GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.
  7. ON THE WEATHER.
  8. ON CATS AND DOGS.
  9. ON BEING SHY.
  10. ON BABIES.
  11. ON EATING AND DRINKING.
  12. ON FURNISHED APARTMENTS.
  13. ON DRESS AND DEPORTMENT.
  14. ON MEMORY.

Jerome K Jerome is pretty much me down to a tee. He’s lazy and just writes whatever comes to mind. He doesn’t care who he offends, and I often felt that he may have been somewhat high when he picked up the pen. But Mr Jerome has inspired me, so I am going to be writing a series of posts on the topics that Mr Jerome turned his hand at. (I know I’m ripping the guy off, but quite frankly I don’t care).

On Babies

I have a child, she’s a baby, she’s cute as hell, but I tell you now, she has definitely put me off having more children, she’s loud and smelly, and given the amount that I find in her nappy, she seems to defy the laws of mass displacement.

Babies are hard work, they require constant attention, they require food, and clothing, before having a child if I wanted to wallow in my own filth without having a proper meal for a week, it wouldn’t matter (except maybe to those who had to smell me) but I can’t do that now, I have to make sure that a whole other person is fed and bathed and presented in a manner that doesn’t bring shame on my whole family.

Then there are other peoples babies, god I hate those little bastards, they’re loud, they smell, and you can’t give them a clip round the head, in fact come to think of it other peoples children are a really good argument for the extinction of the species as a whole. And then there’s the way that you have to coo over newborns whilst saying how much like one of their parents the thing looks like, when in fact they look like a slightly red faced pug, all squashed up from nine months with their face buried in a placenta. And lord help you if you can’t tell the gender, if you refer to a newborn as it, you will undoubtedly feel the wrath of both parents descend upon you like the locusts descended upon the upper kingdom. On top of all this people seem fascinated by new babies, in spite of the fact that they don’t really do anything.

The other thing I’ve noticed since having a child, is that there really are a large number of really ugly babies out there, a huge amount. I’m no oil painting (maybe the kind painted by Edvard Munch or Hieronymus Bosch), but seriously.

This is the tenth in a series of posts ripping off the work of Mr Jerome K Jerome and his seminal piece The Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Man.

The Lazy Ramblings Of A Lazy Man (On Being Shy)

The Man Down My Local (10).pngI was recently introduced to the Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow by Jerome K Jerome. The book consists of 14 essays on 14 topics

  1. ON BEING IDLE.
  2. ON BEING IN LOVE.
  3. ON BEING IN THE BLUES.
  4. ON BEING HARD UP.
  5. ON VANITY AND VANITIES.
  6. ON GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.
  7. ON THE WEATHER.
  8. ON CATS AND DOGS.
  9. ON BEING SHY.
  10. ON BABIES.
  11. ON EATING AND DRINKING.
  12. ON FURNISHED APARTMENTS.
  13. ON DRESS AND DEPORTMENT.
  14. ON MEMORY.

Jerome K Jerome is pretty much me down to a tee. He’s lazy and just writes whatever comes to mind. He doesn’t care who he offends, and I often felt that he may have been somewhat high when he picked up the pen. But Mr Jerome has inspired me, so I am going to be writing a series of posts on the topics that Mr Jerome turned his hand at. (I know I’m ripping the guy off, but quite frankly I don’t care).

On Being Shy

You wouldn’t think it to look at me now, but I haven’t always been the confident, handsome, outgoing person that I am now. I used to be a fat, spotty teenager with the confidence of a flaccid willy. I couldn’t even look a girl in the eye, let alone talk to one above some pathetic mumble.

Confidence is something I’ve had to work on throughout my life, to the point where I can now address a well lit room full of hundreds of people without even breaking a sweat. I’m told I even manage make it look easy. However small talk and meeting new people is something I really suck at, I mean, I never know what to say in these awkward social situations, its something that really has been apparent over the last few months, due to the increase in civic duties, it means a lot of talking to old people whilst trying not to be offensive.

usually at those sort of events I just stick to neutral topics live the weather or whatever it is the event is in aide of, “x does such great work”, “we really need to do more for y”, that sort of thing. It does get a little tedious, but it is definitely better than talking about anything controversial, especially with old people.

This is the ninth in series of posts ripping off the work of Mr Jerome K Jerome and his seminal piece The Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Man.

