Punctuation.

Yesterday, I was on my way to get my children for the weekend, and on the way I was stopped by a BBC news reporter and a cameraman and asked my opinion on the day's burning issue: Apostrophes. Apparently, Birmingham City Council doesn't like Brummie place names having apostrophes in them, so places like Druid's Heath, King's Norton and King's Heath (where I live, and why I was asked my opinion, being a resident and all) will all lose their punctuation. Good to see they're not wasting my council tax on stupid schemes like better services, isn't it? Let's re-punctuate all the street signs instead. A much better use of resources.
However, directly across the road from where I was interviewed, an attempted armed robbery had taken place at a Nationwide building society, there were loads of police and the road was cordoned off. Surely that's a proper news story? Shouldn't the TV journalists be over there finding out what happened? Nope. Whether or not we keep apostrophes is far more important, apparently.
They did broadcast my response. On the BBC's regional news programme Midlands Today. My eldest daughter was doubly freaked out because her English teacher was also in the same feature. I was freaked out, too, by my big bloated unshaved pale face and my horrible voice. Surely I don't sound like that, do I?
I do?! Bloody hell.
Anyway, I don't approve of them removing the apostrophes. My response on the telly was something like 'removing the apostrophes just for the sake of making it easier to read is sorta like dumbing down'. I know, erudite, snappy and witty. I came across as a right bell-end.
Luckily, nobody 'phoned or texted me, so it looked like nobody I knew had seen it. Which was good, especially since I've been off work all week with a bad shoulder, 'phoning them up and telling them how crippled I am. Me appearing larger than life on the telly kinda makes me look a liar. And I'm not, my shoulder is royally fucked, I had to go and get my kids. But it looked like nobody had seen it anyway, so I was okay.
I thought I was, anyway. They broadcast it again, many times, today on BBC breakfast. and I'm getting texts and Facebook messages from all over the shop. My mate in Darlington saw it. So it was nationwide, then. The whole country saw what a bell-end I am. Fantastic. My colleagues have seen it. So I'm in shit at work, probably. Brilliant.
Damn you, Birmingham City Council! You and your diabolical schemes have ruined me!

Old Faces.

I was nagged by an old friend of mine (old in the sense that I've known him for twenty-two years, not old in the sense that he has no hair or pisses himself. Actually, he does do that, but not because he's old!) to join Facebook. In a country where we (quite rightly) generally don't want the government (or anybody else for that matter) to keep records of all our personal details or have I.D. cards, a lot of us are quite happy to put a lot of our details on one of the world's most popular websites for anyone to have a look at!
Anyway, I've got a profile on there, and I've been mooching about looking up old schoolmates and stuff. The strange thing about seeing your old classmates is seeing how much they've aged in the years since I last walked out of the gates of Handsworth Grammar school for boys. The ones I've kept in touch with don't seem to have aged that much, but that's probably because I see them fairly regularly. The ones I haven't seen all tend to be balding, or grey, or fat. Sometimes, I look at myself in the mirror and think I look old, that it's my dad looking back at me, only he's wearing glasses, but I don't feel that old anymore because I've seen what the ravages of time have done to the lads I went to school with!

Actually, thinking about it, these people probably think the same about me if they were to see my profile!

Anyway, I'm just getting used to the whole etiquette of Facebook. For example, I've been informed that if someone writes on your wall, replying to them on your own wall and not on theirs is a social faux pas tantamount to fisting someone to death at your pool party. And I've not really took part in all the giving of 'gifts' or nominating people for certain awards that my friends take part in. I will do, but I've been busy with other stuff (like drawing dirty pictures for that comic book I'm doing at the moment) so, if you're reading this and you've got the hump because I've not got round to nominating you as 'the person most likely to party like a rock star', sorry. I will do, one day. I'm just worried that fucking about on facebook will prove as addictive as heroin or wanking and it will take over all of my spare time, and I can't have that as I've got deadlines to meet and bills to pay.
It's bad enough trying to do that with the aforementioned addictions to wanking and heroin.