‘Elp me I’ve been Bra-anded
So there I was buying myself my own little post-Christmas present (the replacement toothbrush heads I gratefully received from my mother not quite filling the gargantuan consumerist void created by the festivities) thinking that this marvellous piece of modern technology, the MP3 player would revolutionize my walk to the bus…
Little did I know, after spending rather a long time with this device attached to my ear ‘oles listening to podcasts of a certain radio show, would I end up with Russell Brand’s voice as my interior monologue – and what’s wrong with that I hear his raging ego reply.
On and on in unfeasibly long sentences festooned with words like anthropomorphism thrown in willy nilly, whipping my thought processes into a frenzy – a frenzy sir? Yes like a man of the cloth caught napping with his genitals exposed. Oops sorry, forgive me faver for I ‘ave sinned, it has been twenty one years since my last confession. [Russell, I didn’t know you were Catholic? asks a curiously monotone voice of one of his minions scampering around his coat tails]. Oh no I ain’t, but it’s ama-azing what one can learn napping in one of ’em little wooden booves when escaping to sanctuary from the marauding ‘ordes on the outside.
Don’t waste your youth growing up
Why do ‘grown ups’ insist that young people don’t know how to string a sentence together and yet when pushed for proof they simply gesticulate like this was an obvious truth.
“I have seen writing by teenagers.” Was the response I just had to contend with. Really? Where? You are a product designer, working in an office of 25, where, by your own admission, you play computer games for most of the day.
“I’m just saying that in my day…” he falters “I know I pay more attention to accuracy.” he continues.
So you are saying that at the age of 33 with a degree you can write better than the average 15 year old.
Well done.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times 