The Lazy Ramblings Of A Lazy Man (On Cats & Dogs)

The Man Down My Local (9).pngI was recently introduced to the Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow by Jerome K Jerome. The book consists of 14 essays on 14 topics

  1. ON BEING IDLE.
  2. ON BEING IN LOVE.
  3. ON BEING IN THE BLUES.
  4. ON BEING HARD UP.
  5. ON VANITY AND VANITIES.
  6. ON GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.
  7. ON THE WEATHER.
  8. ON CATS AND DOGS.
  9. ON BEING SHY.
  10. ON BABIES.
  11. ON EATING AND DRINKING.
  12. ON FURNISHED APARTMENTS.
  13. ON DRESS AND DEPORTMENT.
  14. ON MEMORY.

Jerome K Jerome is pretty much me down to a tee. He’s lazy and just writes whatever comes to mind. He doesn’t care who he offends, and I often felt that he may have been somewhat high when he picked up the pen. But Mr Jerome has inspired me, so I am going to be writing a series of posts on the topics that Mr Jerome turned his hand at. (I know I’m ripping the guy off, but quite frankly I don’t care)

On Cats And Dogs

Right off the bat I’m going to say that I really am not an animal person, I don’t like dogs and I don’t like cats, I’m not really a fan of pretty much any form of indoor, domesticated animal. I’m actually allergic to dogs as it goes, so at least in this instance I feel justified in my dislike.

Dogs smell, they slobber, they shed hair all over the place, they’re easily excited, they require exercise. people say that they give you unconditional love, but surely this feels like settling, I mean I would quite happily die alone if it meant not having to pick up someones excrement, its bad enough having to wipe my own child’s backside, but I know she at least will grow out of it, and the changing the nappies bit is really more of quid pro quo situation if I make it to old age. I don’t know what it is about dogs that I dislike so much, yes the aforementioned does little to warm them to my sensibilities, nor does my throat closing when I’m near then, but there is something more, and I just cant quiet put my finger on it.

Cats on the other hand, well, the thing about cats that you have to remember is that, they used to be worshiped as gods, and they’ve never forgotten this. They have that sense of self entitlement that comes from having been worshiped. On the face of it cats have the perfect life, and this is probably why I dislike them so much. They get exactly what they want, food, warmth, shelter, entertainment, and can get it, with no show of gratitude, just some sort of nonchalance that would make even the most downright cad, say ‘steady on a bit old chap’. The shedding, the hairballs, the scratching and the trying to trip you up at the top of the stairs doesn’t help either.

 

This is the eighth in series of posts ripping off the work of Mr Jerome K Jerome and his seminal piece The Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Man.

Santa Express

A Christmas time tradition for my family, when I and my siblings were younger was going on a steam train to see Father Christmas. So today my parents were all too happy to revive that tradition so that Marianna could go and see Santa on the train.

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Meeting Santa On The Train At Lydney (Early 1990’s)

So this morning my parents, my sister, Marianna, her mother, myself and some family friends made the drive from my home in Cwmbran all the way to the Dean Forest Railway in Lydney (Gloucester) for Mariana to experience the wonders of meeting Father Christmas, coupled with the joy that a lot of little children experience in riding on an old school steam train.

From my point of view the whole thing was wonderfully nostalgic, as we used to go every year its also nice to see that not much has changed in the intervening years, as the little rail museum and gift shop remains unchanged. However there was a new cafe and the toilets had been refurbished. From Marianna’s point of view however it was a cafe and some trains.

However Marianna had been looking forward to going all week and was excited to see the “noisy train” and was enjoying the comfort of her own seat and the rhythmic click clack of the train slowly puffing along. Then Santa Clause appeared shouting HO!HO!HO! And I’ve never seen anything so funny in all my life, my daughter screamed with fear (she’s never been that loud in her life), she began crying and tried to burrow into her seat and hide behind me simultaneously, bearing in mind I was sat down too. I know its cruel to think so, but it really was funny. Santa gave me a look that said shes not the first and wont be the last, handed me a present and carried on down the train being trailed by a couple of elves.

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My Parents, My Sister, Marianna, Rabbit and Myself on alighting the train at Parkend Station

After that Marianna was fine for most of the journey, except when Santa came back up the train at which point she hid under my coat, the grown ups were then given their presents (a miniature bottle of booze, rum in my case, and a mince pie) and that was the Santa Express. We had a look around the gift shop and then came home, although we did stop for dinner in the Two Rivers, In Chepstow, on the way home. Given the amount I had to eat whilst there I may slip into some sort of food induced coma soon, I ate half a chicken, a boat load of vegetables, some sweet potato chips, followed by a chocolate brownie sundae, washed down with two pints. So suffice to say today I will be having a very early night, probably not very long after I hit “publish” if I’m being completely honest.

