Author Archives: JoeBishop

The Things I Hate About The Underground

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As someone who uses the London Underground every day of their life, I’ve noticed a fair few things about it that annoy me. When I say annoy me, I mean they make me want to floss my brain with razor wire.

To those who perhaps don’t know the many horrors that inhabit the daily commute to Wherever Land, I’ve compiled a list of what’s worst about it. Because I’m nice like that.

Book your dental appointment now, because your teeth are about to grind into a fine powder.

The Elderly

If there’s one thing I’m dreading about my later years, it’s becoming a shuffling shambles; a human inconvenience, sifting through the streets at snails pace like a flappy skinned ghost, haunting everyone with the reality of my tired existence. This becomes even more problematic when you’re surrounded by 300 people rushing around, trying to get to Starbucks before the supply of Chai Ti Latte’s deplete. You can’t knock into them, they’ll fall over / apart. You feel obligated to give your hard earned seat up to them – even though they’re capable enough to walk down 3 flights of stairs, 2 escalators and make a last gasp dash for the train on the platform. Poor old things.

Pushchair operators

This is even worse in rush hour. There’s a horde of people trying to get on the train to go to work, yet they can’t get on because Mrs. Chelsea and little Tarquin Farthing are occupying 5 square feet with their 4×4 prams. And then it cries, and everyone’s journey becomes that much more unbearable.

School trips

Imagine: it’s a swelteringly hot day. The air conditioning in the train is on the fritz. Everyone has rivulets of sweat dripping down their faces like a salty waterfall. Things can’t really get more uncomfortable, can they? WRONG. Before you can wipe the condensation from your moist brow, 40 yelping 7-year-olds clamber on the train, chocolate stains like birth marks on their goblin-like maws. The exhausted teachers try and segregate them to the few remaining seats, but naturally there isn’t enough. Most of them stand there awkwardly, staring at you, intrigued by your monolithic height. I try and avoid eye contact, lest they ask me anything about… I don’t know, ‘Tom & Jerry’ or whatever the kids are into these days.

European Backpackers

“Du hast bin mich zehr LONDON EYE bin heisse?”

“O ja ja, sehr getes SCHLECT mit braun dim HYDEH PARKEH mit dem SCHLEISSE HASSE”

“OH JAH, ICH EINE FLASSEBASSE DIM SCHAUSSE LICH GREAT BRITAIN HAHAHAHAH”

“HAHAHAHA DU HAST MICHH!!”

“PLEASE… PLEASE STOP, I… I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE.”

Unwashed commuters

If you’re going to get on a tiny tube train, packed to the edges with disgruntled, often manically depressed people, please have the courtesy to have a shower. Maybe use some shower gel. You never know, you might even enjoy it!

People

People are inherently awful on public transport. They’re selfish, rude, sweaty, uncouth, preening morons who have no awareness of anyone around them. I think people should be banned from the tube, and the trains should be used to transport newborn puppies to a utopian Eden Project-style garden so they can live out their dog lives in extreme comfort and tranquillity. We can all cycle, or something.

Joe Bishop

Gordon Brown: Pure Evil?

So, it looks as if Gordon Brown has really slammed the last nail into the coffin of his Labour Prime Ministerial election campaign. He’s climbed to the top of a bell tower in his best urban camouflage, fixed his sniper rifle together and shot his campaign in the face. And himself, in the foot.

But what is it that Gordon did to deserve his current status as tabloid pariah? Did he compliment Nick Griffin on his new haircut? Did he say Bin Laden is ‘Okay once you get to know him’? Instead of kissing babies, did he flat out call them ugly gremlins, right in their mothers’ shocked gobs?

No, Gordon did none of those things. Rather, he made an accurate analysis of an encounter he’d had with an elderly woman from Rochdale, saying it was a disaster, asking why he’d been put to speak to her and, most shockingly of all, calling her a ‘bigot’.

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Now before I begin to spit-shine Brown’s shoes with my Brown nose, I’d like to quickly remind you what a bigot is, not to insult your intelligence, just to be sure. A bigot is someone who is so staunchly prejudiced in their opinion and belief that they will not listen to any other information being presented to them. So when Gordon Brown called this lady, Gillian Duffy, 65, a bigot, he could have been speaking about the multitude of issues that she presented, that Brown countered.

