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-- English Satirical Humour Part Three: Men in Shorts
English Satirical Humour Part Three: Men in Shorts
Only one question: WHY? Imagine, a day like today, in Britain. It's a bit cold, alternating from chucking-it-down wet to mildy damp, little kids racing each other with their stabiliser-enhanced bicycles and my short little Italian neighbour still trying to make as much noise with his "vintage" MG engine as possible.
Now here I am sitting by the window watching an old James Bond film (being a bit of a fan, and run out of doing everything else - besides, being ill calls for a 007 movie) in the middle of the afternoon. In my house. Which, in case you've never been, is right at the end of a really long cul-de-sac ("dead end road" for you Americans).
Who should come running round the corner to the end of the turn-around, run the entire perimeter of it, get in the way of Pedro who's tinkering under the bonnet of the MG in the street, get in the way of the little kids trying to race each other, and basically make the street come to a halt until he's finished?
That's right. They may call themselves "enthusiasts" and "devotees," "fitness freaks," "healthy exercisers" etc, but they are a public nuisance. I am - of course - talking about the legendary "running man." Not as in THE Running Man, just the ones who dress up like oversized bananas in flourescent yellow lycra cycling shorts, whack in their plug-in brains (that would be "walkman" if you're not with my in-jokes) and disregard everything the British public stand for.
So they all want to be featured in the next Flora TV ad. Well I don't want to see these hairy-legged little men outside my window, let alone on the TV. Imagine if I had seen a Flora advert in the James Bond film, looked out the window, and saw another one. It would be too much.
What is it with these fitness people? I'm not sure, but I know they have limitless energy and absolutely no boundaries at all. I was out walking with my family the other week, on top of a hill absolutely (I tell no lie) in the middle of nowhere, and what's that banana lookalike on the horizon? Not a second sun? No, a bloody bastard running man.
I was scooting through town on Sunday on my way home from work. Stopped at some traffic lights (as you do) right up behind the pick-up truck I was following. Across runs a little running man.
Then, and fortunately this has only ever happened once, I get out the car and cross the road (at 2 in the morning) to enter the club I'm supposed to be playing at and just as I get to the door and open my mouth to say something to the bouncers, a bloody running man runs me over.
I can take no more. I have to share my irritation with the world. If you happen to see a big stick lying next to you where a running man is in the vicinity, trip him up with it. These people have to be stopped. I could continue my rant with inclusions of people who go to gyms. Judge Jules is one of them, and if that doesn't discourage you, nothing will. However, as much as I don't like these fitness people, it's my choice not to go to a gym and therefore I have the distinct pleasure of not socialising with these boney, smelly people.
I don't want men in shorts running left, right and centre. I don't want them anywhere. Out of sight, out of mind.
I could stop there, but I have a feeling these people are actually new agents employed by the police to enforce Neighbourhood Watch. They run around viillages, through woods, over hills, through towns and in circles around me. Pedro, my Italian neighbour on the right, Francois, my French neighbour on the left, and myself think it's time to banish these spies from collecting info on who's doing what, where and why.
However, if they're not police agents, they work for the council, checking on the safety of pavements. If not, they should do, since they've covered every bloody inch of them at some point.
There are other types of men in shorts: builders, people out and about in hot weather, people at the seaside, people in PE lessons at school, people playing sports, and bus drivers (although they have no excuse, and by a first glance at their stomachs, they don't do any running). These people are unprovisionally cleared of all short-wearing at any or all times.
So, in case you just scrolled to the bottom without actually reading any of this, a summary and brief guide (geddit?? hahaha) to short-wearing without incurring my wrath:
1; Wear shorts when the temperature is above 25 C. If not, you'll look a bit odd.
2; Wear shorts when activities may involve getting your legs messy (playing football, crawling all over a beach etc).
3; Do not wear shorts when running. Do not ever wear a skin-hugging pair of shorts. Especially luminous or flourescent coloured shorts. Better still, don't run.
u didnt write these, did u ?
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