Journey to Manchester…

I got up early to catch a train, as the replacement car Esure finally got for me (eight days late! Never get Esure insurance) is way too small and poky- so I opted for the train.
I hate sitting beside anyone so I spread my worldly goods all over four seats in the hope it would put people off joining me, but Lo and Behold…a young guy who stank of garlic breath, sat opposite me and breathed that stench constantly into my face for the majority of the journey.
I know that Britain is now anti-smoking due to the health issues but for fucksake garlic should be banned due to the honk it makes and how uncomfortable it becomes breathing it in for hours…it too should be only consumed at home and you should not be allowed out till the smell goes!
I know that’s a bit extreme but you didn’t have to sit beside someone for four hours smelling it in your nostrils.
The snow is lashing outside; big fluffy drifts of it are beating against the train windows as it speeds towards Manchester. Wee sheep in the fields that flash by my view are cowering as everything becomes white. Soon the sheep will be completely camouflaged and can move against the snow fields only being recognised by their black noses.
I watched big fat cows stumble about in a field where we stopped for a few minutes, they remind me of old portly women gathering in a huddle planning stuff, I think cows get together and plan to take over the world, I am sure they talk in perfect English and when we get near by the head Bull shouts-
“Quick! Humans are here…look daft and chew grass; pretend you are stupid and stare at the sky!”
The minute our cars or trains pass, they whip out a big game plan on a pull down flip chart that hangs from a tree and continue their evil plans to take over the human race and get us all back for that huge genocide we inflicted on them during the foot and mouth crisis.
Maybe my imagination works over time when inhaling garlic over a period of time, maybe garlic fumes are hallucagenic?
Who knows?
My last night at the ‘Confidence for Kids Comedy Workshops’ finished on Wednesday and the great wee kids/teenagers had their big performance last night. I could not be there as I was in Manchester. On the last day the kids brought in their one joke to tell at the performance night, the people (social workers) who organised the workshops came in to supervise the ‘joke content’ and that drove me mad.
Get this- one girl had a typical joke about the run down area she comes from like- a guy puts his hand out of the window of an aeroplane, he felt the heat and said’ I must be in the Sahara, then he felt the cold and said I must be in the Artic- then his watch was ripped off his wrist and he said I must be in Drumchapel’ Now Drumchapel is the area the workshops are in and it really does have major social problems (hence the workshops!) I thought it was a great joke but that was vetoed!
Another girl did the typical ‘ An Irish- a Scottish and an Englishman Joke which was banned as it took the piss out of the Irish-now I can see how that stereotypes people BUT they allowed one girl to tell a joke about ‘Blonde Women being dumb’.
So I turned to the girls in the group and said ‘That’s a lesson for life, every other subject is politically cleansed but being blonde does still make you stupid, what does that tell us from authority?
One wee guy smiled put up his hand and said “The social worker who banned it is actually blonde?”
“Yes!” I said smiling as the poor woman stood there blushing, with her hand over her dyed blonde hair!
The kids did well at the show I heard and I am very very proud of them, they are great wee kids and deserve to take the piss out of whatever gets them through the situations they are all in.
I will miss them as the workshops are done but we will meet again and I am sure they will tell filthy politically incorrect jokes till they die….and that’s good!