The crux of all this though is, of course, Gillian’s mention of the Immigration System. If you listen carefully, I’m assuming that she’s about to say; “You can’t talk about immigration without (being branded a racist.)” However as soon as the word ‘Immigration’ slips delicately off of her tongue, she darts around, looking at all the cameras and microphones surrounding her, and she stays quiet.

After that she asks the immortal question: “All these Eastern Europeans coming in, I mean, where are they all flocking from?“ Hmm, tricky one there, I’m going to hazard a guess and say Peru, though. Recent statistics show that while 500,000 immigrants were accepted last year, 300,000 Brits left for pastures new in mainland Europe.

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I don’t think Gillian’s a bad person, I don’t think Gordon Brown’s a bad person. I think subsequent witch hunts on both sides are doing the world no favours and in reality it all boils down to the real common enemy: the media.

I sat there watching ITV news tonight, and there were three, three, separate reports on this story. One of the event, one of the commentators giving their obtuse and irrelevant input, and one of Gillian’s shocked face as she’s told the man she spent grilling for 5 minutes like a sandwich toaster has called her… Not even a nasty name, just a name.

The newspaper headlines are comprised of dull puns and knee jerk reactions, and it all gets swept up in a massive maelstrom of idiotic over hyped nonsense. Dull and self involved opinion pieces scattered across all the papers and, certainly, the internet.

I realise the sheer irony in that statement, but really, it’s true. My input doesn’t matter in the great scheme of things. No one’s does, not if you’re not important. I’m not even voting Labour and I feel compelled to write something about the sheer absurdity in which this minor fault has been treated.

On Twitter, shortly after this event, one of the top ‘trending topics’ was “GordAn Brown”.

What can you do, eh?

Joe Bishop.

Relationships From An XY Perspective

I think it’s safe to say that I don’t represent the average demographic of city-dwelling men.

I don’t go out a great amount; I’m certainly one for creature comforts. I’m not promiscuous, and you won’t find me face down in a gutter in the early hours of Sunday morning after an all night binge of booze and amorality.

I have a small circle of friends who I enjoy the company of, but other than that, my social standing isn’t massive. It started making me think about the two sexes and their relationships.

Not those sort of relationships, God no, I’m not touching that one with a 20 foot cow prodder, but friendly relationships; who you see, who you go to the pub with, see a film or a concert.

As I’ve mentioned before, my circle is limited to say the least, but I have a niggling feeling that this is because, as a male, I don’t find my friendships as interchangeable as I would had I been born with oestrogen running through my veins.

Now I acknowledge that this is a pretty bold statement to make; who am I to say that female relationships are of less intrinsic value than males? But from what I’ve seen, it seems to be the case. I also attribute this to women being a damn sight friendlier than men are, depending on the individual, naturally.

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I remember being in school, if there was a new girl, she would be welcomed into the undeveloped bosom of her peers, almost without question, the new boy, however, would be categorically ignored. The openness and willing to interact makes it seem like females have greater bonds when it comes to friendship, but this instantaneous acceptance requires no vetting for friends, so they could become ‘bitches’ within the week. No real bond has been formed, because the initial pleasantness overshadows it.

With males, it’s either I like you or I don’t; if I don’t then I won’t speak to you, if I do then welcome to the club. This kind of severe, yet effective choice making makes for stronger better lasting bonds.

But I find myself continuously drawn to females for friendship. As I’ve stated too many times now, I’m not the archetypal man’s man. I like the arts, I have… feelings, and junk, which makes interaction and conversations a lot easier with the fairer sex.

Perhaps friendships between the sexes are the strongest. Sometimes they get a bit too strong and it all goes a bit wrong, I know I’ve been there.

As people grow and mature, their threshold for garbage becomes less and less, which invariably means friendships are stronger anyway, but with those few left behind in the whirlwind of adolescence, she’ll be your ‘BFF’ today, and a complete bitch-hoe by the weekend.

But like I say, what do I know?

Joe Bishop