The Lazy Ramblings Of A Lazy Man (On The Weather)

The Man Down My Local (8).png

I was recently introduced to the Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Fellow by Jerome K Jerome. The book consists of 14 essays on 14 topics

  1. ON BEING IDLE.
  2. ON BEING IN LOVE.
  3. ON BEING IN THE BLUES.
  4. ON BEING HARD UP.
  5. ON VANITY AND VANITIES.
  6. ON GETTING ON IN THE WORLD.
  7. ON THE WEATHER.
  8. ON CATS AND DOGS.
  9. ON BEING SHY.
  10. ON BABIES.
  11. ON EATING AND DRINKING.
  12. ON FURNISHED APARTMENTS.
  13. ON DRESS AND DEPORTMENT.
  14. ON MEMORY.

Jerome K Jerome is pretty much me down to a tee. He’s lazy and just writes whatever comes to mind. He doesn’t care who he offends, and I often felt that he may have been somewhat high when he picked up the pen. But Mr Jerome has inspired me, so I am going to be writing a series of posts on the topics that Mr Jerome turned his hand at. (I know I’m ripping the guy off, but quite frankly I don’t care)

On The Weather

Its rather cold outside today, I suppose it is that time of year for it. I dislike the cold, however being ginger it isn’t as if I’m geared towards the heat or towards sunshine either for that matter, but the thing about the cold is that it just works its way into the bones, it aggravates my gout, it incubates germs that lead to the dreaded cold, which if left unchecked can become a full blown case of terminal man flu.

There are some upsides to the cold. You’re more likely to get a seat on the bus as old people don’t feel like braving it. Places tend to look cleaner when covered in frost or snow, if only due to the way it covers the detritus that humanity leaves in its wake. But for an island nation Britain seems to stop working if it snows, people are afraid to leave their homes and so horde what supplies such as bread, milk and most importantly toilet paper. You would think that there would be some sort of snow etiquette, because after all it does snow in Britain most years. But no, people don’t just want to camp in their homes with as much bread and lav roll as possible.

Sunshine is even worse though, especially when it lasts weeks at a time, at least with cold you can take to your bed and escape it, but the heat is inescapable, the months of June, July and August, seem to me be like something Dante would have described in the Divine Comedy, hot as hell and nowhere near as pleasant, because at least Dante never made mention of mosquito’s or the noise that fans make as they drone on and only just managing to move the hot air about, rather than actually cool it.

And then there is rain, it helps the plants grow and keeps the streets clean, but other than that the only upside is that occasionally you’ll see someone get splashed when a passing car goes through a massive puddle, and that just says more about me than it does about the weather. For an island where it does rain for eight months of the year, you would think that people would get used to it, but the merest droplet of water from the sky suddenly induces selective amnesia in a great number of people, when it comes to the fundamentals of driving in the minds of motorists everywhere, they don’t seem to realise that they should perhaps go a little bit slower on the wet roads, or also that they should indicate, or that it whilst it may be 2 in the afternoon headlights should still be on when visibility is poor.

It seems though that no matter the season there is something to complain about, whether it be the cold and wet, or sticking to ones sofa on a hot day, whatever the weather there is going to be something to complain about, but I do believe that that is the nations past time, complaining about the weather, well that and queuing.

 

This is the seventh in series of posts ripping off the work of Mr Jerome K Jerome and his seminal piece The Idle Thoughts Of An Idle Man.

Am I A Shit Parent?

Its a little after two in the morning, and I’m wide awake, partly because of the nap I had on the sofa earlier, but mostly because of the existential dread that tends to hit you in the wee hours of the morning.

The topic keeping me awake tonight is whether or not I’m a good parent. I think it has to do with Christmas being less than a week away. My parents spoilt my siblings and I rotten at Christmas timee, my mother would spend thousands on presents and food and parties, going above and beyond to make Christmas special. So that being said the fact that the entirety of Marianna’s Christmas gifts amount to two presents worth less than £50, this coupled with the ingrained feeling that if there aren’t mountains of presents you are a terrible person. this having been portrayed through years of advertising and Christmas films (aka subtle advertising) have left me feeling like a shitty parent.

Intellectually I know that a near two year old won’t care, or even remember, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, and I know I shouldn’t, but over the coming week, I probably am going to spend a fortune that I don’t have on useless crap that she doesn’t need, want or care about, just to assuage the consumer driven guilt that is keeping me up at 2 in the morning.

Ah Christmas eh? It certainly is the most wonderful time of the year.

Update: as of three o’clock this afternoon Marianna has at least half a dozen more things to open Christmas day and I’m only out £15